A Nerubian's Journey - Chapter 78

“Why do you insist on forcing me to try all of these strange drinks made by the surface races?” asked Hadix, lounging in a meticulously woven bed of webs as he stared skeptically at several bottles of wine that Krivax had brought for his visit.

“Come on, what’s wrong with trying new things every once in a while?” Krivax asked encouragingly as he poured the wine into a glass and handed it to his mentor. “I don’t see what the problem is. If I had lived for as long as you have, I would savor every new experience that came my way.”

It had been a while since he’d actually met with Hadix, and Krivax was surprised to find how much he’d missed the grouchy old nerubian. There weren’t many people who could look so disgruntled while being offered wine made by one of the most prestigious wineries in the Eastern Kingdoms.

Prior to making contact with the surface races, the only nerubians who had experienced the effects of alcohol were the Azjol-Nerub’s alchemists. After all, nerubians generally weren’t interested in mind-altering substances unless they could somehow be used to increase efficiency.

However, that sort of cultural attitude really didn’t sit well with the major breweries and wineries throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, many of which were surprisingly influential. Azjol-Nerub had the potential to be a truly massive market that they could exploit if they managed to create a drink palatable to the average nerubian.

As a result, Krivax often found himself being sent free samples of various alcoholic drinks by merchants across the Eastern Kingdoms. Krivax enjoyed trying them in his free time, despite the drinks needing specific alchemical ingredients if he wanted to get drunk. Unfortunately, most of them were… less than stellar.

The Frost Lotus Infused Wine, sent by the Fallrook Estate from the Hillsbrad Foothills, used ingredients imported from Northrend and was by far the best he’d ever tried.

His current objective was to find a wine that Hadix would like so he could get to see the normally severe Vizier drunk. Given how many serious matters he had to deal with on a day to day basis, Krivax had every intention of finding some fun where he could.

“Taking you on as an apprentice has given me all of the ‘new experiences’ I need for three centuries,” Hadix grumbled irritably as he twisted the wine glass to study it from every angle before finally taking a tentative sip.

“Well? How is it?” Krivax asked eagerly, putting aside the documents he was reading and turning his full attention to the Vizier.

One of the best parts about having enchanted parchment and quills that could fly and hide information from anyone not authorized to read them was the ability to get work done wherever he wanted. Whether he was lounging in his chamber, walking through the caverns of Azjol-Nerub, or visiting his injured mentor, Krivax could easily find an open space and start filling out documents.

Given that he didn’t need to sleep and that the work coming his way seemed limitless at times, no matter how much he tried to delegate, that ability was priceless.

Although, looking back on it now, perhaps there was something else wrong if he needed to work all of the time.

Hadix swirled the wine in his glass, pausing for a moment as he seemed to ponder over the best words to describe the experience.

“It’s… unexpectedly pleasant,” Hadix admitted, a touch of surprise and nostalgia in his voice. “The flavor is more subtle than those previous concoctions you had me try. It tastes like it was distilled with Luminous Dew, a plant which used to be harvested from the fungi farms deep within Azjol-Nerub when I was younger. I haven’t had anything like it in quite some time.”

Krivax could see just how much Hadix enjoyed the drink and suddenly felt a bit guilty that he just wanted to see what the Vizier was like when he was drunk.

Not guilty enough to stop, however.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Krivax said enthusiastically as he placed a bottle of wine on a floating tray near his resting place. “Feel free to enjoy as much of it as you want. After all, I doubt you’ll have another chance like this to relax in the near future.”

He was confident that was the case, as Hadix was the only person he knew who was more of a workaholic than himself. Hadix grumbled under his breath, but didn’t refute Krivax’s words as he quietly poured himself another glass.

Seeing this, Krivax turned his attention back to the documents floating about him, diligently continuing his work. Many of them were responses and requests to various Alliance officials in regard to his ‘Alliance Defense Force’ proposal, so they were actually quite important.

Krivax had wanted to call his organization the ‘Adventurers’ Guild’ at first, but most kingdoms seemed to have legal restrictions about what could and couldn’t be called a Guild, any of which contradicted each other. His proposed organization didn’t qualify with many of them, so it was simply less of a pain to choose a different name.

