Ever since arriving in Stormwind, Jess had never intended to go anywhere near the Redridge Mountains or the shores of Lake Everstill.

Three or four gnoll tribes, countless naga lurking beneath the lake, a black dragonflight that could arrive at any time, venomous spiders larger than cattle, and barren mountains occupied by several orcish legions—one wrong step could leave a person dead without ever knowing what had killed him.

Still, Redridge should not become like that until many years from now. At this point in time, the defeated orcish Horde had only just withdrawn into Blackrock Mountain and occupied part of the Dark Iron dwarves' surface city—Blackrock Spire. They should currently be fighting the Dark Irons for control of the mountain.

The Blackrock orcs would soon gain the upper hand, but not because they were more numerous or stronger. On the contrary, backed by their subterranean capital of Shadowforge City, the Dark Iron dwarves would continually launch fierce attacks against the invaders on the surface. Within a few short years, they would drive the orcish clan to the brink of destruction and stand on the verge of total victory.

That was when a group of uninvited guests would descend upon them. The black dragonflight, led by Nefarian, Deathwing's eldest son, would swoop into Blackrock Mountain and form an alliance with the orcs. They would quickly drive the dwarves back underground and take complete control of the mountain's surface, turning it into an orcish base.

Nefarian's goal was to find a new lair where he could nurture and expand the black dragonflight. Through that alliance, he would thoroughly enslave the orcs and turn the clan in Blackrock Spire into guardians of his lair.

The dwarves throughout the Burning Steppes would consequently lose the reinforcements coming from underground and suffer defeat after defeat beneath the orcs' attacks. The arrival of the black dragons meant that the Blackrock Clan under Nefarian's rule would soon control the vast mountains and scorched lands across northern Redridge, creating a standoff with the Kingdom of Stormwind.

When would the black dragons arrive? Now? Or... several years from now? Had it already happened?

It was Year Seven after the opening of the Dark Portal, and scarcely a year had passed since the Horde's current warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer, had been captured at the foot of Blackrock Spire. The conflict between the orcs and dwarves there should not yet have reached its fiercest point, so the black dragons probably had not arrived.

Jess answered cautiously, "The Blackrock orcs are probably gathering their forces. They took heavy losses from the Alliance armies in the Burning Steppes, so they won't recover anytime soon."

"Ha! They're far more aggressive than you imagine." Malin took a small sip of tea. "The Redridge garrison has already spotted them south of the region. Scouts from the Blackrock Clan... have begun reaching this way. According to our agents, the Blackrock orcs are fighting the dwarves all across the Burning Steppes for control of the land. Tell me, should we allow them into Redridge and let them fight the gnolls while the kingdom reaps the rewards?"

"The Blackrock orcs are more likely to cooperate with the gnolls," Jess said. "Two peoples fond of dark magic may find they have more in common. Besides, neither side can be foolish enough to slaughter each other just as we'd like while they still share a much stronger enemy."

Malin nodded. "That's certainly possible."

Then his nose twitched. "Why do I sense an ominous, decaying odor in the room? Did you bring it in?"

"What..." Jess sniffed himself. "I can't smell anything."

Malin came around the desk, leaned closer, and took a sniff. "Have you been near a graveyard or someplace like that?"

Now that Malin had noticed, Jess could hardly deny it. "Yes..."

"What were you doing in a graveyard? Do you have someone close to you buried in Stormwind?" Malin asked suspiciously. "Although if it were a relative, surely you wouldn't need to open the coffin to pay your respects."

"No," Jess said. "I went looking for Grave Moss."

"Ah, so that's it." Malin visibly relaxed. He picked up his teacup again and took a sip. "Trying to earn a little extra money? Is there still Grave Moss to gather nearby? I thought you had to travel to southern Elwynn to find any. Is that what you've been busy with these past few days?"

"I didn't find much," Jess said.

"An ordinary tomb won't grow Grave Moss," Malin said. "A knowledgeable herbalist would never crawl into every grave he encountered. It has to be a tomb deeply affected by necromantic energy... So I suspect the great cemetery to the south, which was caught in the eruption of dark power, may contain some. But don't even think of going there. Corpse poison is extremely troublesome."

"Understood. Thank you for the warning." Jess nodded and began wiping the dirtier area beneath the bookcase.

