Day of the Dragon by Richard A. Knaak

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            Gilneas, meanwhile, had no such ties to any of the lands involved; it had always remained separate from the other nations of the western world. Both the Kirin Tor and King Terenas knew that Genn Greymane sought to intervene not only to raise his own prestige, but to perhaps further his dreams of expansion. One of Lord Perenolde’s nephews had fled to that land after the treachery, and rumor had it that Greymane supported his claim as successor. A base in Alterac would give Gilneas access to resources the southern kingdom did not have, and the excuse to send its mighty ships across the Great Sea. That, in turn, would draw Kul Tiras into the equation, the maritime nation being very protective of its naval sovereignty.

            “This will tear the Alliance apart. . . .” muttered the young mage with the accent.

            “It has not come to that point yet,” pointed out the elven wizard, “but it may soon. And so we have no time to deal with dragons. If Deathwing lives and has chosen to renew his vendetta against Alexstrasza, I, for one, will not oppose him. The fewer dragons in this world the better. Their day is done, after all.”

            “I have heard,” came a voice with no inflection, no identifiable gender, “that once the elves and dragons were allies, even respected friends.”

            The elven form turned to the last of the mages, a slim, lanky shape little more than shadow. “Tales only, I can assure you. We would not deign to traffic with such monstrous beasts.”

            Clouds and sun gave way to stars and moon. The sixth mage bowed slightly, as if in apology. “I appear to have heard wrong. My mistake.”

            “You’re right about the importance of calming this political situation down,” the bearded wizard rumbled to the fifth. “And I agree it must take priority. Still, we can’t afford to ignore what is happening around Khaz Modan! Whether or not I’m wrong about Deathwing, so long as the orcs there hold the Dragonqueen captive, they’re a threat to the stability of the land!”

            “We need an observer, then,” interjected the elder female. “Someone to maintain watch on matters and only alert us if the situation there becomes critical.”

            “But who? We can spare no one now!”

            “There is one.” The sixth mage glided a step forward. The face remained in shadow even when the figure spoke. “There is Rhonin. . . .”

            “Rhonin?!?” burst out the bearded mage. “Rhonin! After his last debacle? He isn’t even fit to wear the robes of a wizard! He’s more of a danger than a hope!”

            “He’s unstable,” agreed the elder woman.

            “A maverick,” muttered the corpulent one.

            “Untrustworthy . . .”

            “Criminal!”

            The sixth waited until all had spoken, then slowly nodded. “And the only skilled wizard we can afford to be without at this juncture. Besides, this is simply a mission of observance. He will be nowhere near any potential crisis. His duty will be to monitor matters and report back, that is all.” When no more protests arose, the dark mage added, “I am certain that he has learned his lesson.”

            “Let us hope so,” muttered the older of the women. “He may have accomplished his last mission, but it cost most of his companions their lives!”

            “This time, he will go alone, with only a guide to bring him to the edge of Alliance-controlled lands. He shall not even enter Khaz Modan. A sphere of seeing will enable him to watch from a distance.”