Nothing that had happened on Draenor could affect Azeroth yet, and no one would concern themselves with the chaotic lives of a group of prisoners.
Azeroth had troubles of its own.
The aftermath of the 8-Day War had yet to fade. N'Zoth's meddling had left the entire world in chaos, and war could break out between the Alliance and the Horde at any moment. Beneath the hatred that had gradually begun to fade, fresh blood once again awakened the fear in people's hearts. That fear of being killed, of being destroyed, drove them to kill their opponents first-and their opponents thought the same way.
This intense psychological pressure left the leaders on both sides miserable. As Daelin had said, things had reached a point where no word from any one person, or any one group, could resolve them. The shadow of war had never loomed so close to this world.
Yet it could never quite reach this world, because a third party had forcibly halted the march toward war. Everyone knew perfectly well that the 8-Day War had not stopped because of the kings' orders. The Iron Giants and the Valarjar had joined the battlefield, using power that did not belong to the mortal world to forcibly end everything that should never have happened in the first place.
There was no concealing that truth. Every soldier on the battlefields had seen those beings ten thousand times more powerful than mortals. Some devout soldiers believed they were a manifestation of the gods' wrath, and the Guardians' descent from the heavens only lent those rumors greater weight.
"It was the gods who ended the war!"
And so everyone said.
Though the leaders knew the truth, they merely remained silent. Every faction did the same... After all, only gods on high would not