He also read through a report he’d requested from his subordinates about the draenei and tauren’s integration into the rest of Azeroth. The former was progressing fairly well, with trade between Azjol-Nerub and the draenei increasing every day. Not only that, but connections between the draenei and the Church of the Holy Light were flourishing.

Given that the draenei had a naaru with them, which was basically the Azerothian version of a literal angel, that was no surprise.

However, the tauren were simply less technologically advanced compared to other societies and thus had much less to offer. Still, it was nice to read that they were no longer under active threat by the centaurs. The combination of the Primal encroaching on centaur land and a steady supply of weapons to tauren by Azjol-Nerub was enough to deter them.

“Are you really so free of time that you can afford to waste it so frivolously?” Vizier Hadix asked gruffly from the meticulously woven web he was currently lounging in. “There’s truly no need for you to be here, brat.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with spending a little bit of time with my favorite Vizier, especially when he’s injured,” Krivax said teasingly as he finished penning a letter to Anduin Lothar, current regent lord of Stormwind. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of doing what work I need to do here and keeping you company at the same time.”

Krivax was more than a little glad that Hadix had been told to avoid using magic as much as possible while recovering from his injuries. Otherwise, Krivax was sure that he would have had something telekinetically thrown at his head.

Hadix was of course more than willing to express his displeasure in other ways, but he hadn’t actually forbidden Krivax from visiting, for all his grouching.

“I hardly see the point. This is certainly not the first time that I’ve been injured,” said Hadix, huffing and tapping another sip of his wine.

Malygos had discreetly informed the Alliance that he’d secured a path into Pandaria. As a result, everyone ‘in the know’ was doing what they could to prepare themselves to fight undead in the near future.

Currently, he and Hadix were in the Dalaran’s nerubian enclave. Krivax felt like Hadix would be better served returning to Azjol-Nerub for medical treatment, but the old Vizier insisted on remaining in the Eastern Kingdoms. Apparently, this was a sensitive period of time in his efforts to root out the Void cults, and he wanted to be available in case any of his colleagues or subordinates required his expertise.

From everything that Krivax had seen, he was starting to get the feeling that Dalaran had just grown on Hadix. The Vizier who he’d first met in Kilah’kuk would have never passed up the opportunity to avoid interacting with the surface races, but things had obviously changed after he started working with the Kirin Tor.

Honestly, it was a surprise sometimes for him to go out into the streets of Dalaran and see just how nonchalant the locals had become about the giant spiders walking their streets. Seeing the results of his efforts might have even brought a tear to Krivax’s eyes… if he had any tear ducts.

“Well, even if you don’t appreciate my wonderful company, it’s very helpful for me to have free access to your expertise,” Krivax said placatingly, though his words were completely the truth. “After all, those of us who haven’t lived for centuries sometimes need help in order to accomplish their goals.”

“Hmph. It’s gratifying to see that I’ve taught you well enough to at least know that,” Hadix drawled, voice still surprisingly composed despite drinking several glasses of wine. “Then tell me, how is that little project of yours progressing?”

Hadix was surprisingly approving of his plan to create a paramilitary force under the Alliance to address specific threats. Although, perhaps it shouldn’t be that surprising given that the Vizier had spent centuries combating mind bending monsters for a secret organization. Hadix was very much a believer in proactively destroying threats with extreme impunity before they could become a problem.

“It’s… a bit of a mixed bag to be honest,” Krivax said hesitantly as he gave a brief sigh and read through a report on the growing piracy situation. “Responses are positive for the most part, which was to be expected given that Azjol-Nerub will be the ones funding the program. The nations of the Eastern Kingdoms have no reason to oppose it when it costs them nothing. The kaldorei have shut down any proposals to join the Alliance, and are extremely reluctant to accept even associate status, which was also to be expected. I’m working on it.”

Now was probably the best time for Krivax to convince the kaldorei that they should work with the rest of Azeroth. While the Primals were proving to be an unfortunate distraction and drain on resources, they also gave Krivax a bit of leverage when speaking with the night elves.

After all, the Primals were primarily a problem for Kalimdor. If Azjol-Nerub were to withdraw military support from the efforts to contain the creatures, then the kaldorei would not be in a good place to handle it.

