The Lich Gate (Orgrimmar)

We never realized how easy it was to blame the Lich Gate on the Lich King's masterful manipulation, the weak Putress, or the treacherous Kel'Thuzad. But whenever someone mentions the Lich Gate, trying to comfort me by turning bitterness into sweetness, everything inside me screams in opposition to those statements.

I wasn't there, so I can't explain why I feel such guilt. Perhaps it's because I believe none of them should have died that way. The facts speak for themselves; that feeling is so strong. Perhaps it's because my respect for heroism is so deeply ingrained.

Maybe.

Or perhaps I just feel that those people could have killed more Scourge Warrior, and that they should have been of greater value.

Yes, they still have value. I'd rather think that way.

Orgrimmar

Eitrigg entered the Chieftain's Compound with a heavy heart. The Kor'kron guards in the corridors, entrances, and passageways remained loyal and watchful. Perhaps having heard about what happened at the Lich Gate, they were more vigilant than ever, carefully guarding against anyone who approached, even those they knew.

An elderly Orcs with graying hair entered the hall where Thrall was, under the watchful eyes of two Kor'kron guards. The warmth of the brazier offered no reassurance, as if the flames themselves were burning on their bodies.

Thrall looked up slightly and saw it was Eitrigg. Before the other could speak, he spoke first, "I asked Saurfang to come back, but he refused. He said he wanted to find his son's body."

Eitrigg was surprised that Thrall could remain calm at this moment, but after noticing that a piece was missing from the armrest of the chieftain's chair, he concluded that Thrall had simply vented his anger. "Perhaps he's more interested in finding the Forsaken."

The chief shook his head. "I cannot agree with you, advisor. How are the people? What about the other Horde? What are they thinking?"

"Vol'jin said everything is pending investigation, and all his most capable Shadow Hunter have been sent to Northrend to search for the Forsaken. The Tauren High Chieftain mourned the warriors who died at the Lich Gate and also vowed to severely punish the murderers."

"It sounds like Cairne's words are more likely to calm the people's anger." Thrall nodded, though he knew it was only temporary.

"Great Chief, I have an idea..."

Tell me about it.

"We cannot rule out the possibility that the Lich Gate is a conspiracy by the Lich King. Perhaps he wants to target the Alliance. The Forsaken, an organization that has never existed, may be a fabrication by the Scourge. Since we have nowhere to look for them, we might assume that the people who attacked Dranosh Saurfang are hiding in the Alliance cities."

Thrall sat on his throne, glancing at Eitrigg for a few seconds. He couldn't deny what the advisor had said, and in fact, he shared a thought that coincided with Eitrigg's: the Forsaken were indeed hiding in the Alliance cities, obeying the King's orders. But Thrall quickly dismissed this assessment. The Alliance couldn't be entirely trusted, but at least they wouldn't risk their soldiers' lives. Thrall had heard that Stormwind City had lost a regent in this battle.

"You have a point, Eitrigg. This might be a conspiracy. But we shouldn't speculate before all the answers are revealed. The enemy is still the Lich King. Let's wait for news from Vol'jin and see if he can find any clues."

Orgrimmar, the Lower City

Ux the Bloodspeaker slipped into the dark-skinned Goblins's house; for Stealth like him, avoiding everyone's sight was not difficult.

"You didn't forge any iron today?" The Orcs frowned as he looked at the short man dozing on the haystack.

The Goblins rubbed his eyes, recognized who it was, and said, "We're out of stock. All the iron in Orgrimmar has been sent to Northrend."

"I was just about to tell you about that place."

"The Lich Gate?"

Ux nodded.

"You'd better know one thing, Bloodspeaker: There is no plague in the master's kingdom."

"These words will not satisfy the spies in other parts of the city. They desperately need an explanation, an explanation from the Lord of the Forsaken."

The Goblins stared coldly at Ux. The Orcs was startled; this was definitely not the look of a Goblins.

Warning and suspicion, Ux saw in those large eyes, but he was convinced that something even more terrifying was hidden within them.

"Keep the spies quiet, and the truth will surely come out." The Goblins lay back down on the haystack, continuing to enjoy his leisurely time.

"If it really was the Witherer who did it, what would you do?" Ux the Bloodspeaker asked as he left. The answer he received was unexpectedly unsettling.

"My thoughts have never mattered, and I have no freedom of action. This is the Twelve Swords of Wither."

Northrend

Nathanos was supposed to return to the Vanguard Port, but instead he went to Belmont. While he was tasked with monitoring the Lich Gate 'Shadowblade every move, he also went to search for traces of Arthas's first visit to Northrend.

They finally met at the Garon's Tomb.

"Owner?"

The tomb was so magnificent that Nathanos was momentarily lost in thought, but Belmont brought him back to his senses.

"I've been to the Lich Gate."

"So what should we do?" Belmont asked.

"There are only two ways to deal with this." Nathanos had already thought of this on his way here, and he couldn't find a third option. "The first is a complete withdrawal. The Forsaken should cancel all their operations in Northrend and return to Maraudon and their various strongholds. As long as we weather the storm, the Alliance and the Horde will once again turn their attention to Arthas."

"I personally oppose this proposal, Master," Belmont said passionately, kneeling on the snow and looking up at the Witherer. "The Forsaken have waited far too long for this day to bring judgment upon Arthas. You cannot let them down. Besides, the Forsaken are long dead; their only desire now is revenge."

For a fleeting moment, Nathanos felt his brows furrow, a terrifying expression forming on his face, and he almost roared out—"So they want to destroy themselves? Do they want to rot in the earth?"

Anger gleamed in the Witherer's eyes, but he closed them before Belmont noticed. On the way here, he had roughly anticipated Belmont's reaction; if even someone who was usually absolutely obedient to him objected, then others were even less likely to. Nathanos could only laugh at himself for still harboring such wishful thinking.

He hissed, "Then there's only the second option. Although I'm not sure if the Forsaken are ready, the truth can't be hidden any longer. We need to make our existence known to the world."

"That would inevitably provoke the wrath of the Alliance and the Horde." Belmont cursed himself inwardly after saying this. He had never doubted his master's decisions, but today, he had made an exception twice.

"In fact, I also intend to do that. It's a risky move. We have to do it to give an explanation to the spies hidden in various places." Nathanos's gaze was fixed on the Garon's Tomb. "We need to win the support of neutral forces first, such as the Argent Dawn and the Knights of the Ebon Blade, as well as all the natives in the Northrend Continent who need help. Then we will try to ease relations with the Alliance and the Horde. However, this will be very difficult."

Belmont blinked, Nathanos thought he was about to ask some strange question, but the opposite happened. "I have a way to gain the Alliance's trust, Master."

"You'd better not joke around, Belmont. What's your plan?"

"You asked us to find the traces Arthas left when he first came to Northrend. We actually found them, or rather, we found a cave that hides some unknown secrets."