Drakkari Dominion
The month that followed the Emerald Treaty proved that even with the march South officially on hold, life's challenges never wavered.
A new Beginning:
Nazgrel was nervous but resolute in his strides as he marched towards the Huay Drakkani, with Xex'Mon and Burx at his sides. Being in the forefront ahead of his mentor was a new experience but a necessary one, his troll mentor had felt.
'The Orcish Legionaries call you Warchief, and the leaders of Malakk's subjects are to be afforded due dignities,' His chieftain explained with a proud grin.
As they got closer, North-Port came into view in the distance, as did gigantic ships idling in the waters. Yet for all their size, it was the looming presence of the Frost King he found a touch more intimidating, having only glimpsed him during his camp's liberation and now to stand before him as a leader.
'
Anyone would be nervous,' He reminded himself, '
Still, we did not track down every Orc of Hellscream's Horde, which may displease him.
They will continue to raid and pillage, bringing shame to the Orcs and undermining the empire that freed us!' It was enough to make his fangs grind. But as the evening light was eclipsed by Frost King Malakk's long shadow, his mind came back to the moment.
Nazgrel could feel his people's eyes on his back, could sense the intensity of the gathered trolls. Only a small band of elite guards and advisors, but each cutting an intimidating figure even as they were dwarfed by their king, who stood bare chested and in his battle gear.
'
Does he expect a fight?' Nazgrel wondered. He had feigned deafness to some Orcs muttering that he should challenge the troll, or simply lead them to glory elsewhere as mere allies of the Drakkari, '
We owe them too much to betray them.'
Yet now he wondered if the troll king feared just that and intended to make an example of him.
As he made to kneel, he was surprised by a firm clap on the shoulder, "At last, we see one another face to face, Nazgrel, Warchief of the Drakkari Orcs, what an honor this is!"
His voice almost caught in his throat, before he bowed, "The honor is mine, Huay Drakkani Malakk."
The troll's grin was sharp but pleasant, as he said, "You warm my heart with your words, but know that I speak no lie when I say this is a truly grand moment."
The troll's hand slides around Nazgrel's shoulder, redirecting them to face the Orcs as he spoke grandly, "I heard well of your bravery and loyalty in the face of those who hungered only for the old powers they once held."
He slapped his chest, fist-thumping with pride, "I was moved, Nazgrel, moved by your conviction!"
Nazgrel nodded, "Our people were rotting away in camps before you came, bringing not just weapons but words of the spirits' wisdom, while those who challenged our place in the empire had hidden away for decades as we suffered. You speak of my conviction and maybe it is so, Frost King Malakk, but it must be known your and the Drakkari Empire's peerless honor is what inspired it."
He thumped his chest as the troll had done, "We are Orcs of the Drakkari Empire!"
Facing his fellow Orcs, he threw back his head and bellowed a roar, "Drakkari Lok-tar!"
There was barely a moment hesitation before Burx bellowed the same, as the cry of loyalty rose like a tidal wave across the marshalled orcs, fists, flags and axes raised high.
"Drakkari Lok-tar!"
Malakk raised his arms high, and each among his kindred threw back their heads and shouted.
"Drakkari Lok-tar!"
A final resounding cheer echoed across the planes and Malakk clapped him on the back, "Your words ring with honor and wisdom, Nazgrel. As it has been and so shall it continue to be an honor that the Orcish people have embraced the Drakkari Empire. And do not think your commitment has been forgotten. No, in fact it shall be rewarded!"
Malakk roared his voice amplified as though he were a thundering storm! "It is my duty and joy to ensure all my subjects have a home to call their own and in gratitude for your exemplary service, I give to the Orcish people a new homeland!"
He motioned to the sky as spiralling, swirling colors filled the air crafting a grand and vivid illusion of a wild and pristine land that simply seemed to grow vaster and grander by the moment.
"Behold the Howling Fjord! It is a vast and fine land, one of grand forests and open plains, rugged rocks and fierce beasts, untouched by human hands in thousands of years! Awaiting your people there are builders, supplies and feasts aplenty!"