Of course, the Aspects wouldn’t approve of this and the Primals would likely be able to spread if they overcame the night elves, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still an effective threat. Although, it was a bit difficult wording a threat that was explicit enough to be understood and also subtle enough not to overly anger the kaldorei.

Elvish pride was a delicate thing, often pushing them into doing things that were counterproductive if they felt slighted.

However, Krivax had decided that it would be best to push the night elves after the Alliance had already formed the organization, as that would give him much more leverage.

“None of that was unanticipated. So long as I continue as planned, the Alliance should agree to form the Alliance Defense Force and allow a nerubian leader,” Krivax continued as he shuffled through his notes, searching for a particular letter. “At least, that’s what should be happening. In reality, I’m receiving a surprising amount of excuses and complaints, most of which seem to be coming from factions affiliated with Quel’Thalas.”

Krivax handed over an unofficial letter he’d received from Count Dalton of the Alterac Kingdom. After King Perenolde made up an obvious excuse to delay his acceptance of the Alliance Defense Force, Krivax contacted one of his few acquaintances in the kingdom to learn more.

Apparently, the only noble family in the kingdom who’d been allowed the privilege of trading with Quel’Thalas was pushing for the king to refuse his proposal. It had been clear for a while that the high elves were beginning to actually take notice of events beyond their borders and make use of their influence, but this wasn’t how he’d hoped things would develop.

“Oh? How surprising. I hadn’t expected those foolish elves to actually do something competent,” said Hadix, sounding impressed as he read the letter in one hand and poured himself another glass of wine with one of his others.

“Competent? All they’re doing is making my life more difficult,” Krivax replied, unable to keep the offense from his voice. “The Alliance Defense Force will help Quel’Thalas just as much as everyone else, so why are they trying to stop it? I thought they’d already learned after the Second War that they can’t afford to ignore the threats of the outside world!”

It was honestly baffling to Krivax that the high elves were working against him when he was just trying to help everyone. The whole point of ensuring that the Horde didn’t reform was so that Azeroth wouldn’t have unnecessary political divisions while also dealing with existential threats, but it seemed like things weren’t going to be that easy.

However, the most frustrating thing about the whole situation was that he didn’t really know the motivations behind it. Quel’Thalas had always been an insular and closed off kingdom, allowing entrance to only a few merchants while their citizens rarely left their cities.

Krivax knew quite a bit about the high elves, but most of that was due to either meta-knowledge or the benefits of his position. For the average human walking the streets of Capital City, Quel’Thalas might as well be a mythical land from fairy tales. While this was slowly beginning to change, it meant that elvish internal politics were utterly opaque to anyone living outside of the city.

For all he knew, King Anastarian could have been overthrown in a coup, or Silvermoon could have secretly been taken over by a Dreadlord. Prince Kael’thas hadn’t returned to Dalaran in months and wasn’t answering any letters, so there was no way for him to know.

Krivax explained all of his frustrations to Hadix as the older Vizier lounged in his web with a contemplative expression. After several moments, Krivax was more than a little surprised when Hadix let out a soft chuckle.

“If I were to guess, I would assume that you’ve fallen victim to your own success,” said Hadix, a hint of amusement coloring his voice. “If the elves have made such a dramatic departure from their normal behavior, then the most likely explanation is that they’ve begun to view Azjol-Nerub as a genuine threat to their influence and safety, rightly so. That being the case, it’s obvious that they would oppose you.”

Krivax hated to admit that Hadix’s theory made sense, though it seemed woefully short sighted to him.

“But don’t they understand that we have more important things to worry about than competing for political influence?” Krivax asked with exasperation, glaring at a document from Kul’Tiras that was also awfully non-committal. He hadn’t even known that Quel’Thalas had any dealings with the maritime nation. “They’ve been informed about the Lich King, just like everyone else. I thought that people were supposed to come together during times of crisis, not waste time with petty political nonsense.”

He’d seen how the Eastern Kingdoms had come together to deal with the Horde, and had expected something similar when it came to the Lich King. Much to his confusion, however, the sense of urgency among the various nations was far less than compared to the Horde.

