Gilneas is now in turmoil; unless Darius truly intends to overthrow Greymane's rule and crown himself, the grand lord should not add to the kingdom's woes at this critical moment.
Seizing control through rebellion would leave the Crowley family's authority in doubt, risking deeper strife and the realm's fragmentation.
Andreas believes Darius wants the ancestral Crowley lands, not a shattered kingdom.
Yet ambition can grow; Andreas must test whether prolonged rebellion has kindled greater designs.
Blame the eastern lords led by Godfrey for the pressure, then gauge Darius' real intent.
Though inexperienced, Liam's long observation of his father grants him sound strategic judgment.
At Andreas' advice, Liam's eyes lit with understanding.
"So that's how it is…"
After brief thought, Liam adopted Speaker Moonshadow's plan, dispatching the Royal Guard to spread word in the capital.
Andreas' group is in the southwestern port; north of the docks stands the Greymane private estate where the wounded Genn recuperates.
Count Godfrey and eastern lords have followed from the capital, demanding to see Genn before they leave.
Most of the capital remains under royal control, while Darius' rebels hold the north gate, facing royal troops across fresh earthworks.
Southward, near Black Mire Forest, worgen watch; squeezed from north and south, with eastern nobles stirring, the Greymane room to maneuver shrinks.
Liam must return to the capital at once, leaving Princess Tess to guide the Night Elves to the estate.
Nearly all present are druids; as Tess rides back, they shift into beasts trotting beside her carriage.
Andreas, again a black crow, perches with Malfurion on the carriage roof to survey the land.
Crows are common in Gilneas, the least suspicious of birds.
At the Greymane estate, they find it on high alert against the nearby noble levies.
Without leave, the noble soldiers may not enter the royal grounds.
Yet their slack stance shows the eastern lords are ready to break; once Genn's state is exposed, revolt may ignite.
The druids, as cats and dogs, draw no notice; estate guards would have barred the animals, but Tess' glance stayed them.
Inside, Tess lifts her hem and descends from the carriage with a maid's aid.
A white-bearded steward hastens over; Tess glances around and casually asks, "How is Father? Has Mother rested?"
The steward shakes his head: "Still bedridden; the Queen remains in the parlor fending off the insistent lords."
Andreas and Malfurion drift away; the druids in beast form occupy key vantage points unseen.
As crows they land on the estate's highest observatory, surveying the grounds.
Godfrey's eastern lords are lodged in western villas, but the rooms stand empty; angry voices rise from the parlor below.
A monocled elder sits calmly on a sofa, watching eastern lords berate a white-haired lady in elegant gown.
Andreas identifies the seated man: Count Godfrey, head of the eastern lords.
Facing a dozen nobles' ire, Queen Mia Greymane remains unshaken, her regal poise keeping their words within bounds.
"Andreas, I'll keep watch here; we'll seek a chance to reach King Genn. Go protect Prince Liam."
Malfurion whispers through his beak, "Liam is vital to Gilneas' balance; if someone seeks to exploit the chaos…"
Andreas nods. "Very well. Godfrey seems cautious for now; I'll scout the capital."
With Malfurion and Vastann present, Andreas trusts they can hold the line if Godfrey strikes.
High above, Andreas surveys Gilneas City as he wings northward.
The palace district remains under royal control; northwestern gates are held by men in mismatched armor.
Along the southern wall stand fully-armed Gilnean troops, watching the forest for worgen.
When Andreas reaches the city, Liam's rumors have spread; unrest stirs among the rebel camp outside the north gate.
"Strange…"
He lands on a belfry to observe the rebel camp unnoticed.
The camp's layout is meticulous, the work of a seasoned commander.
Yet the Crowley soldiers can't hide their anxiety, as if some recent event haunts them.
Circling above, Andreas can glean no more through the tight defenses.
Just then Liam's envoy arrives; a spirited woman in leathers receives him.
After talks, the defiant rebels agree to parley, but the woman demands to see King Genn in person.
She is Rona Crowley, only daughter of Darius Crowley.
With Genn in worgen form, Rona settles for meeting Prince Liam instead.
"Hmm…"
Perched atop the Crowley flagpole, Andreas' keen gaze sweeps the camp.
"Knowing Darius, he'd meet the envoy himself. Could it be…"
Andreas had dealt with Darius during the Second Orc War; the Grand Lord was not only the nobles' spokesman in Gilneas but also an outstanding military commander.
His command style mirrored his personality—fiery yet balanced between recklessness and calm—earning him great prestige in the Gilnean army.
Darius personally oversaw most vital matters; handing the army's affairs to his daughter was hardly his style.
'Could Darius also be incapacitated for some reason? Talk about being in the same boat as Genn…'
Darius' personal strength matched his tactical skill; within Gilneas, few could threaten him.
