Early the next morning, after saying goodbye to her childhood friend Arthas, Jaina mounted a Gryphon and hurried toward Dalaran. She had to tell her teacher about this as soon as possible.
There had been no civil war among the humans for a thousand years. If negotiations between the various parties failed to resolve this, it would undoubtedly become a crisis of enormous proportions.
She also understood why Menethil had entrusted this task to her. First, as Archmage Anthony's student, her words carried credibility. Second, having a princess from another kingdom step forward would show that this was not a problem affecting Lordaeron alone.
Jaina had no intention of resisting the arrangement. The Seven Kingdoms all followed the same system of government. If the nobles of Lordaeron could not accept something, then neither could those of Kul Tiras.
Just what kind of organization is this? Jaina wondered as she rode on the Gryphon's back. According to the intelligence Uncle Menethil had provided, this organization had practically bewitched most of the common people, making them refuse to accept the kingdom's rule.
But why had those commoners stopped accepting the kingdom's rule? Jaina had spent all night thinking about it without finding an answer. It seemed she would have to ask her teacher more questions once she returned. She was still so ignorant.
What Jaina did not know was that, after she left Lordaeron, Menethil-who had thought the situation would ease for the time being-received news of another major incident that gave him a splitting headache.
In Stratholme, an important city in Lordaeron, the common people had suddenly contracted a strange illness overnight. Countless people had been infected with a plague, and large-scale riots were now breaking out in the city. How could Menethil not have a headache? The matter of the