He could understand that the Lich King was much farther away, but the Aspects had been explicitly clear about the severity of the threat. So why was Krivax still needing to deal with political infighting when they were all working toward the same goal?

“Once again, you are a victim of your own success,” Hadix explained, his expression more relaxed as ever as the alcohol began to take effect. “The surface races likely expect the Lich King to be handled by either us or the Aspects, and why wouldn’t they? It doesn’t help that no matter how threatening the dragons claim this necromancer to be, nobody has seen the proof with their own eyes. Until the undead begin to invade their own lands, a significant portion of them will always remain unconcerned.”

Unfortunately, that sounded distressingly plausible to Krivax. While the people of the Eastern Kingdoms held no great reverence for the Aspects, nobody could deny the power of the beings who put an end to the Second War in a single day.

With such powerful figures on their side, why would the nations of the Eastern Kingdoms feel pressured by such a distant threat?

“Well, that time may come sooner rather than later,” Krivax grumbled as he thought back to the first reports he’d received of the situation in Pandaria. “With nobody being able to locate the giant undead turtle fortress that’s swimming around somewhere, the Lich King could appear on their shores one day without warning.”

Once he gained access to Pandaria, Malygos had immediately set about thoroughly scrying the continent to get a good idea of the situation. It hadn’t taken the Aspect of Magic long to discover that the Scourge had established a fortified stronghold on the Isle of Thunder, the death magic radiating from that place apparently as obvious as a beacon in the dark.

Unfortunately, the Dreadlords weren’t incompetent enough to just conveniently leave Shen-zin Su parked off the coast of the island like an unattended car. If the Lich King was a stationary target, then the Aspects would likely have already developed an invasion plan and moved to wipe the Scourge off the map before they could grow any stronger.

With the Lich King currently missing and doing who knows what, the Aspects were hesitant to reveal that they’d gained access to Pandaria with an assault on a heavily fortified location that wouldn’t destroy the main threat. Better to lure the enemy into a false sense of security and suddenly teleport four super dragons on top of them when they least expected it.

At the very minimum, Malygos insisted that they knew the location of the Dreadlord around the Lich King before launching an assault.

“Rather than just whining, you should actually do something about it,” Hadix continued, his words only slightly slurred by the wine. “I taught you better than to simply complain about your problems. This Alliance Defense Force of yours is a good idea, and you’ve always been bafflingly competent at stumbling your way into getting what you want, so do it again.”

Krivax couldn’t help but feel somewhat hearted by Hadix’s gruff encouragement. There were only a handful of times over the years when the Vizier gave him a compliment.

“You think I’m competent?” Krivax asked teasingly, mood rising at his mentor’s disgruntled expression. “Perhaps you should drink more often.”

Hadix shot him a withering look, although Krivax could tell that the Vizier was more amused than insulted. “Don’t push your luck, brat. A prestigious political position and ridiculous dragon powers won’t stop me from tossing you out of this chamber.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll behave,” said Krivax, chuckling as he raised his hands in surrender. “But you’re right. If I want to deal with this issue, then I’ll have to confront the root of the problem. I suppose a visit to Silvermoon City is in my near future.”

“Hmph. Good idea. I’ll go with you. We should probably learn what’s caused those elves to start acting this way before they make a mess of things like usual,” said Hadix, nodding approvingly before gesturing imperiously to a different bottle of wine that was also sent by the Fallbrook Estate. “Now hand me that bottle. Lets see if their previous success was merely a fluke or something worthy of attention. I know several Viziers who might appreciate a drink of such quality if so.”

Suddenly, Krivax had an image of several stern-faced Vizier sitting around a web-laden room and pretentiously critiquing wine and couldn’t help but laugh.

Vizier Hadix immediately took in his surroundings the moment that he stepped through the portal to Silvermoon City.

His proposal to join Krivax during his diplomatic visit to the elves had been borne from a combination of boredom and mental inebriation, but it was no great burden. Until his moderately concerning hypersensitivity to the Void disappeared, Hadix had little else to occupy his time with other than ensuring his fool apprentice didn’t get himself killed.

He hadn’t genuinely considered that to be a serious concern before leaving for Silvermoon, but the sight in front of him didn’t fill him with confidence that the day would be purely peaceful.

