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Lordaeron


The Archbishop frowns at King Menethil, but steps aside. It is clear that he recognizes his place, despite his power. Or so it seems. His eyes narrow.

Sherman nods at you in affirmation. Though he is no fan of cultists, he seems to respect your apparent mercy.

The leader of the villagers sighs and looks to his comrades. One of them lands him a punch before being restrained by the guards. "Tell him nothing, Henrick!"

Henrick shrugs. "My king, we were not involved in any pagan worship. However, we are agents of the People's Front. Maximus Krowl promised to liberate us within a year, and that we would find a rich place in his new kingdom for our cooperation. But we have no choice. Your taxes are too high, and witch hunters run rampant in this kingdom, murdering anyone who steps out of line. They must be stopped."

Henrick points an accusing finger at the Archbishop. "That man is behind it!" he fails. "His Witch Hunters answer to him and his Church of the Holy Light! The Church in northern Tirisfal is the centre of his mad inquisition! Freedom or paganism, it matters not. My king, you must save us!"

---

Kul Tiras


The assassin spits in Thaumas' face. "Your father will be the doom of us all!" he yells.

Phorcys shakes his head and sighs. "My son, you must be strong. There are more who support your choices than there are those who are against you. You have an armada at your command, and I have the power to call our god to assist us. Mnesthes ftang. Mark those words. They are the key. With them we can enslave creatures of water, of sky. Admiral Janus will strike at Drisburg, I am sure of this."

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