William King - Illidan

Alexius gave a small grimace of disappointment, then turned and bellowed instructions in Draenei. A small army of servants scurried off to prepare the best rooms in the house. “I would be honored if you would join me in my private rooms,” he said. “I am sure there is much we must speak of.”

Maiev thought she detected a note of urgency in his voice. Perhaps Arechron had already made contact. Messengers flew between Telaar and Shattrath on a regular basis.

“Indeed, I am grateful for your hospitality.”

Alexius’s chambers were luxurious, furnished with rugs and mirrors and racks and racks of wine bottles. He carefully selected one, blew dust off it, and showed it to Maiev, as if it meant something. She had no idea about the differences between draenei vintages, and she cared even less.

“This was a very fine year,” Alexius said. “A century before our world was broken, this bottle was laid down. When you taste this, you will be getting a taste of the old Draenor.”

She forced herself to smile as if she was interested and waited for him to uncork the bottle and pour. He sat there for long moments with the full glass under his lips, sniffing it with his eyes shut and a look of profound satisfaction on his face. “The scent always makes me think of my childhood.”

“You drank wine as a child?”

“Sometimes with meals. But mostly it is just the scent. It makes me think of my father and mother sitting down to break bread with their kin.”

“This was before your world was shattered?”

He nodded and his glowing eyes snapped open. “Yes. I am older than I look,” he said, smiling to show that he knew how old he really looked.

“It must have been a terrible time,” Maiev said. She had found that the more she reminded the draenei and the Broken of their suffering, the more likely they were to aid her against those they blamed for it.

“A world shattered?” His tone told her that he thought her words a gross understatement. “ Terrible hardly begins to describe it. We thought the world was ending. The sky burned. The continents ripped apart. Lava flowed. Wild magic danced from mountain peak to mountain peak. Sometimes the tips of mountains rose into the air and floated away. Sometimes they crashed down and killed thousands.”

“I have seen such things in Nagrand.”

“That is like comparing a pebble to a boulder, I am afraid.”

“You have been to Nagrand?”

He nodded. “Business sometimes takes me to Telaar. And family responsibilities.”

His smile widened and he placed his hands, palms up, on the table. “But you have not come here to listen to the meanderings of an old innkeeper. Arechron’s letters have told me something about your quest. You seek the undoing of this new lord of Outland, this Illidan.”

He kept his voice low, as if even on his own property, he feared being overheard. If he thought it wise, Maiev decided that it was worth doing the same. “Yes.”

“You have a very small army for such a large undertaking.”

“Are you an expert in such things?”

“I was not always a fat old innkeeper. I have fought. But I have never set myself against such a mighty enemy as you have.”

“I have bested him before.”

“Yet he is free now and he has grown mighty. His agents lurk everywhere, in secret. There are always those who will tell tales for gold. I would be careful of to whom I spoke if I were you, and even more careful what I spoke of.”

“I will bear that in mind. I was told there are those here who might aid me. The naaru, for example.”

“They might, although I fear they have worries of their own.”

“Still, it would not hurt to ask.”

“That is so. She who does not ask, does not get, as they say.” The Broken did not sound particularly hopeful about the success of her mission, but perhaps that was just his manner. “The Born from Light might help one they deem worthy.”

“Born from Light?”

“The Sha’tar. That is what their name means. They are the naaru who were drawn to the ruins of Shattrath when they sensed the Aldor priests performing rites inside the rubble of one of their temples.”

“Arechron mentioned the Aldor.”

“As well he might. They are the servants of the naaru and of the Light. They are recruiting all they can find to oppose the Burning Legion. They would be grateful for any aid you could give them.”

“I have no doubt that theirs is a worthy goal, but I feel I can best serve the Light by overcoming Illidan. He is the greatest champion the Burning Legion has in Outland.”

“Is it not strange, then, that he seems to be at war with them?”

“It may be a deception. Or it may be a temporary disagreement. He has fallen out with his demonic overlords before, only to worm his way back into their favor.”

“You know a great deal about it.”

“I was his jailor for ten thousand years.”

“He must hate you.”

“And fear me, too, I hope.”

“I do not doubt it,” Alexius said.

“Can you arrange for me to see the naaru?”

“You can walk in and talk with them in the Terrace of Light. They will know you are here by now, and they will sense the power within you and give you a hearing.”

“Is it that simple?”

“For you it will be, of that I have no doubt. Your war against the new lord of Outland has not gone unremarked.”

“You said he has agents here. Would they be blood elves?”

“Perhaps, but I would not be too quick to rush to judgment if I were you. The sin’dorei here are sworn to protect the city. The Scryers look most unfavorably on those who aid your Betrayer. They betrayed him themselves.”

“Did they?”

“They were sent by Prince Kael’thas to lay waste to our city. A mighty force they were, the best and brightest of Kael’thas’s army, mighty magi and scholars. The Aldor braced themselves for defense, but the blood elves laid down their arms and asked for an audience with the naaru. It seems their leader, Voren’thal, had a vision. Only by serving the naaru would his people survive.”

“It might well have been a trick.”

“So many thought, but the naaru spoke with this Voren’thal and accepted his fealty. He and his people have served the city ever since.”

“A deception.”

“The naaru can see deep into the minds of those with whom they converse, and they are not easily deceived.”

“If any could do so, it would no doubt be Kael’thas. He is wily.”

“You speak with some bitterness.”

“I, too, once regarded him as an ally.”

“That is troubling. Nonetheless, the blood elves of the Scryer’s Tier would be the next faction I would suggest you seek aid from.”

Maiev felt her face redden. “I would rather seek aid from fel orcs.”

The Broken’s hand went to his mouth, and he stroked his drooping tendrils. “The enemy of my enemy…”

“You are not the first to suggest such a thing to me. But an alliance with the sin’dorei is a step too far.”

“That is a pity, for the Scryers are mighty sorcerers…”

Maiev’s fists clenched. The Broken realized his mistake. “I shall speak no more on the subject.”

“Perhaps that would be wise.” Maiev felt a brief sting of regret. She had nothing to gain by alienating the innkeeper. “I appreciate the aid you have given me. I am a stranger here, and a friendly guide is without price.”

“We are all strangers in this world, Maiev Shadowsong. We must help one another.”

“Is there anyone else who might help me?”

“There is Khadgar the archmage, a trusted ally of the naaru. I believe he is from your homeworld.”

“Tell me of him.”

“Tales swirl around this one, and it is difficult to get at the truth. He is a human. A few of them have found their way to Shattrath. Some say he is a hero who sacrificed himself to close the Dark Portal between Azeroth and Draenor. Others claim he was an apprentice of Medivh, the Guardian who was possessed by Sargeras.”