There was a distinct air of tension surrounding the high elves waiting to greet them. It was a subtle thing, something that Hadix would have failed to notice if he had not spent months meticulously studying the body languages of the surface races. However, that tension, along with the several elves wearing crimson armor and carrying large two-sided blades, set him on edge.

Hadix glanced toward his overly-large apprentice and confirmed that Krivax had noticed the situation as well. The brat was often foolish on several matters, but his position as a diplomat had greatly improved his ability to both lie and discern the feelings of others.

Hadix discreetly caught the attention of the leader of Krivax’s protection detail and tapped two fingers from his lower hands against his leg. The gesture could be mistaken for a simple nervous tick, but Hadix knew his message had been understood when the guard captain subtly shifted his stance, putting himself in a better position to draw his weapon if necessary.

Hadix briefly contemplated casting protection spells over himself, but decided against it when his gaze drifted toward the armored elves who he recognized as Spellbreakers. Intelligence reports from the Circle of Vizier’s analysts had not been very clear about the extent of their abilities, but the Spellbreakers were an elite group of elvish warriors capable of distributing and contorting magical energies. It was no great stretch of logic to assume they were also skilled at detecting such magic.

The closest equivalent Hadix was familiar with was Azjol-Nerub’s own Obsidian Destroyers, making them very formidable foes. The Circle of Viziers advised tearing the Spellbreakers to pieces with swarms of skitterers, but Hadix currently didn’t have such a swarm at hand.

Unfortunate.

“Hello. Thank you for agreeing to allow us into your beautiful city,” said Krivax, his voice forcefully cheerful as he spoke in impressively fluent thalassian. “I am Ambassador Krivax of Azjol-Nerub. I believe I’m here to speak with King Anastarian?”

In front of the Spellbreakers was an elvish woman with sharp, dark eyes and dressed in a flowing silver gown made from one of the most expensive varieties of silks exported by Azjol-Nerub. It was heavily enchanted, and wouldn’t be out of place on both a battlefield or at a royal ball.

Although Hadix had educated himself on the body language of the surface races, he was unable to discern anything aside from polite professionalism from the woman’s expression.

“Greetings, Vizier Krivax. I am Delania Evermind, the Magistrix assigned to welcome you to our city,” said the woman, offering a graceful bow. “I’m afraid there must be some confusion. You are scheduled to meet with Grand Magister Belo’vir, leader of the Convocation of Silvermoon.”

Concerning…

“I see. I apologize for my ignorance, but has something happened to King Anastarian?” Krivax asked politely. “It is sometimes difficult to hear news of events in Quel’Thalas from beyond its borders.”

Magistrix Evermind smiled, her expression revealing little. “Matters such as these are best handled by the Convocation. King Anastarian need not be bothered. I assure you, Grand Magister Belo’vir is completely authorized to speak for our people.”

Hadix instantly understood from the content of the elf’s words that the Convocation of Silvermoon had recently increased its influence over elvish society.

Quel’Thalas was a nation with a rather strange type of government. Unlike other more sensible nations which empowered a single ruler to make decisions on behalf of their nation, the elves just had to be different. They employed a system which distributed power between the royal Sunstrider dynasty and the Convocation of Silvermoon, a council of the seven most powerful lords in Quel’Thalas.

From what Azjol-Nerub was able to discern, the Sunstrider Dynasty had been losing power to the Convocation for millennia, a process accelerated by Prince Sunstrider choosing to live in Dalaran rather than among his own people. Apparently, the Convocation had now gathered enough power that they were now the ones making foreign policy decisions in elvish society.

Hadix found this development to be somewhat concerning. If the elves were now being led by an individual who was both competent and resentful of nerubian influence in the Eastern Kingdom, as circumstantial evidence suggested, then it could be a problem.

Krivax had always been far more concerned about grand existential threats like the Burning Legion and their schemes than mundane politics. Hadix had to admit that he felt similarly, the vast majority of his life dedicated to combating the malign influences of the Old Gods. However, he had been burned enough by political realities to understand that they couldn’t be ignored.

