Draenei

"Your Majesty, please forgive me." Lescova bowed. "I was merely having a pleasant debate with your loyal followers."

Varian walked straight toward the Duke, stopping just before he bumped into him. The two stood almost face to face; the King's voice was not loud, but his authority was unmistakable.

"While you were holed up in your villa counting your money, I had already rescued my son from the dragon's lair." Varian's eyes swept over the others present, looking for anyone who dared to challenge his authority. "While I was achieving victory after victory in the arena, many of you were still plotting how to seize more power from my son!"

The nobles became restless and dared not utter a sound.

Varian turned to Lescova and said, "So, what exactly did you come to from this so-called pleasant debate?"

A deathly silence.

The rage of the Ghost Wolf burned in Varian's eyes, like embers after a raging fire, dispelling the shadows of the night.

At this point, no one said anything more. The nobles lowered their heads like children who had made a mistake, but Varian showed no sign of stopping.

"Some say I'm a beast. Perhaps I truly am. Which of you is willing to witness Lo'gosh's wrath? And who is willing to bear the same scars as me!"

After Varian finished venting his anger, he looked around and saw that besides the nobles of Stormwind City, there were also representatives of the Dwarf and the Night Elf. Of course, he also saw Jaina, and the two most unusual figures in the hall: Sylvanas and the Draenei. When he saw Sylvanas, his eyes did not flash with anger; instead, he focused more of his attention on the outsider.

He returned to his throne and ordered the nobles to withdraw.

The terrified crowd dispersed, filled with fear of the future and their human leader. Those who remained looked at Varian with worry.

"Come forward, outsider." Varian's voice echoed around him, completely ignoring the presence of the Night Elf and directly commanding the Draenei who was even taller than him.

The Draenei and his Night Elf companion exchanged a glance, the latter nodding before stepping closer to Varian's throne. He then clasped his hands in a fist salute—their custom of greeting.

"Your name, and the purpose of your visit to Stormwind City." Varian rested one hand on the side of the throne, awaiting the Draenei's reply.

Upon seeing this, the Night Elf representative stepped forward. Sylvanas suddenly took notice of this Elf; previously, all her attention had been focused on the Draenei, neglecting another presence. This Night Elf also appeared to be a Ranger, with dark blue hair and red markings running from her eyes upwards and downwards.

She walked to the Draenei and translated Draenei 'Varian words into a language none of the others had ever heard. The Draenei times and spoke to Varian in the same language.

"Please allow me to convey his message, Your Majesty, our Draenei friend is not yet familiar with our language."

"Speak, General Shandris."

Shandris Feathermoon coughed and said, "Your Majesty, my name is Malkorath, the Draenei garrison commander, and the special envoy of Prophet Velen. The Draenei have come to Stormwind City at the invitation of our Night Elf friends, hoping to gain your approval and join the Alliance."

"As early as when your ship arrived in Azeroth ..." Varian said, while Shandris translated for Malkorath to save time. "The Alliance took notice of you. You truly surprise me, Malkorath. I can sense the power of the Holy Light within you. There aren't many Paladin within the Alliance. But what I want to know is, why do you want to join the Alliance? Are you facing some calamity? Or do you have some enemy who urgently needs the Alliance's help?"

Upon hearing this, Malkorath's tone suddenly rose considerably; he pounded his chest and spoke with great fervor. Sylvanas noticed that Shandris frowned after hearing his words.

"Draenei means 'Outcasts' in our language, Your Majesty. Our world has been conquered by the Burning Legion, and the Legion has not ceased its pursuit of the Draenei." Shandris paused, taking a deep breath. "We have been on the run for centuries, and we once built a magnificent civilization in the Orcs world, only to have the Orcs destroy our cities and slaughter our people..."

Varian abruptly stood up, glaring at Malkorath. Not only him, but even Jaina and Sylvanas were stunned by his words. The ruler of Theramore looked at Varian with concern; Stormwind City had suffered a similar fate, and whenever it was mentioned, a primal rage would surge in the King's heart. But now, Varian's eyes held no anger, only compassion. He saw himself; he too had left his homeland with Lothar, receiving help from King Terenas.

The current situation is so similar to that of many years ago.

Shandris hadn't finished speaking, this time still using Malkorath's tone, "We didn't come with hatred, nor did we intend to make the Orcs pay for their crimes. We only hope to establish our own home in this world. Of course, we will also protect this world. The long period of exile has exhausted us, and we are tired of running away. Our Night Elf friends have told us a lot about the Alliance, especially your glorious deeds in defeating the Burning Legion. Prophet Velen was very shocked by this, and he firmly believes that the fate of the Draenei will be changed by the Alliance."

"Your prophet is wise." Varian approached Malkorath. "The Alliance is also in dire need of new allies, but the matter of joining the Alliance can only be finalized after I personally meet with your leader. In any case..." The King returned to his throne, turned, and said the last seven words, "The Alliance welcomes the Draenei."

When the news came from the King of Stormwind, Maldra and Shandris laughed simultaneously. Even without a translator, the Paladin understood the meaning.

Varian nodded and returned to his throne. After Malkorath withdrew, he turned his attention to the other side. Sylvanas instantly felt an invisible pressure.

"Jaina, do you and your Elf friend have anything to say to each other?"

"We are here simply to state our position." Jaina Proudmoore stepped forward and bowed to Varian. "Theramore is aware of the anomalies in the Blasted Lands, and whatever decision the Alliance makes, Theramore will support it."

Varian looked at the mage, his mind churning with uncertain thoughts. He wondered if Jaina had made the same promise to the Horde, or if the mage had come here to bring the Alliance and the Horde together to face the threat of the Blasted Lands.

"I just want to know the Horde's plans."

While the King and the mage were talking, Shandris explained their conversation to Malkorath. When Varian mentioned the Horde, the Paladin's face immediately showed hatred and anger.

"You must have spoken with Thrall already."

Jaina sighed, her heart pounding and her face pale, but Varian's gaze still pressed her for an answer.

"The Horde's army will arrive at Grom'gol Base Camp in Stranglethorn Vale in a week. It's a huge army, and they're going to open the Dark Portal. Warchief Thrall might even go to the battlefield in person."

The hall fell silent, startled by the loud voice. Sylvanas patted Jaina on the shoulder from behind, signaling the mage to take over and leave everything to her. Although she didn't feel she could be of much help, she still spoke up for Jaina: "Any further questions, Your King?"

No one had ever asked Varian such a question. The thought crossed the minds of Shandris, Jaina, and everyone present who knew Varian.

The King's expression turned serious, and after a while, he reluctantly nodded in acceptance.

"Theramore's support is important, but it needs to be put into practice," the man on the throne concluded.

As Jaina and Sylvanas prepared to leave, Varian asked one last question, "Tell me, Jaina, can you guarantee that the Horde's army marching into Stranglethorn Vale is intended for the Blasted Lands, right?"

Jaina felt a chill run down her spine. She turned around and nodded firmly, saying, "Of course, Your Majesty. Thrall always keeps his word, and he's eager to see what the Orcs world is like." She bowed again and withdrew with Sylvanas, leaving Varian alone in the throne room, accompanied only by the Lion Throne, the symbol of the King.