Burx threw his arms in the head with a cheer, "A new land, and a new beginning for our people, freedom has come at last! Hail Nazgrel, hail the Huay Drakkani, hail Malakk, Aka'Magosh!"
Nazgrel turned to Malakk and thumped his chest in salute, "Aka'Magosh!"
"Aka'Magosh!" The Orc Legionnaires roared.
Malakk raised his fist high, "Follow me, to your new homeland!"
A mighty cheer rose and the march to the awaiting fleet began, with Nazgrel at Malakk's side the entire way.
Diplomatic Dealings:
Alonsus Faol had always been partial to the royal gardens and parks of the capital city, but there was something special about the Monastery's orchards in which he now walked with young Whitemane and some… guests.
"I must thank you for your tasteful handling of the young prince's funeral," The troll king commended, "I have seen many young one's fall in my life, but you sent him off nobly."
Alonsus nodded, "It would have been disrespectful to see his death used as some political prop that led only to more suffering."
Slad'Ran's sibilant tone rose adding, "The tragically fallen always deserve their due rest."
Malakk nodded, brushing passed a fruit bearing tree, fingers toying with the leaves but taking nothing as they continued their winding path.
"I am gladdened the gardens here remained untouched," Alonsus murmured.
"Do gardens play an important role in the worship of the Light?" Malakk asked.
It was Whitemane who answered, her tone unwavering but not sharp, "The Light is not in nature but in tending to the world we enhance the Light in ourselves, while growing that which can serve the flock."
Malakk rubbed his chin, half glancing at Slad'Ran who nodded, leading the troll to answering, "A fascinating thought, I take it one's Light is intertwined with the soul?"
"In essence, but not quite," Alonsus said, placing one hand over the other to convey the layered nature of the Light and souls, "It is through the possession of a soul that we are aware of the Light and forge a connection to it, but it Is still distinct."
Whitemane tapped her stave on the grass and added, "It is also on communion – the Light is all while we are one – but in bringing the clergy under one roof, in uniting townships or people in collective work like this, we enhance the shared Light within."
"From all I have seen a strong community is the very essence of the Holy Light," Slad'Ran added.
"It is a heartening mission to bring people together and to act as caretakers to the world," Malakk said before adding, "Please forgive me if I misspeak, as while I am fluent in Common, certain terms and words still convey rather different meanings in my own tongue."
Whitemane merely nodded, while Alonsus said, "Of course, though if we are being honest, may I ask what inspired this avenue of questioning?"
"A king who forsakes learning is a fool and while noble, Slad'Ran has been dedicated to the study of the Light; this one wanted to hear things from your perspective. It is important for a monarch to understand as much as this one can of every facet of their subjects' lives and belief systems. I would hope that in the future we can have more of these meetings."
Whitemane said what Alonsus was thinking, "Will such discussions be used to parcel our presence into approval among the people?"
Malakk shrugged, "If you wish to speak in private or not at all, I will not rebuke you. Though I will not deny the benefits to being seen in the company of holy figures like yourselves, my interest is genuine, but I imagine myself attending sermons might put off your flock."
They both nodded, slowly as Alonsus said, "I would be happy to continue meeting like this, Frost King Malakk, and to visit in my own hours as well."
"I am pleased to hear that, and with that in mind I come bearing good news!" Malakk came to a stop and smiled; it was all teeth and tusks, but Alonsus was growing used to that, "With matters calming down across the new dominions, I will be reducing my guard forces at your temples and ending the various security mandates."
Whitemane's eyes flew wide, and Alonsus let out a sigh of relief as she said, "We can operate the churches as normal again?"
"Indeed," Malakk said gently, "I always endeavor to keep my word and you both have been exemplary hosts given the trying circumstances."
"The people of Lordaeron will be overjoyed I am sure," Alonsus said with a subtle bow.
Whitemane leaned forward on her staff, "What does this mean for the Paladins' training?"