Given the circumstances, only one explanation seemed most likely for why he couldn't show his face.
Andreas didn't know when Genn had been bitten, but Darius always led from the front; a surprise werewolf bite was hardly unthinkable.
This unexpected twist forced the bitter foes into a temporary truce; Liam and Rona met in secret inside a lavish Gilnean city villa.
The villa was a Crowley property, sitting right where the defensive nets of both factions met.
Rona had inherited her father's courage and daring—less soft charm, more martial bearing than most girls.
Long-time acquaintances, Liam and Rona skipped the pleasantries and cut straight to the point.
Rona spoke bluntly: "My father was bitten by a worgen. If the Greymane line can cure him, I'll sign an official cease-fire for Crowley Family and the crown."
Liam blinked; knowing her frankness, he gave a wry smile. "Sadly, Father was also ambushed by a worgen while inspecting supplies. Looks like we're in the same boat."
"…Seriously?"
Rona sighed in exasperation. "What now? Where does Gilneas go from here?"
Both keyholders bitten, with no Genn or Darius to steer, no one knew how far the runaway kingdom might veer off course.
Liam shook off despair, slapping his cheeks. "Don't give up yet—there's still a chance!"
"The Night Elves sent specialists who've cured worgen infections before."
After a pause Liam decided: "We treat Duke Crowley first; once he's sane, he'll put Gilneas above all else."
Rona rubbed her temples. "No idea if Father will forgive you later, but I swear he'll agree to a truce with the crown until the worgen are beaten."
"Heh—then let me stand as witness."
A crow Andreas had shifted into fluttered from the fireplace; Rona leveled her hunting rifle at the talking bird.
Before her eyes Andreas resumed human form, dusted himself, and courteously bowed. "Miss Crowley, pleased to meet you. I am Andreas."
Though Rona was straightforward, she was still a ducal lady raised on elite schooling; hearing his name, surprise flashed across her face.
"Speaker Moonshadow of the Night Elf Republic?"
At her questioning glance Liam nodded. "The worgen Arugal summoned are tied to the Night Elves—that tale can wait. They're here to help Gilneas."
Under Andreas' watch, Crowley rebels quietly wheeled a black-curtained prison cart to the villa, the grounds sealed by Liam and Rona's guards.
The instant the cloth lifted, an armored worgen woke, baring fangs and clawing steel bars with a screech of metal.
"Roar!"
"Sigh…"
Rona winced. "That's my father, Duke Darius Crowley—now little more than a mindless beast."
"Stand back."
Andreas stepped toward the crouched, snarling worgen; sensing danger, the beast hesitated to strike.
"Soothe Animal."
A soft green glow from Andreas' right hand calmed the frenzied worgen—barely, but enough.
Click.
Unlocking the cage, Andreas kept the spell active, guiding the dazed Darius into the villa.
The green light shifted to violet-black; the moment the worgen showed aggression he rolled his eyes and collapsed.
"Phew."
Wiping imaginary sweat, Andreas turned to Liam and Rona. "Done. worgen heal fast—he'll wake soon. Tie him up first."
Earlier Andreas' crow messenger had briefed Malfurion at Greymane Manor.
Half an hour later Vastann led two dozen druids in crow form onto the villa's open balcony.
"Sorry we're late."
Vastann explained: "Still no opening at the manor—Godfrey's watching like a hawk. The Archdruid told us to cure Lord Crowley first."
"Godfrey… what's he scheming?"
Rona clenched her teeth; though Andreas' rumor mill had exaggerated, relations between country-lord Darius and the city-side nobles had indeed soured.
While Liam explained Godfrey's motives to the blunt Rona, Vastann's team briskly moved the worgen Darius to the hall and completed the ritual.
Fur vanished from Darius at visible speed; within minutes he lay human once more.
"Father!"
Rona dashed in, lifting the unconscious Darius.
"Ugh…"
Andreas released the mental spell, and the sturdy lord woke quickly.
"What…?"
The bearded Grand Lord looked around blankly, then recalled the bite that had ended his memory.
"Right—I was bitten by a worgen, then nothing."
Rubbing his still-throbbing head, Darius rose with his daughter's help.
"…Everyone, I don't know what happened in between, but you've brought me back."
Darius scanned the room, finally fixing on the smiling Andreas. "Speaker Moonshadow, unchanged after all these years. Tell me the current state—why is Liam here, and where's that stubborn old Genn?"
At Greymane Manor, Godfrey, top-hat in place and still leaning on his walking stick, looked as unshakeable as an angler in calm waters.
But hurried footsteps suddenly rang outside the drawing-room; a frantic voice shouted, "Lord Godfrey, something terrible has happened!"
Godfrey's brow twitched. He rose, first bowing courteously to Queen Mia, then opened the door with unhurried aristocratic poise.
"What's the panic for!"
