Undercurrents

Duke still had a mountain of work to do. He was burning the candle at both ends, and frankly, he was starting to feel like a one-man band trying to conduct an entire orchestra.

Then the scouts brought news that hit him like a ton of bricks: the Horde Chieftain's standard had been swapped out for a grim black hammer, and the Dark Portal was belching green light once more.

This meant Orgrim had, against all odds, still clawed his way to the Warchief's throne, just like in the history books. Duke felt a pang of something akin to disappointment. He'd gone to great lengths to throw a wrench in Orgrim's plans, practically slandering the guy from here to the Blasted Lands, yet the brute still landed the top job. He didn't know whether to lament that history was as stubborn as a mule, or to grudgingly admit that true heroes, or at least truly persistent ones, always found a way to shine, no matter how much you tried to dim their light.

Duke was sweating bullets over his own butterfly effect. The Horde's capture of Stormwind had cost them an unexpected number of troops. Without Sargeras pulling Medivh's strings, the Dark Portal's transportation capacity had plummeted, barely scraping by at a third of its original output.

The Horde could still funnel Orc warriors from Draenor, sure. But Duke knew, deep in his bones, that these later arrivals were nowhere near the fighting machines of the first wave. That initial onslaught? Those were the cream of the crop, veterans of the Draenei wars or hardened survivors of brutal hunts. If the combat power of the Orc elites before the Portal slammed shut was a solid 10, this new batch was barely a 7, maybe a 6 on a bad day. And to top it off, Duke's gut punch to the Blackrock Clan had left Orgrim with fewer chips to play, making it harder for him to keep the rest of the Horde in line.

It was a safe bet that Gul'dan, that slimy but undeniably powerful warlock, would be pulling out all the stops, conjuring up even more terrifying warriors to save his own skin.

While the Orcish tribes were playing out their historical roles across the sea, the human kingdoms on Azeroth were locked in a stalemate, their negotiations going nowhere fast.

Duke knew, with crystal clarity, that only when the seven human kingdoms finally got their act together, joining forces with the Dwarves, Gnomes, and High Elves, would the world of Azeroth witness the birth of the legendary "Alliance!"

The problem was, this grand alliance, which should have been a done deal by now, was spinning its wheels in the mud.

Based on the frantic messages Lothar had sent back, Duke had pieced together the unholy mess.

Right now, kings and high-ranking nobles from across the lands, including the venerable King Terenas of Lordaeron, were all convinced that Llane was just an incompetent buffoon, a king who'd been run out of his own country by a bunch of oversized trolls.

The real snag, of course, was Duke, the rogue butterfly flapping his wings. In the original timeline, Llane had kicked the bucket, and Lothar had arrived in Lordaeron as a tragic hero, with only a handful of guards and the pint-sized prince in tow. That's why the other six human kingdoms had been willing to nominate Lothar as the Alliance's supreme commander.

First, there was the undeniable, in-your-face threat of the Horde.

Second, Lothar's noble lineage had pulled serious weight. Historically, Lothar had achieved political unity by playing the "last descendant of Emperor Thoradin" card, essentially acknowledging the kingship of all human monarchs.

Third, the Stormwind Kingdom, in the original timeline, was a complete paper tiger, utterly devoid of military might. Handing their soldiers over to Lothar had been the safest bet for everyone involved.

But now, only the Stormwind Kingdom and the Dwarf Kingdom in the southern Eastern Kingdoms had felt the Horde's wrath. The northern continent was still living in blissful ignorance, calm as a millpond.

And Lothar hadn't even bothered to pull the Emperor Thoradin card.

The biggest elephant in the room was Llane's fifty thousand elite troops. Once they joined the fray, the question of who would call the shots became a monumental headache. After all, the original Arathor Empire had gone belly up precisely because everyone wanted to be top dog, and nobody was willing to play second fiddle.

Duke was starting to feel a cold dread creep up his spine. As a time traveler, he knew exactly which two nasty surprises the Horde had up their sleeve.

The first was the Trolls!

These terrifying humanoids, tall and sporting wicked long fangs, yet leaner than the Orcs, were the original inhabitants of Azeroth. Fourteen thousand years ago, the Trolls ruled this planet with an iron fist, establishing vast empires like the Amani and Gurubashi, both under the thumb of the Zandalari tribe, collectively known as the Dara Empire.

Even the oh-so-famous Night Elves were just a bunch of dark trolls who'd wandered to the Well of Eternity and gotten a magical makeover from its arcane energies.

Over a thousand years ago, it was the rise of humanity that had driven the Trolls, splintered into countless clans, from their fertile lands into the barren mountains. Their hatred for humans and High Elves was through the roof.

When the Orcish Horde came knocking, they were bound to form an unholy alliance.

The second card was the truly forbidden, truly evil abomination – the Death Knight.

Duke shuddered, a full-body tremor, just thinking about the sheer power and terror a Death Knight could unleash.

After much agonizing, Duke decided he had no choice but to personally kick the Alliance into gear.

September 25th dawned, no different from any other soul-crushing meeting King Terenas of Lordaeron had convened with representatives from the various kingdoms.

It was an endless parade of petty bickering and biting sarcasm.

Among the nine bigwigs present, only Llane and Terenas held the title of King. The other five human kingdoms had sent mere dukes and the like. The Dwarves, bless their stout hearts, had dispatched a brigadier general, and the High Elves? Oh, they were truly rubbing salt in the wound – they'd sent a substitute senator, for crying out loud!

And it was precisely these guys, whose status was arguably lower than Llane's, who dared to talk smack about him.

"Hmph! 'Orcish frenzy,' you say? They're nothing but a glorified bunch of overgrown trolls! I never thought the descendant of Emperor Thoradin, the very man who kicked the trolls out and paved the way for humanity's rise, couldn't even handle a few troll-like brutes and had to tuck tail and run across half an ocean in shame!" The first salvo came from a puffed-up duke from the Kingdom of Gilneas.

"You...!" If striking this pompous windbag wouldn't spark a full-blown international incident, Lothar would have gladly slapped the guy across the face with a gauntlet.

"And isn't it all because of the mess your guardian, Medivh, stirred up anyway?" The representative from the Kingdom of Alterac chimed in, piling on. "If Medivh hadn't gone rogue and ripped open the Dark Portal, would we even have an Orc invasion? Would any of this be happening? Why should the entire human world clean up your mess after you made it?"

"Enough! Do not insult Medivh! This was clearly the foul work of the demon lord Sargeras! If you continue to besmirch his name, I don't mind inviting you to a duel, as Medivh's dearest friend!" This time, even King Llane, usually a picture of regal composure, couldn't bite his tongue. As Llane's childhood friend, Medivh had been a man of immense integrity. After learning the truth, Llane had gone to great lengths to protect his friend's reputation, even after Medivh's death. Now, for this loudmouth to spit in Medivh's eye in public? That was a direct slap in Llane's face!

Llane's unexpected outburst, delivered with the force of a thunderclap, finally made the Alterac representative shut his trap.

But the meeting remained dead in the water.

At that moment, a young wizard, who had only just appeared beside Llane today and had been largely ignored by the various representatives, sported a mysterious, knowing smile on his face...