Malakk's expression shifted into something like a thoughtful pout as he said, "The training of Priests shall reconvene as normal. Paladins I would have abstained from further training, at least within such fortified abodes, but I am amendable to changing my mind on this matter."
Whitemane's lips thinned, and her grip on her stave tightened but she nodded, "I will offer my services however is needed… Frost King Malakk."
"I as well, of course, the Paladins may be a young order, but they are a staple and one we would be sad to lose, so please consider me at your service, Huay Drakkani Malakk," Alonsus said.
"I thank you both and admire your steadfast dedication to your beliefs. I am certain we shall solve this conundrum, together," He said, placing a companionable hand on each of their shoulders.
"But for now, let us return to the monastery… I wish to pay my respects to Uther before returning to the capital, and I imagine you wish to share the good news."
Rebuilding Home:
A bitter wind blew across their cloaked frames, Beve stood atop a rocky perch at Malakk's side, staff in hand and an intense stare that looked across the
Ruins of Alterac.
"You will really rebuild it?" She asked him, a part of her still not quite believing it.
Malakk nodded, "In a sense. My architects say the foundations are strong and expansive, if levelled out it will serve as a fine foundation for a megastructure akin to some of the great temple cities of Zul'Drak."
"I have been looking forward to seeing one of these structures ever since you spoke of them," Beve said.
"You will, soon enough," He said absently, "The Shamans and Priests align to tell this one the spirits here are more amicable than at home. This means we want to avoid offending them or driving the majority out, but that means negotiating a manageable climate shall be a lengthy but worthwhile endeavor."
Beve chuckled, "We're Alteraci, My King, not summer-loving lowlanders. Still, the thought of managing the weather…" She let out an excited puff of frosty air, "And the farms? With these magics and methods of living, Alterac shall be reborn, stronger than ever before."
It hurt that her family were not here to see it, and the brief lull in their exchange let her know Malakk was giving her time to just… breathe… Licking her dry lips, she pressed on, "It will be nice… To be home again."
Malakk nodded, his own gaze distant before he spoke, "I am sure it shall be all the richer for your presence my friend."
She murmured her thanks, mind drifting away as she traced patterns in the snow with her stave, an old habit once near-forgotten.
Malakk rested his hand on her back, "Shall we go?"
"I… Might just dither here for a time if it pleases you… It has been sometime since I explored my home."
"I shall leave you to your thoughts then, Beve."
"Thank you..."
A Family Affair:
Malakk watched Alexi arrive at his own home with a not-entirely forced smile, greeting the cloaked noblewoman with a gentle pat on the back and letting him fall in at his side.
"Jandice is in the dancing room last I heard, I was on my way to pay her a visit when I saw your chariot's approach," He said.
"Very kind of you my king," Alexi said, "In truth I did not expect you for some days, but given you are here now it means I can share this fine news in person."
"Oh?" Malakk hummed.
Alexi held up a brief case and patted it happily, "Warlord Zol'Maz and I proved quite successful in our border inspection, and the riverside observation points are all coming along nicely."
"I must commend you my dear Alexi, this is fine news indeed!" Malakk cheered.
"You are too kind Your Majesty, but your accolades are most welcome-ah, my apologies Your Grace!" Alexi said as Malakk ducked through another door, "Now that we are slowly bringing the economy back to life, we are seeking artisans to make our home more accommodating."
Malakk chuckled, "Don't be so nervous, Alexi, but know your efforts are appreciated."
Alexi bowed his head, but frowned, "If I may, Frost King Malakk, when it comes to workers, I am concerned that your emphasis on supplying food banks and these… public housing projects will de-incentivize the peasantry; they are a lazy, listless lot by nature, if you spoil them, they shall not work."
"A fair concern brave Alexi," It very much wasn't, "And should this cause a labor shortage we can assess the matter. For now, however I wish to continue keeping the people as well-fed and safe as possible; a contented populace is a peaceful one after all."
