The Silvermoon Council's reinforcements had arrived right on time, but it was not the soldiers' valiant fighting on the front lines that truly brought the war to an end.
The emergence of the Scourge had disrupted the Troll World Council's plans for the war ahead.
Two months had passed since the fighting at Drak'Tharon, yet the horrors of that battlefield remained vivid.
Talanji could not forget that tide of undead troops. Their suffocating pressure and the helplessness they inspired could not only destroy a tribe's military strength, but also drive an entire race to extinction.
The Troll World Council could exploit the chaos, reaping benefits while the Alliance fought the Scourge army.
But under no circumstances could Talanji stand by and watch the Scourge rise. Once undead creatures occupied the Eastern Kingdoms and a frozen world of death engulfed the continent, how could Zandalar remain untouched?
Since Rowan had laid his cards on the table, Talanji had no reason to hide anything either. This had always been her bargaining chip and her bottom line in negotiating with Rowan after her capture.
"Zandalar is willing to form an alliance and fight our common enemy. But we have conditions." Talanji preferred to get the unpleasant details out of the way first. She was straightforward by nature, and even at a disadvantage in these negotiations, she disliked concealing her intentions.
Rowan and Talanji had been trading barbs for seven or eight hours. After arguing for so long, there was little point in continuing the battle of words.
"Go ahead." Rowan displayed the gentlemanly manners of a noble, nodding as he settled down to listen.
The conditions were actually quite simple. Zandalar lay in the Great Sea, its kingdom occupying an island continent.
Judging by the Scourge's current advance, the undead army from northern