“Very well, Magistrix Evermind,” Krivax responded, maintaining his composure. “We look forward to meeting with Grand Magister Belo’vir. I haven’t spoken to him since our meeting in Capital City in the immediate aftermath of the Second War, so I look forward to it.”

Magistrix Evermind nodded and gestured to the guards, who immediately fell into a protective formation around them.

“Excellent. If you would please follow me,” said Magistrix Evermind, leading them through the empty hallways of the portal facility and onto the streets of Silvermoon City.

Hadix ignored the diplomatic fawning coming from his apprentice and focused intently on his surroundings. The very first thing that Hadix noticed was that the building they had just left must have been heavily warded, otherwise he would have immediately sensed the vast font of arcane magic in the far north.

Silvermoon City was famous for not only being the capital of Quel’Thalas, but also because it drew directly from the most powerful source of arcane magic in the Eastern Kingdoms, the Sunwell. Sensing it now, Hadix could already determine that the Circle of Viziers had vastly underestimated the potency of the Sunwell, as it was many times stronger than the leyline nexuses under Dalaran or En’kilah.

It was easy for Hadix to see now how the elves had remained so prosperous despite the poor decisions of their leaders.

The second thing that Hadix noticed was how thoroughly intertwined Silvermoon City was with magic.

He could see several large golems patrolling the streets, their limbs and torso floating independently of each other with arcane crystals powering their movements. Light fixtures gently illuminated the streets while levitating in the air, seemingly for no reason other than aesthetics. Nearly every building was predominantly blue and gold in color and made from some manner of magic infused material, allowing for powerful wards.

The very air itself seemed to pulse with magic, leading Hadix to believe that his casting spells would be several times easier in Silvermoon City than elsewhere.

As Magistrix Evermind led them toward Silvermoon’s administrative district, Hadix noticed that none of the elvish civilians seemed to be suffering from hunger or sickness. Even when the other surface races attempted to hide the destitute portions of their societies, there was always something that escaped the web.

Be it the gaunt face of a beggar, the persistent cough of a diseased peasant, or the distant cry of a hungry hatchling, Hadix had never seen a nation that could match Azjol-Nerub in prosperity.

Silvermoon seemed different.

Not only that, but he could sense that every single civilian could potentially learn magic.

This only heightened Hadix’s unease as he began to worry that Quel’Thalas may actually have the ability to become a true competitor to Azjol-Nerub. What they lacked in sheer numbers and resources could potentially be compensated for by the Sunwell and a powerful populace.

Notably, however, the thread of tension that Hadix could see in the Spellbreakers was non-existent among the elvish civilians. If Quel’thalas was indeed suffering from internal instability, then its people seemed ignorant of it.

Eventually, the Magistrix led them to a grand building larger than a nerubian ziggurat and surrounded by seven towers reaching high into the sky. The structure had clearly been constructed with the intention of displaying power and influence, as it seemed to loom over the surrounding buildings and was rather grandiose in design.

However, Hadix paid little attention to this and instead noted its many defenses, as that was what was truly important.

Its large, ornate doors were guarded by two golems and several elite Spellbreakers who were stationed at its entrance. Although he couldn’t see them, Hadix could sense several elvish archers camouflaged in strategic positions on the towers. He could even sense someone flying through the air under the cover of an invisibility enchantment, most likely a dragonhawk rider.

Hadix couldn’t help but approve. If this was the center of decision making in Quel’Thalas, then it was wise of the elves to protect it as much as possible.

The Magistrix led them into the structure, past the Spellbreakers who watched them with stoic expressions. The interior was just as grand as its exterior, with wide and resplendent halls, tapestries, and various other elvish fopperies that Hadix didn’t care about.

What was far more interesting was the angry elvish woman who began storming toward them the moment they entered. The woman was one of the few of her kind who showed any signs of aging, and it was clear from her manner of dress that she was of high station.

Hadix was almost disappointed when Magistrix Evermind merely gestured to the furious elf and a Spellbreaker broke away from the delegation to calmly, but forcefully lead her away.

“Is… everything alright?” asked Krivax, confusion evident in his voice as he watched the strange scene. “Have we done something to offend your people, Magistrix?”