"A fair decision, that will make it more difficult for rabble-rousers," Alexi conceded as they made their way into the dancing halls. Malakk briefly caught sight of the Barov's young sons who protested the alliance shuffling down the hall and casting him a wary glance before vanishing.
Illucia and Jandice turned to see them, both in elegant dark blue, gold, and white trimmed dresses, their pale features shining as they said.
"Welcome home father, and good day Frost King Malakk."
For his part, Malakk idled for a time, letting Alexi hug his daughter, kiss his wife, and share in the excitement of his return, a brief reminder of why he was fond of the family, at least a little. A glinting jewel caught his gaze, and he turned his attention to Jandice's ivory leg and cane both painted with intricate runes and studded with rare magical gems.
He must have been caught looking, because Jandice's gaze met his own and he made to join the conversation, "If I may, how are you taking to the prosthetic, is there anything you need?"
She kept a steady hand on her cane but still managed to bounce in place a little, answering, "Quite well, my Huay, your artisans are to be commended."
She glanced down at the split in her skirt that let her show off the prosthetic, "I feared I would be required to wear buttoned down dresses and limp for all my days but this… Well, I am sure in due time it shall feel natural."
"It warms my heart to hear that," He offered her his hand, and she placed her delicate digits in his own as her parents led them to the tearoom, "Just know you can always come to me with a request, Jandice."
The Human nodded, a fluttering smile on her face as he helped her to her seat and joined the Barov's around the table, sinking into his custom-made chair and saying, "Now Alexi, I believe you have some fine news to share with your family?"
The man preened and began to talk, while Malakk watched, listened… And enjoyed the shortbread biscuits.
Bound Circles:
Quinviere was an old sorcerer, she had seen princes of Stromgarde born, grow into kings and be returned to the dirt, all without seeming to age a single day.
She had been around long enough, longer than many of her predecessors, so long that some had started to murmur she would outlive the kingdom itself.
A novel idea, but hardly realistic.
No small amount of power, trinkets and deals dipped in dirty blood sustained her as they had the Court Sorcerers before her, and they would not outlast a nation.
'
Or so I thought,' She mused silently, her gaze drifting off and absentmindedly eyeing the Drakkari scholars scattered around the field.
She never knew what was best for the nation; between Galen's ambition and Thoras's pride, she decided to let them sort the matter between themselves. Had she made the right decision, who could say?
Thoras would see the kingdom burn before it bowed, but that might have been better than fading into a petty state. She knew Galen had ambitions beyond continued service, but could he scheme his way out of the corner he was in? Again, who could say?
'
He will have a hard time of it with so many of his own schemes turning against him for this, without the Drakkari and the Sniper Company to prop up his reign he'd be dead within a week.'
But Galen was only a king – a steward – their lineage was strong and their line old, but they were not Stromgarde itself. Perhaps the city, but not the nation, not the land.
Quinviere could feel the earth beneath her in a way ill-suited to a mage. The ground itself coiled and crisscrossed with energy like the bars of a cage that pressed and strained against their own existence. The circlet spinning around the tip of her crystalline staff tip hastened its endless spiralling spin, sensitive to the ambient energies.
Quinviere's focus returned to her servants and the Drakkari scholars inspecting the Circle of Inner Binding. The great stones weathered by age and storm alike still stood tall, humming with a silent power, no moss grew in their shadows and no beast dared approach them. The Elementals that sprung up had been quenched or bound, but their minds were too simplistic to reveal anything of worth – they could not even speak.
"Honored Sorceress," One of the Wolvar asked, trundling up to her side.
"Yes, Scholar?"
"We see signs of use, are rituals performed?"
She did not bite her tongue, but merely narrowed her gaze and said, "We keep our distance from these places, they are of ill-omen to my people. However, we have seen signs of the Kobolds engaging in prayer around them."
"What do they pray to?"
She tilted her head to the side slowly, "We do not speak to the Kobolds."
The Wolvar let out what she thought was a disappointed grunt but nodded.
