Malfurion had succeeded before. He had become a hero of the Night Elves, established his own Druid Regime, and earned the reverence of the masses. Every race regarded him as the savior of Azeroth.
Illidan, however, had failed. The New Well of Eternity had become the World Tree. He had understood that his cause was lost. Utterly disheartened, he had stopped running and stopped thinking about the Well of Eternity. He had become a betrayer, condemned by all, and simply surrendered.
The changes in Illidan's thinking over ten thousand years had been less than those brought about by these past few decades. Patrick was the root of it all. First, he had used a string of schemes to outmaneuver Kil'jaeden, then helped Illidan build the Kingdom of the Highborne. Though the road ahead was long and the outcome unknowable, at least Illidan had hope. He could already see the possibility of his ideals becoming reality. There was also a woman who had watched over him for ten thousand years and even followed him to Outland.
Now, Illidan stood on this frozen land once again. This time, however, he had not come on Kil'jaeden's orders, but for himself, for his Kingdom, and to prove to everyone that what he had done was not wrong.
Although the war had brought one victory after another, Tirion still had some concerns. "The environment here is extremely unfavorable to our troops. Snowbound mountains, plague-filled air, dark skies-both logistical support and fighting conditions work against us."
The living were different from the dead, after all. Hypothermia and plague could kill, and ordinary soldiers needed rest and time to recover their strength. In this environment, the troops' losses would be several times higher than usual, if not more. They also had to face an Undead army that