ANOTHER MONTH LATER - SHADOWFANG KEEP

Returning to Shadowfang Keep, the dreadlord began his investigation of the Scythe. More than once the demon cursed the fact that Arugal's notes had been pilfered during the keep's cleansing.

Various queries to contacts around the Eastern Kingdoms had revealed the weapon's identity. The Scythe of Elune.

But little information was to be had besides the name with bore the name of the goddess worshipped by the Night Elves. Which left Mal'Ganis at a dead end unless he wanted to infiltrate Darnassus.

He'd also received reports that the Horde and Alliance factions had successfully defended their capital's. And also that they were working together to combat a floating Scourge citadel, which soured his mood, but the dreadlord wouldn't interfere this time.

Improved Horde/ Alliance relations were not in the Legion's best interest, but Mal'Ganis needed time for his grand task. Time he would not have if the Scourge absorbed the forces arrayed against it due to his sabotage.

So he had returned to his experiments with great zeal. By completely starting over. And he had gotten far better results the second time. All thanks to his newly obtained variable.

Not perfect results, as he had discovered that artifact's powerful emanating presence was tied to the waxing and waning of the moon. And a dark moon was the same as not having the Scythe at all.

But the participants were far more docile this second time around besides that one instance.

The worgen would obey simple commands with Scythe in hand, but the farther a wolfman strayed from the artifact's presence the easier they fell to distraction. Except for the full moon, where they stayed lucid throughout the night. But besides that, long term plans weren't feasible with the worgen.

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That didn't mean they were useless though. Far from it.

Mal'Ganis now had the means to direct the worgen, and knew when to attack, which was one step closer to accomplishing the Burning Legion's goal.

If he had an army of them that was. And he knew the perfect place to acquire that army. It seemed he had a new destination for the foreseeable future and it was practically over the next hill.

Gilneas... where his future army was a howling.

LIGHTS HOPE CHAPEL

The air was thick with the smell of smoke and ash, but there was a sense of jubilation in the air.

The Horde and Alliance forces had come together, putting aside their differences to face the common enemy - the Scourge. After a long, grueling battle, they had finally emerged victorious, with Kel'Thuzad vanquished and the floating Scourge citadel, Naxxramas, driven back.

Messengers carrying satchels of reports were filled with both jubilation and disappointment as they flew off. Jubilation over the uplifting of spirits their news would bring, disappointment that they'd miss the party.

As the sun began to set on the horizon, the combined surviving forces of the Horde and Alliance gathered at Light's Hope Chapel to celebrate their hard-fought victory.

The air filled with the sounds of cheering, laughter, fireworks, and piccolo's as the soldiers, weary from battle, let their guards down and reveled in their triumph.

The smell of roasted meat wafted freely as soldiers grilled food on makeshift barbecues, and kegs of ale were tapped and passed around freely.

In the center of the courtyard, a large bonfire blazed, its flames reaching high into the night sky. As the evening wore on, the inebriated began to dance freely around the fire, with zero regard for safety.

Despite the war that raged on between the factions, there was a sense of camaraderie and respect among the soldiers. They had fought side by side and shed blood together, and for this moment, they were just brothers and sisters in arms.

Amongst it all, there was a man who felt the greatest sense of accomplishment. Father Inigo Montoy of the Argent Dawn's chapel. He had been entrusted with handling the phylactery of Kel'Thuzad. It was a great honor and he would not fail.

As the night grew late, soldiers began to retire to their makeshift tents and bedrolls, exhaustion finally catching up to them. But even as they slept, the memory of their hard-fought victory lingered, a beacon of hope in a world torn apart by war.

Father Inigo Montoy contentedly watched over them all with a great big smile.