"Do you have a theory as to the stones' nature?"
The Wolvar whined then added firmly, "Speculation: Not mere nexus points but a network, tied to something beneath the earth. Speculation."
"I see, well, I suppose I should do more than observe and see if we can unravel this mystery together then, shan't I?"
A New Dawn:
As the days dragged on, Malakk found himself seeking out tall towers and high walls to enjoy the sharp, albeit no longer chilly breeze as Spring wound down to its end. It was here, arms folded and leaning against a pillar that he looked west towards
Lordamere Lake. The familiar voice of Chief Rageclaw drew him from the brush of wind against his frame.
"The barges work well, shipping lanes efficient, will grow more with new ports west, south," They said, sitting on the railing and looking towards the same spot that Malakk was.
"That is fine news my friend, we shall have to look into who wishes to be settled along the water's edge."
"Krag'Jin & Beve no doubt have thoughts."
Malakk nodded, "I imagine so, Fenris Keep and the Lake are well to you and yours liking then?"
Legs kicking, the Wolvar yipped, "Indeed, indeed! Elder Shamans thinks we can create large fish farms there with purification, bolstering of the native plants and beasts."
Their ears twitched in sync, moments before a guard announced, "Royal Councilor and Apprentice Councilor Lianne and Calia to see you Frost King Malakk."
"Send them up if it is not too much trouble," He said with a lazy wave.
They did not have to wait long and soon enough, Malakk was turning around, arms wide as he jovially said, "Welcome Royal Councilors, I did not expect either of you back so soon."
Calia curtsied, "I heard tell my mother was returning early and cut short my meeting with the archbishop."
"I trust it was an illuminating visit?" Malakk asked, leaning back against the pillar as he relaxed.
"It was, Frost King Malakk, and I believe quite well appreciated by the clergy and faithful," She said gently.
"Wonderful for all concerned then," He grinned, turning his attention to Lianne, who offered a brief bow, "Lianne, I do hope your meeting with Lady Lucille was pleasant."
Lianne's smile seemed quite bright all things considered, "Quite, she's a remarkable woman and done much to bring stability to the lands around North-Port during this most difficult time. Though… I confess, I feel she was somewhat uncomfortable to be rewarded with new lands to govern alongside her family's traditional holdings."
Malakk shrugged, "Good work should be rewarded and if she is popular and competent all the better."
Lianne nodded, "I concur, she will serve the interests of the Drakkari and the Royal conciliary well I think." Despite the light tone something severe, or perhaps forlorn drifted onto Lianne's face.
"Something troubles you?" he asked softly, pushing himself off the pillar to stand attentive.
Lianne's gaze flickered to Calia as she said, "I saw signs of construction within the Throne room as I passed. We had expected some changes, but… these seem extensive. I could not even see what was going on, but the noise was intense."
A gentle hum rumbled in his throat, "I am sorry if this troubles you both, but I assure you the reason for it shall become clear as we usher in the Spring Solstice."
Lianne's expression sharpened, "There is more to this than the changing of doorframes and patterns along blanks walls, I take it?"
"Much more, but I assure you, it shall serve to bring greater stability to the empire and through it, I hope, ensure continued peace and prosperity for all."
Divine Blood
Zul'jin lingered in the Hinterlands for a time, first to help
Zul'rogg and his Forest Fighters settle into their new homes, then waiting for a betrayal from the Alliance and finally for his fleet to gather and escort him home, thus ensuring no one would question why the flagship was so heavily warded and guarded.
He returned to a parade, to raucous cheers and song, to fireworks and festivities that dwarfed anything he'd seen in his lifetime. Great cooking fires held pots and pans cooking meats and herbs, both foreign and familiar, flooding the capital with gloriously fragrant scents to accompany the festivities.
He led the people in prayer and song and dance, storytellers and smoke shapers retelling tales of their epic clashes. He saw to the display of reclaimed and captured artifacts for the adoring crowds, all the while he promised that never again would the Amani be broken and beaten down by the great powers of the world.