"You work efficiently, Mr. Seso." Malin took out his pocket watch, put on his spectacles, and checked the time. "From now on, I hope you can finish cleaning before eight every morning. I usually arrive here around half past eight. Don't leave during the morning; I want you available whenever I call. You can finish work at half past eleven. How does that sound? In the meantime, you may read any of my books. There are more in the next room. If you become truly bored, I can bring you a few of Amy's novels."

"No problem, Master." Jess looked up at the bookcases. Most of the books concerned history and natural history, covering an extensive range of subjects. This would be a fine opportunity to develop a more detailed understanding of Azeroth.

"I generally teach in the afternoons. If you need to find me at any other time, you can come to the Green Crystal building in the southern Mage Quarter. I live on the second floor, and my name is written on the doorplate."

Jess had seen the place known as the Green Crystal. Brilliant flowers and plants drawn to its arcane magic covered the walls, and violet eaves crowned the villa-like building. Below it lay a beautiful little square with even a stone fountain at its center.

Surely only the Mage Quarter's most senior professors and scholars lived there.

If he could one day live in a building like that, he would surely have attained considerable status in Stormwind, wouldn't he?

"Is there anything else you'd like to ask?" Malin said.

"I'd like to learn a language in my spare time," Jess said. "Elven, Dwarven, or perhaps Orcish."

At the mention of Orcish, Malin asked curiously, "I can understand Elven or Dwarven, but why would you want to learn Orcish?"

Jess looked at the old mage, his mind racing as he tried to devise a reasonable explanation within seconds. He had no attention to spare for cursing himself over his failure to prepare one beforehand.

"I think... we may eventually have to accept that we share this world with the orcs. If I learn their language in advance, it might create more opportunities for me when that time comes. All in all, I want to make myself more useful."

"Ah..." Malin raised his brows and nodded repeatedly. "You're remarkably farsighted. I don't know whether you've heard what King Terenas Menethil II wrote in his letters to the other kings. Lordaeron seems to be softening its attitude toward the orcs. They've established internment camps and given the orcs work they can perform inside them... Perhaps Terenas shares your view of the future. Maybe it has something to do with both of you being Lordaeronians."

He rifled through a stack of documents beside him, pulled out a densely written roster, and pressed a finger against one entry. "I remembered correctly. The Wizard's Sanctum did begin preparing an Orcish course several years ago. It has been running for half a year now, though it doesn't have many students. Would you be interested in attending?"

"The course has already been running for six months. Won't I have trouble keeping up?" Jess asked.

"You needn't worry about that." Malin tapped the writing on the entry. "The current Orcish course is completely different from other language classes. The teachers actually know little more than the students. They search everywhere for Orcish writing and speak with captured orcs, as well as former slaves who survived their time under the Horde, collecting the correct pronunciation of characters, the meanings of words... and then making deductions. They call it an Orcish class, but in truth, it is a process of discovery shared by teacher and student."

"I understand," Jess said. "What about Elven classes?"

"As for Elven, I don't recommend studying it at the Wizard's Sanctum. We have no elven teachers, and the human instructors aren't particularly proficient. The course exists merely to train diplomats who will serve the royal family, so its only aim is basic communication and mutual understanding. In practice, Common is spoken at most diplomatic functions nowadays. So-called diplomatic Elven is used mainly to leave a good impression on the elves—harmless pleasantries at the beginning of a meeting, such as 'hello,' 'your clothes are lovely,' or 'the weather is wonderful today.' You can imagine the level of proficiency for yourself. If you want to learn real Elven, you can go to Dalaran someday. Of course, the best place would undoubtedly be Quel'Thalas. If you studied there, you might even become the first human to settle in Silvermoon City."

Malin smiled. "By the way, would you like me to put you in contact with the Orcish instructor, Mr. Caro Duchamp?"

"If you could, I'd be very grateful," Jess answered at once.

"Don't expect an answer too quickly," Malin said. "I don't often see him. And I certainly won't write him a letter, or it will look as though I'm begging him to let you into his class."

Jess nodded. He had never expected an opportunity to learn Orcish to come so easily, or Malin to be so willing to help. If he could begin studying soon, his research into warlock magic would progress much faster. Then it would be far easier to beat the daylights out of those self-taught amateurs in the basement of the Slaughtered Lamb.

All he could do now was pray that the book written in two languages really was an Orcish edition of a demonic-language textbook. If so, it would practically give him a shortcut—as long as the Wizard's Sanctum never found out.