Ner'zhul holds the ancient scepter of Sargeras in the air and intones the final words of the Spell of Conjuration. The air above you begins to swirl and presses down upon the assembled masses of the Horde. Above you, the crimson skies break open and reveal the chaotic pathways of the Twisting Nether.

As Ner'zhul deploys his remaining forces towards the new portals, you glimpse the Shattered Hand and Warsong clans awaiting orders on the other side of the Dark Portal.

"Master," you ask. "Should we not recall all of our forces from Azeroth?". "No," the ancient Shaman replys coldly. "They have served their purpose. From this point on, all that we gain will be our's alone". Ner'zhul gives a wicked grin as you unquestioningly follow him into the swirling madness of the Twisting Nether.

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