A hint of annoyance flashed through Evermind’s expression before disappearing. “Not at all, Ambassador. There have simply been some political disagreements within the Convocation which Lady Elionara is very passionate about. It is nothing that you need to be concerned about.”

Hadix didn’t believe a word of that and made a mental note to investigate the grievances of Lady Elionara at a later time. He could tell that Krivax also shared his suspicions, but there was little they could do.

“Understood,” Krivax replied diplomatically, keeping any doubt out of his voice.

Magistrix Evermind nodded and led them further into the building. The hallway gave way to a grand chamber with an arched ceiling adorned with elvish motifs and a large, circular table in the center surrounded by seven overly intricate chairs, six of which were empty.

Sitting at the head of the table was an elven man clad in robes of deep purple who could only be Grand Magister Belo’vir.

His presence commanded immediate attention, the air around him charged with a subtle aura of magic that even most Viziers would find imposing. Much like Lady Elionara, the Grand Magister was one of the few elves that showed signs of age with bits of gray in his brown hair and slightly weathered skin, though his eyes held an intelligence that made clear he was not to be underestimated.

Hadix was not a person who easily impressed, but there was an… imperceptible quality about the elf in front of him that put him on edge. If the six empty seats of the absent elvish lords weren’t already clue enough, Hadix would have quickly realized that Grand Magister Belo’vir was a very dangerous individual.

“Welcome, Ambassador Krivax of Azjol-Nerub, to Silvermoon City,” the Grand Magister greeted, rising from his seat to offer a courteous but distant bow. “I was quite glad to receive your request to visit our city. A meeting like this between our nations was quite overdue.”

There had been communications between Azjol-Nerub and Quel’Thalas for quite some time, of course, but this was the highest-ranking diplomatic encounter they’d had so far after the Second War, and the first on their own soil.

“Indeed, Grand Magister Belo’vir,” Krivax responded, returning the bow with practiced ease. “It is a pleasure to see you again. We haven’t had the chance to speak since our last encounter in Capital City.”

“Quite. If my recollection is correct, you were quite different at the time,” said the Grand Magister, gesturing toward the piles of enchanted cushions near the desk. “Much like the kingdom you serve, you’ve elevated yourself at a speed that has left many surprised, Ambassador. Forgive me for the inconvenience, but we could not find a seat appropriate for someone of your stature.”

The next few minutes were dull as Hadix quietly listened to his apprentice and the Grand Magister exchange the obligatory pleasantries. There was a moment when Belo’vir attempted to pull Hadix into conversation, offering him compliments about the duel he had in Dalaran against that pitiful elf, but he politely deflected.

Hadix’s role here was simply as an observer; one who could notice the smaller details that Krivax might not. His apprentice had earned his position as Azjol-Nerub’s head ambassador, and Hadix would not infringe on it unnecessarily.

Fortunately, Belo’vir seemed like a person who also disliked tedious formalities and they soon moved on to the topic at hand.

“The Alliance Defense Force seems like quite an interesting proposal, Ambassador,” said Grand Magister Belo’vir with what sounded like genuine approval. “A paramilitary organization made up of powerful individuals and augmented by the diverse resources of the various member nations of the Alliance. One with the mandate to identify and confront threats to the safety of our peoples. An organization like that would certainly be of great use.”

“Thank you, Grand Magister. I think so as well,” said Krivax after a moment of hesitation. “Then… can Azjol-Nerub expect your nation’s support once we present this proposal to the Alliance?”

Hadix didn’t blame Krivax for his confusion. It was a sentiment that they shared.

Grand Magister Belo’vir smiled thinly as he responded. “You can. In fact, Quel’Thalas approves of this initiative so much that we intend to assist Azjol-Nerub in its funding and management. I already have several Magisters eager to offer their services.”

Ah. Now I see.

The elves didn’t want to block Krivax’s proposal. They wished to take it over and make it their own.

So long as Azjol-Nerub was the only nation funding the Alliance Defense Force, it was only natural that they would be able to have overwhelming control over it. Now that Quel’thalas had shown an intent to expand their influence beyond their borders, they would naturally seek to control such a potentially powerful organization.

