UNDERCITY

In the dark bowels of Undercity, Lady Sylvanas coldly stalked its corridors with her attendants as she weighed her options.

The Forsaken Queen had received a letter from Lord Maxwell of the Argent Dawn a few days earlier. Which frankly laid out the Argent Dawn's loss of Kel'Thuzad's phylactery due to treachery within their ranks.

She had been disgusted. All the effort to drive back the Scourge, yet true victory was thwarted by incompetent allies. The Dawn's reputation for reliability would have to be judged more harshly, in her opinion, if they were to fight together again in the future. With more concessions in the Horde's favor.

But ultimately, it just meant there was one more lich to be dealt with come time for Northrend.

The letter had also detailed the Argent Dawn's plan to sweep the Plaguelands of its shambling dead... and asking for their aid.

The plan had merit, she had to admit, even considering the boldness in asking for aid despite their incredible blunder. But generally the Dawn could be trusted to kill undead. And there a lot of undead to kill.

A few of the forsaken strategists had been called in to a meeting to draw up the plans for assisting the Argent Dawn. Sylvanas was certain that the Warchief would agree to the goal of clearing out potential enemy forces in her place.

She also thought it would be a good use of the Horde forces still resting in her territory following the battles in Naxxramas.

At least, up until hours later, when Sylvanas received a report from her champion stationed within the Eastern Plaguelands. Revealing that their had been communications between the Argent Dawn and Scarlet Crusade at Tyr's Hand. And that when the Argent Dawn had departed Light's Hope in force, the Crusaders had marched out of Tyr's Hand at the same time.

Meaning they were working together.

Which changed the situation drastically as far as the Banshee Queen was concerned.

The Scarlet Crusade were fanatics devoted to killing undead. And in their eyes, the Forsaken were no different from the Scourge. Nor was the Horde any better having accepted the Forsaken into their ranks.

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Which left Sylvanas no choice, but to reassess her plans. For she couldn't imagine the zealous crusaders being willing to differentiate her troops from their foe.

Meaning it was too risky to help the Argent Dawn in this endeavor.

That was her final conclusion.

Returning to her throne room, Sylvanas met with her strategists once more. Instead of sending troops into a potential meatgrinder, she would focus on fortifying the Bulwark.

For if the undead were truly purged within the Plaguelands, she knew the Scarlet Crusade would shift their focus to the Forsaken as the next target.

ORGRIMMAR

Thrall, son of Durotan and Warchief of the Horde, sat in his Great Hall while digesting the most recent bundle of reports from Sylvanas. Containing the letter from Lord Maxwell, leader of the Argent Dawn, and Sylvanas's actions taken after receiving the same letter.

The deep growl of anger when he learned of Kel'Thuzad's survival had alarmed his guards before he had waved them off for some privacy.

And despite the grand opportunity offered by the Argent Dawn, Thrall couldn't disagree with the Forsaken queen's decision to prioritise her own people. Nor could he completely trust the Argent Dawn after their failure.

So given her options, he approved Sylvanas's bolstering of the Bulwark. Defending what was yours wasn't a waste of resources.

However, he now had to contemplate the repercussions of not helping the Dawn.

The warchief sighed wearily as he broke out the ink and papers. He dearly missed the simpler days when he could solve his problems with a his hammer.

STORMWIND

The skies were a foreboding grey as heavy raindrops pelted the cobblestone streets of Stormwind.

Normally bustling streets were empty, as residents sought refuge indoors. Those brave enough to venture out fought against the driving rain.

Howling wind raced through the alleys, causing shutters to rattle and flags to snap back and forth. Thunder echoed across the city, shaking the very foundations of the buildings.

Dry inside Stormwind Keep, Bolvar Fordragon, High Regent of the Kingdom, slammed his desk with both fists to relieve some anger. It didn't bring any satisfaction though, as the action was drowned out by a clap of thunder.

Dissatisfied, but unwilling to repeat himself, he leaned back and let the fury and disbelief drain away like the roaring rain.

Lord Maxwell certainly hadn't held anything back in his report detailing his failure.

The Argent Dawn, infiltrated by the Cult of the Damned. The lich's phylactery missing! Why hadn't the damned thing been destroyed the moment it was handed over?

And then to request additional reinforcement as boldly as they had, it boggled the mind. Even worse! Bolvar couldn't even say no. The plan made too much sense, to diminish the undead available for the Scourge's next assault.

He took in a deep breath and tried to look on the bright side, even as he started penning up new deployment orders.

It would work out in the Alliance's favor in the longterm. Reducing the enemies at home before the invasion was a plus. That, and the fact a few battles against mindless undead would sharpen up the new recruits!