Tapping the floor with his cane, Godfrey barked, "Catch your breath before you report. This is a royal manor—mind your bearing!"
"Y-yes, my lord!"
The messenger inhaled, then whispered, "Count, the rebels have signed a truce with Prince Liam; their combined forces are marching on the manor!"
Queen Mia and Princess Tess received the same secret dispatch almost simultaneously; a sharp gleam flashed in the Queen's eyes as she studied the wavering Eastern Lords, her smile turning meaningful.
The Queen's gaze made the Eastern Lords quail; they instinctively stepped back, edging toward Count Godfrey.
Godfrey's expression flickered through several colours as he weighed gain against loss.
The enmity between the Eastern Lords and Duke Crowley ran deep; the Crowley Family's clash with Gilneas had been stoked in no small part by Godfrey and his eastern allies.
Remembering King Genn might already be a mindless beast from a worgen bite, Godfrey's eyes hardened; he reached his decision.
From his walking-stick he drew a slender, almost invisible blade, ready to rally the manor into open revolt.
"I'd advise you not to move."
Thorny vines sprouted from the floor, pinning Godfrey; their barbs locked tight, the slightest struggle sending agony through him.
In crow-form Malfurion swooped from the star-gazing terrace, shifting back to kaldorei. Forewarned, Tess and Mia stayed calm; other eastern nobles whipped out weapons hidden about their persons.
"Drop your arms!"
Queen Mia stepped forward, voice ringing: "Would you follow Godfrey into treason? Think of your families!"
The threat struck home; not every eastern lord wished to burn every bridge. Their hatred of worgen was shallow, and a bargain with the Crowleys still possible.
Between nobles it was all a game: yield some profit and, within the rules, no side need cross the line.
But once the mask was torn away… consequences were anyone's guess.
"Clang!"
Creatures of habit, the lords followed the first to lay down arms; apart from a handful of Godfrey's diehards, most surrendered.
Queen Mia exhaled; with seventy percent yielding, the remaining thirty were manageable.
"Seize the traitors led by Godfrey! Everyone else, hands up and stand aside!"
...When Andreas, Darius and Liam arrived with their army, fighting had already broken out inside and outside the manor.
Godfrey's loyalists hurled their private troops at the defenders; steel rang, and now and then a musket boomed.
Darius sneered, "So the weather-vane actually dared rebellion; his wastrel youngest son's death must have rattled him."
"Hah!"
Slapping his war-horse, Darius leapt in a Heroic Leap into the melee; before both sides he sprouted a pelt of fur.
"Awoooo!!"
A piercing howl; transformed again, the worgen Darius tore into Godfrey's soldiers with claws empowered by bestial strength.
These retainers were skilled recruits, yet against a worgen they fought half-hearted, fearing the curse.
Every Gilnean knew a worgen bite meant joining their ranks; blades wavered.
Once Liam ordered the royal guard to stay back, Darius carved through the eastern troops like a reaper, shattering their morale within minutes.
Worgen vary in power; mindless ones fight on instinct, but Darius kept his reason, wielding fury with a warrior's mind.
Malfurion quashed the indoor uprising; Count Godfrey, Baron Greysford and Vaddon were clapped in irons—revolt crushed at its first shout.
Yet from the moment King Genn awoke, Gilneas' true crisis surfaced.
Leaving aside the bartering between the old Wolf-King and Darius, the worgen hiding in Black Mire Forest finally launched a mass assault.
Most Eastern Lords were bottled up in Greymane Manor; their estates, though garrisoned, crumbled under tens of thousands of frenzied worgen.
Andreas sought Ralaar Fangfire's counsel, and the answer was grim.
"Until they're broken, scattering them is hopeless—they've crowned a Wolf-King."
Vastann frowned. "A Wolf-King… that complicates matters."
The pack obeys the Wolf-King alone; until he bids them stop, they attack without thought.
From Gilneas' southern watch-tower Ralaar pointed at worgen assailing Stormglen Cliffs. "See? Their tactics show purpose—no wild beasts."
"A leader must have risen to command them; kill the Wolf-King and the curse on Gilneas ends."
Stormglen fell; the worgen surged onto the eastern plains, swift as a gale.
Stronger than men, their numbers exploded across southern and eastern villages, nearing a hundred-thousand.
When Genn and Darius galloped back to Gilneas City, control was slipping; worgen scaled sheer walls with their claws, keeping defenders sleepless.
With the kingdom reeling, Andreas hinted that Night Elf reinforcements were ready—provided Gilneas stand with the Night Elves on future world-shaping decisions.
Scarred by ordeal, the once-stubborn Genn learned compromise; after royal council, the old Wolf-King accepted.
On Andreas' order, the Third Sky Fleet of the Night Elf Republic, hovering above the Tol Barad Peninsula, descended through the clouds, revealing itself to Gilneans for the first time.