While Deren and Jaina were discussing the orcs...
Onyxia had somehow appeared behind Deren, resting her chin on Deren shoulder, her breath warm with the unique scent of Dragon Race: "I bet within a month, orcs will be smuggling themselves into Theramore to work. Those greenskins may be stubborn, but they're not stupid. There's money to be made here, plenty to eat, and no one to bully you."
"We won't have to wait that long. Garrosh can restrict population movement, but he can't control family interactions. Soon, all sorts of family visits will pick up. After all, most people are just trying to make ends meet. Taking care of their stomachs is more urgent than any honor or dignity," Deren said calmly.
"Speaking of Orgrimmar," Jaina changed the subject, pulling a letter bearing the Stormwind City insignia from a pile of documents, "News has come from Stormwind City that Varian is finally going to make his move against Blackrock Mountain."
Deren raised an eyebrow and took the letter. The edge of the paper was marked with the Stormwind City Lion emblem. " Nefarian's good days are numbered? It seems my brother-in-law has gotten himself into a lot of trouble. His Blackrock Mountain is right next to Stormwind City. No king can accept having an evil Black Dragon living beside his throne. Varian wants to use him to establish his authority and build his prestige."
Onyxia scoffed, toying with a gold coin in her long, slender fingers, the metal twirling nimbly between them. "It'll be good for him to suffer a bit. All he does is hide in his lab fiddling with those ridiculous Dragon Beast hybridization experiments." She suddenly scratched the coin with her sharp fingernail. "A Black Dragon Prince, reduced to a goblin scientist."
Deren: And what about you? If it weren't for my appearance, you'd still be playing the noble game in Stormwind City, ending up with your head hanging from the city gate. Last night we were even talking about your role as Katrana in the Stonemasons' Guild riot.
" Stormwind City is serious this time." Jaina flipped through another document bound with a red ribbon. "They've joined forces with the Dwarven Firearm of Ironforge and the Gnome mechanics of Gnomeregan, preparing to attack from three directions simultaneously. What's more troublesome," she lowered her voice, "Is that they've brought in specialized dragon-hunting experts from Dalaran, and they've reportedly developed new dragon-slaying weapons."
Deren: Why does it feel like my brother-in-law is about to get a lesson from Nitroglycerin? He asked Jaina, "Did Dalaran supply Stormwind City with Glyph Bomb?"
Jaina glanced at the report, "It wasn't explicitly stated, but it's highly likely. Stormwind City is wealthy, while Dalaran, after its massive battle with the Undead demons, is severely depleted and desperately short of funds. Therefore, they've sent a skilled Mage Squad specializing in glycerin to slay the dragon and earn some money to supplement their income."
Deren nodded. "This way, we can make a fortune and keep the secret of the Glyph Bomb in our own hands."
Chromie suddenly woke up from his nap, rubbing his eyes as he interjected, "That Nefarian deserved it. A long time ago, when I went to Blackrock Mountain to observe the flow of time, he actually tried to draw my blood for experiments!" The little Gnome angrily waved his fist, "Saying things like 'the bloodline of Bronze Dragon might be able to cultivate Dragon Beast that control time,' he was insane! Luckily, I ran fast."
"Should we inform your brother?" Deren asked Onyxia, subtly dodging Chromie's waving fist.
The Black Dragon Princess waved her hand, the gold coin turning into a pool of liquid gold in her palm before quickly returning to its original state. "No need. Deathwing's offspring aren't so easily wiped out." She smiled, revealing sharp teeth, a dangerous red glint in her eyes. "Besides, it'll be good for him to suffer a bit at the hands of those insignificant humans. This isn't the era where Dragon can roam freely anymore. Don't they remember how our father was crippled? Anyway, if he couldn't win in the end, he could just fly away. If he really got killed, he deserved it." Onyxia wasn't worried at all that her foolish brother would be killed or crippled.
"And there's even more surprising news," Jaina pulled a gold-edged letter from the bottom of the pile of documents, " Lordaeron has been restored."
Jaina jerked her head up, the teacup in her hand clattering onto the silver saucer. Black tea splattered onto the pristine white tablecloth, spreading like a pool of blood. "What?"
"Ten days ago, the Alliance held a restoration ceremony on the ruins of the former Lordaeron City." Jaina unfolded the letter, which bore the new emblem of Lordaeron. "They purged most of the Undead forces around the capital and rebuilt parts of the city. A distant relative of the Menethil family has ascended to the throne."
Jaina's expression was complex and difficult to decipher. Her slender fingers gently caressed the family crest on her chest, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. "At least... our homeland is back." Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, and tears glistened in her eyes.
Noticing Jaina's reaction, Deren subtly winked at Jaina. The Archmage, understanding, changed the subject. "However, population is a major problem; less than one in ten survived the war. Interestingly," she turned to another page of the document, " Quel'Thalas had already declared its intention to open the entire continent to immigration, and the new king of Lordaeron followed suit with preferential policies to encourage the Alliance's various races to migrate. Everyone's scrambling for new immigrants."
Deren stroked his chin thoughtfully. " Kael'thas's move was brilliant. It solved the problem of the High Elf' sparse population and also earned him a good reputation within the Alliance." He looked out at the harbor. "But humans probably prefer Lordaeron, after all, it's a human kingdom?"
"According to intelligence," Jaina's fingertip traced a line of text, " Kael'thas managed to bring back a group of ancient elves from Feralas. There are several hundred of them."
Sylvanas suddenly sneered, setting down the dinner knife she had been toying with, its silver blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight. "Those Sindra? Arcane supremacists. They actually managed to be lured away from that godforsaken place. They've been around for ten thousand years, and they've only gotten worse. There are always some who are dissatisfied and want to try a new life." Her gaze swept over her sister Vereesa. "But compared to some elves blinded by love, they're still quite clear-headed."
Vereesa's face immediately turned as red as her robes. She opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by Jaina.
"And," Jaina lowered her voice, unfolding a map of Northrend on the table, " the Alliance high command is already secretly discussing an expedition to Northrend. But the scout ships sent out earlier discovered that the Dragon are refusing them passage through Dragonblight. So we have to find a way to get around them from other areas."
"So the expedition plan is currently only on paper. But the Alliance believes that Arthas's Undead forces are now gathered at Icecrown Glacier and will one day return," she pointed to Icecrown Glacier at the northern end of the map, " The Alliance has also begun contacting Kul Tiras, considering assembling naval projection capabilities in preparation for a large-scale Expeditionary Force."
Sylvanas suddenly stood up, her cloak drawing a sharp arc behind her. " Arthas's good days are numbered." Her voice was as cold as the winds of Northrend, and her eyes burned with icy fury.
The room fell silent for a moment. Deren looked out the window and saw the Ranger General, consumed by vengeful rage. He knew he had to find a way to ensure her safety as she wreaked havoc in Northrend. Why did his head ache so much?!
First update.