Quel’Thalas lacked the influence to do so now, but Hadix had no doubt that the Grand Magister would eventually propose that an elf should lead the Alliance Defense Force. If that was to become the case, then Azjol-Nerub would be forced to hand over the fruits of its resources and labor to a rival nation.

“Your willingness to assist us is very generous, Grand Magister, but it is unnecessary,” said Krivax, obviously choosing his words carefully. “Azjol-Nerub had already allocated sufficient resources to this project. While we appreciate your offer, we would not wish to impose an unnecessary burden on your people.”

The Grand Magister paused for several moments as he assessed Krivax. After a while, he let out a soft chuckle before speaking. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to insist. I have a belief that Quel’Thalas is duty bound to protect and shepherd those who cannot do so themselves. This initiative offers us the perfect opportunity to exercise that duty, and I’d be remiss to not take advantage of it.”

Once Belo’vir finished speaking, Hadix suddenly realized what quality about the elf bothered him so much. It was hidden very thoroughly, but he could sense a deep conviction in the old elf’s words that reminded him of the zealotry Hadix often encountered in Void cultists. It was quite telling that the Grand Magister had used the word ‘shepherd’ rather than lead when speaking of his people’s role.

When the Grand Magister spoke, it was with a surety of purpose and a desire for control that Hadix found troubling. He had a feeling that Azjol-Nerub and Quel’Thalas would be conflicting much more in the near future.

Hadix turned his attention to his apprentice and saw that he seemed quite uncomfortable. It was unlikely that Krivax could discern the Grand Magister’s true nature, but the brat generally had good instincts. Hadix suspected that Krivax would start complaining that the elf was ‘creepy’ as soon as they were able to speak privately.

Krivax made an admirable attempt at convincing the Grand Magister away from interfering with the Alliance Defense Force, but it was a hopeless endeavor. Belo’vir eventually bluntly stated that Quel’Thalas would use its influence to ensure that the initiative would not move forward unless they were allowed to contribute and were granted certain privileges.

Faced with such an ultimatum, Krivax had no other choice but to capitulate, though not before receiving a concession that Quel’Thalas would assist in having the proposal ratified by the Alliance as quickly as possible.

Hadix knew that Krivax wanted the organization formed in time to confront the Lich King.

“Splendid,” said Grand Magister Belo’vir, his eyes glinting with a hint of triumph as he leaned forward. “With our two nations in agreement, I’m certain the Alliance Defense Force will be officially formed within the next few weeks. I must say, Ambassador Krivax, I’m truly glad that we were able to meet today. I’ve been keeping quite a keen eye on you recently, so this has been a pleasant opportunity.”

“Really?” said Krivax, distinctly unnerved by the elf. “That is… flattering, Grand Magister. May I inquire as to the reason?”

“From what I understand, you’ve risen rapidly in your nation’s hierarchy while also being largely responsible for its current diplomatic successes,” said Grand Magister Belo’vir, his gaze assessing as he stared at Krivax. “You’ve received the favor and blessing of one of the most powerful entities on Azeroth, and continue to expand Azjol-Nerub’s influence across the world. I have found your actions to be quite inspiring. If only you had been born in Quel’Thalas…”

The Grand Magister trailed off with clear regret.

Krivax shifted in discomfort before responding. “Thank you, Grand Magister. I am honored by your words and look forward to our future cooperation. If there is nothing else, then I believe we have discussed all necessary matters for the day.”

“Ah, there is just one more thing,” said Grand Magister Belo’vir, standing from his seat. “I intend to send my student, Magister Rommath, to represent Quel’Thalas in the Alliance Defense Force. I believe it would be best if he spent some time away from his regular duties, and I believe this is the best opportunity to do so.”

Hadix remembered that name. Rommath was the mage sent by Quel’Thalas to assist in recovering the Dragon Soul from Cho’gall. From what he could recall, Rommath seemed to be very close to Prince Kael’thas and a powerful archmage in his own right. If nothing else he was far from an unworthy candidate.

Most importantly, he would be a perfect source of information to understand the current political situation in Quel’Thalas.

Hadix dearly hoped that whatever folly had overcome the elves was manageable. After all, it would be truly troublesome if the struggle for influence between Azjol-Nerub and Quel’Thalas continued to escalate.