Alone

"That was a truly thrilling conversation," Jaina said to the Ranger who were hanging up their cloaks, as they sat in their respective rooms in Stormwind City.

Sylvanas turned and smiled. "Did I scare you, or Varian?"

"Of course it's you." Jaina smiled bitterly. "You're really bold. This time we're not in Theramore, but in Stormwind City. If Varian gets angry, you'll already be in jail."

Sylvanas sat down next to the mage and took a cup of tea. "He won't do that. If he ordered my arrest in front of his new Draenei ally, it would leave a very bad impression."

"So you had it all planned out all along, but you didn't tell me," Jaina complained. She'd been worried for quite a while, and when Sylvanas finally spoke, she felt like her blood was freezing.

"It was just a spur-of-the-moment decision." The Female Elf took a sip of tea. Her relaxed demeanor left Jaina feeling quite helpless. The blonde girl really wanted to know what factors made Sylvanas so fearless and indifferent to everything.

"But then again, what Varian said today has changed my attitude toward him."

"Oh?" Jaina looked at the Elf beside her in confusion.

"I used to think he was an impulsive guy who would only use force to solve any problem, but his words before the throne today have fully revealed his political acumen." Sylvanas gestured as she carefully chose her words. "He said that support for Theramore should be translated into concrete actions."

"What's the problem?" Jaina thought for a moment. "The contribution of Theramore to the Alliance is certainly not as simple as a few words. I have already expedited the preparation of supplies, which will be transported to Stormwind City soon."

"Supplies alone are probably not enough."

Jaina waved her hand, thinking that Sylvanas was overthinking things. "Varian wouldn't care about Theramore's insignificant military strength. Besides, he didn't ask me to send troops to the Blasted Lands, did he?"

"Dwarf, Night Elf, even Gnome, and possibly Draenei —almost every faction within the Alliance will send troops to the Blasted Lands. If Theramore stays out of it, it might give others something to talk about."

Jaina paused, lost in thought. "You make a good point, but I don't want the people of Theramore to venture into another world. Protecting them is more important than anything else. If anyone has something to say, let them say it."

"That would be very detrimental to your future diplomatic efforts, Jaina." Sylvanas emptied her glass in one gulp. "You can't afford to lose the trust of your Alliance members. The best way to avoid that is for you to send some people to the Blasted Lands to fight as well."

"But I don't want to..." Jaina paused, seeing Sylvanas smiling at her. Combining the Female Elf's words with her own, she suddenly understood the deeper meaning. "Sylvanas, you don't actually intend to go to the Blasted Lands alone, do you?"

The Female Elf gave the response Jaina least wanted to hear—she nodded, "Yes."

"I disagree!" Jaina left the cushioned chair and walked alone to the window, her back to Sylvanas, as if to tell her that there was no room for negotiation.

"Don't say that, Jaina," Sylvanas followed and said softly, "This is what I want to do, not because of pressure from the Alliance."

"But you don't have to do this."

The Female Elf took Jaina's hand, a simple and unintentional gesture that caught Jaina off guard. "I have to do this. I've been in Theramore for a while now, and I haven't brought any benefits to your city yet. I want to use my abilities to earn Theramore's respect, and this is also for my own sake. Only through merit can I gain a foothold in the Alliance."

Jaina's heart softened slightly under Sylvanas's gaze, but she continued, "Is a person's worth measured by how many enemies they can kill on the battlefield?" She tried to return a fierce look to make Sylvanas back down, but the approachable Lady Proudmoore never pressured anyone. "I hope you'll even consider it."

"No need to consider it." Sylvanas shook her head; she had made up her mind, and was stubbornly unchangeable. "Just me."

There's an unspoken axiom in Dun Morogh: the higher you climb, the less you fear being buried by snow. Inside the Ironforge, those with a bit of money frequent the Stonefire Tavern in the civilian quarter, indulging in fine wines and revelry. Smoked, soldiers return to their posts, while explorers find a corner to snore, preparing for their next perilous journey.

Gudul wasn't so lucky when he arrived at the Stonefire Tavern; there was a fight going on. But that was normal; those Dwarf always seemed to have endless energy after drinking.

Nathanos's childhood mentor walked through the shouting crowd, taking five minutes to reach the bar.

"Lagre Liquor." Gudul handed the shopkeeper the exact amount of money, and soon a bottle of spirits and a roughly made wooden cup were placed in front of him. But the Dwarf didn't drink it right away. He waited, waiting for the Dwarf two seats away to finish his drink.

That was the last glass of wine poured from the other person's bottle.

Just as Gudul had expected, when the Dwarf sucked the last drop of liquor from his beard, he showed a dissatisfied expression; clearly, the liquor in his blood wasn't enough to make him drunk. But his purse was empty. Before he could loudly complain to the innkeeper, Gudul preemptively slid his own spirits down the drain.

"Drink this, my friend."

"Lagre Liquor!" The Dwarf's eyes lit up. Without even looking at who was speaking, he ripped off the bottle cap and gulped down the liquid, most of it disappearing instantly. He let out a burp before turning to Gudul. "Thank you for the spirits, my friend."

"It's alright, if you like, we can drink together. I have a lot of money, which means I can have more Lagre Liquor."

"And Ford Special Brew," the Dwarf chuckled loudly.

"Yes, Ford Special Brew." Gudul nodded, his gaze never leaving the Dwarf was already half-drunk.

Why are you looking at me like that?

"It's nothing, I just think you look familiar, I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." Gudul pretended to think carefully. "You are...you seem to have served in the army of Turalyon."

"That was many years ago. I've retired now, and the tavern is where my soul truly rests." The Dwarf downed Gudul's drink in one gulp. Before that, Gudul had already placed another bottle of fine wine in front of him.

"I don't know your name yet."

"My name is Sherdu, a veteran of the expedition to Draenor, later served in the artillery battalion, and now I'm an old drunkard."

Upon hearing this, Gudul smiled and said, "Could you tell me... your story?"