Now, however, they were all attention.

"We have done as you asked," Kel'Thuzad complained. "Now tell us what has happened!"

"What do you want to know?" Khadgar asked the older mage.

"Everything!" And from the look in his eyes, Kel'Thuzad meant it. He had always had a reputation as a dreamer and a researcher, constantly questing for information, particularly about magic, its sources, and its potential. Of all the Kirin Tor he had been the one most interested in gaining access to Medivh's arcane library, and Khadgar assumed one of the ones most upset about its destruction. He had not bothered to mention that he had taken the choicest tomes for himself before vacating the tower.

"Very well." And so he told them. Gratefully accepting a chair the pudgy man offered, Khadgar sat and described everything that had happened since he had left Dalaran more than two years before. He told them about his strange apprenticeship with Medivh, about the master wizard's mercurial moods and strange disappearances. He told them about the first encounters with the orcs. He told them about the wizard murders. He told them about Medivh's betrayal, and about how he and Lothar had ended the wizard's life. Then he went on to talk about the Horde and the battles that had occurred, about the siege of Stormwind, Llane's death, the city's conquest, and their subsequent flight.

The master magi remained quiet for much of the recitation. Occasionally one would ask a question, but they showed surprising consideration for someone so much their junior, and the few questions they did ask were short and to the point. When he had finished, ending with the Alliance and the Paladins, Khadgar leaned back to catch his breath and waited to see what the magi might ask next.

"You did not mention the Order of Tirisfal," Kel'Thuzad pointed out, eliciting a sharp cough from Antonidas. "What?" the mage—researcher demanded. "It is relevant, when discussing Medivh!"

"It is," Khadgar answered, "and I apologize for my lapse. But" — he glanced around, trying to judge the magi's knowledge by their faces, and opted for discretion—"I know little of the Order's true workings. Medivh was a member, and spoke once or twice of the Order's existence, but he did not name any other members or discuss its activities."

"Of course," the woman agreed, and Khadgar saw the look of frustration and disappointment she and Kel'Thuzad exchanged. He had been right then, he realized. They knew nothing about the Order, and had merely hoped to trick him into revealing its secrets. That had failed and they would not press the issue. "But I am more concerned with Medivh himself, and with what happened to him," she continued. "You are certain it was Sargeras you saw within him?"

"Absolutely." Khadgar leaned forward. "I had already seen the titan in a vision, and recognized him at once."

"So it was Medivh—or Sargeras through him—who opened a rift for the orcs," the pudgy man mused. "And what did you say their world was called?"

"Draenor," Khadgar answered, shuddering slightly. His mind flashed back to another vision from Medivh's tower, that of himself as an old man—or at least, looking as he did now—leading a small force of warriors against a multitude of orcs. On a world with a blood—red sky. Garona had told him it sounded like Draenor, which meant he was destined to go there. And most likely not survive. He forced himself back to the conversation before him.

"What do we know of it?" Krasus was asking. "This world? You've told us of the sky, but can you tell us anything else?"

"I haven't been there myself," Khadgar replied, thinking at least not yet. "But a companion, a half—orc, told me a great deal about the world and about the orcs." He could see Garona in his mind's eye, and quickly turned away from that painful memory as well. "The orcs were considerably more peaceful at home—they squabbled but didn't fight one another. Their only real enemies were the ogres, and orcs are far smarter and considerably more numerous."

"What happened?" Kel'Thuzad asked.

"They were corrupted," Khadgar explained. "She didn't know all the details—the why and how of it—but gradually their skin changed from brown to green and they began practicing different magic from what they had known before. They turned more savage, more violent. There was a great ceremony and a chalice of some sort. The chieftains drank from it, and the warriors—most of them, anyway. Their skin changed to a vivid green then, and their eyes turned red. They grew more powerful, stronger and fiercer, and they all went blood—crazy. They killed any foe they encountered and then began turning on each other. Plus their magics had leeched the life from the soil and their crops would not grow. They were on the verge of killing themselves, or of dying from starvation. But Medivh approached Gul'dan, the Horde's chief warlock, and offered him access to this world. Our world. Gul'dan accepted and together they built the portal. They sent through a few clans at a time, and gradually increased their numbers. Then it was just a matter of waiting, building strength, scouting defenses, and finally attacking."

"And now we have them approaching us full force." Kael'thas frowned.

"Yes."

Khadgar waited, but no one else spoke and at last he stirred in his unseen chair. "If there is nothing more, noble gentlemen and lady, I will take my leave," he said. "It has been a long day and I am very tired."

"What are your plans now?" the woman asked him as he rose from his chair.

Khadgar frowned. He had been pondering the same question since their arrival in Lordaeron. A part of him wanted to beg the Kirin Tor for protection. Perhaps he could resume his old job as an assistant to the librarian? He would not cause any trouble, and he would be safe behind the strongest magical defenses in the world.

Another part of him, however, hated the idea of hiding from the upcoming conflict. He had faced a demon, after all! And he had survived. If he could handle that, surely he could handle an army of orcs.

Besides, friendship and respect still counted for something, at least to him.

"I will stand by Lord Lothar," Khadgar replied finally, deliberately keeping his voice casual. "I have promised him my support, and he richly deserves it. After the war, assuming we survive—" He shrugged.

"You are still a subject of Dalaran," the woman pointed out. "If we called you back here and assigned you necessary work, would you obey the summons?"

Khadgar thought about it for a few seconds. "No," he answered slowly. "I cannot return to that. After this war, if we survive, I will return to my studies, though whether I do that here or at Medivh's tower or at some other location is entirely uncertain."

The council members studied him and he them. It was Krasus who finally broke the silence. "You left here a mere boy, a fledgling apprentice," he said, and Khadgar could hear the approval in his voice. "But you have returned a master, and a man." Khadgar dipped his head to acknowledge the compliment but did not say anything.

"You will not be ordered to do anything," Antonidas assured him. "We shall respect your wishes, and your independence. Though we would like to be kept up—to—date, particularly for anything involving Medivh, the necromancers, the Order, and that portal."

Khadgar nodded. "Then I am free to go?"

That earned him a tight smile from Antonidas. "Yes, you may go," the archmage said. "May the Light protect you and grant you strength."

"Keep us informed," the pudgy man added. "The sooner we know what the orcs plan, the sooner we can send troops to that area, and of course we can provide magical assistance as well."

Khadgar nodded. "Of course." He left the room quickly, but as soon as the doors had shut he summoned a scrying sphere. The Kirin Tor met in a quiet room that he assumed had been magically shielded not only from attacks but also from prying eyes. But Khadgar had learned a great deal from Medivh during his short apprenticeship, and had learned more from the books he had appropriated after the master mage's death. He was also very close to his target subject. He concentrated, and the colors within the sphere swirled, from green to black and back again. Faces began to appear in the image, and a faint murmuring, and then he was looking at the Kirin Tor's council members in plain violet robes. Even the room's active mural had changed, slowing down and finally coming to a stop, leaving only a plain chamber with six people milling about.