He had thought to fly back on a gryphon, as Medivh had taught him, and land atop the Violet Citadel so that all his former teachers and fellows could marvel at his prowess. Instead he was riding a plow horse beside Stormwind's former Champion, leading a ragtag band of men to speak to the king about saving the world. Khadgar bit back a chuckle. Well, at least they would make a dramatic entrance, he thought. That was something his old teachers and friends would appreciate.

"What will we do once we reach the city?" he asked Lothar, startling the aging warrior from some reverie. His companion recovered quickly, however, turning to study him with those disarming storm—blue eyes that showed the warrior's emotions plainly but hid the sharp mind within.

"We will speak with the king," Lothar replied simply. He glanced at the youth riding silently beside them, and reached back to stroke the handle of his greatsword, its gems and gold gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. "Though Stormwind is lost Varian is still her prince and I am still her Champion. I have only met King Terenas briefly, and many years ago, but perhaps he will recognize me. Certainly he will know Varian, and the messenger will make sure he is aware of our arrival. He will grant us an audience. And then we shall tell him what has happened, and what must be done."

"And what must we do?" Khadgar asked, though he thought he already knew.

"We must gather the rulers of this land," Lothar answered, as Khadgar had thought he might. "We must force them to see the danger. No nation can stand alone, not against the Horde. My own land tried and is gone because of it. We must not let that happen here. The people must unite and fight!" His hands clenched on the horse's reins, and Khadgar could again see the powerful warrior who had led Stormwind's armies and kept its borders safe for so many years.

"Let us hope they listen," Khadgar said softly. "For all our sakes."