No, they would once again be a great power in the world!
Zul'Aman itself reflected that reality, greatly changed in Zul'jin's absence in ways he could only appreciate when he took the time to walk its streets on a quiet evening.
Reconstruction and expansion of everything from temples to apartments and farms saw old and flagging infrastructure given a new lease of life. The ancient museums were flooded with once-lost artifacts, and mausoleums refurbished and resanctified to house the reclaimed dead.
One could smell new and strange scents from hookah lounges and the now ever-present hum of growing industry in ways not seen in generations. Trolls walked the streets with pride and cheer, high-ranking officials ornamenting themselves with goods imported from Northern trade vessels. One could even spy no small number of Drakkari, be they trolls or Wolvar, or even more foreign and esoteric creatures scattered throughout the crowds.
'
It is good,' Zul'jin thought with a lightness in his chest as he marched up the steps to the open-air palace, blessed by Ula'Tek. The great stones he stroked his hand across each as large as a troll, sealed together with gold more ancient than the cities of the elves.
At the back of the temple where its sharply cut walls wised sat a humble throne of elegantly carved stone, at its base an open maw carved in the shape of a snake. But what truly drew the eye was what rose above it, watching over the throne, the palace, the city, and empire since time immemorial.
His Aman'Azhi elites stepped back and bowed their heads as he approached the great statue of
Ula'Tek. Carved from jade and lined with shimmering gold and studded with gems, it was shaped to resemble a great coiling snake with her face in the center. Crystaline eyes that shone with intelligence and fire bore into him and Zul'jin knelt before his patron and goddess.
"Praise be to the ancestors, to the Loa, and to she who reigned above all with wisdom and brilliance, the mighty goddess of civilizations and war, the glorious Ula'Tek."
He bowed his head as his servant chanted, "Praise be to the goddess of the Amani Empire!"
A sensation of coolness spilled across his frame, like gentle scales brushing against warm skin, soothing and soft. His goddess was pleased, and for this Zul'jin would happily weep.
From his hip pouch he pulled free a shimmering hammer thrumming with the energies of the humans' Light, and he placed it into the throne's maw.
"This I offer you, a mighty warrior's weapon infused with the power of your enemies that you might make your own."
The stone maw closed around the hammer, Ula'Tek's eyes blazed and there was a flash, and in an instant the hammer was gone.
"This one begs a vision from his benefactor, that I might see the work in your shrine and know if it pleases your divine self."
There was a moment, a moment where he feared he overstepped and she would grow silent, but an echoing hiss resounded in his mind and his head swam with images.
The Shrine of Ula'Tek, the massive ziggurat dwarfing the peaks of the Wildhammer and the palaces of the humans burst forth from the ground itself, each stepped layer of stone inscribed with a dizzying array of ornate inscriptions and runes, each dusted with shimmering jade dust.
His vision carried him to the temples heart where
Jin'zakk,
Hex Lord Malacrass and the Priests of the Holy Four partook in rituals of blinding brilliance. Great wards pulsed and hummed as priests danced and offerings were made to invoke divine might, as spectral chains in a rainbow of colors and powers wove their way into a crimson egg.
Upon the astral planes he could hear the roar of divine offence, even as the Faceless One's wrath was allayed with honeyed words and divine intervention. Zul'jin felt his goddess could around him, her magnificence dwarfing the shadowed image of the Soulflayer so much that his presence quailed before her.
'I shall be needed soon,' he realized, seeing an empty void I the rituals where only Ula'Tek's chosen could fill. '
I understand my goddess, and I swear, this shall restore our people and your worship to glory eternal.'
To that she was silent, and Zul'jin was returned to his body with nary a second having passed between then and now. Bowing to the effigy of his patron, Zul'jin smiled at the thought of the future for the first time in ever such a long time.
Turning to his escorts, Zul'jin cried, "The victory of our empire approaches and with it the dawning of a new age, this I swear in Ula'Tek's name!"
Epilogue
As the days of winter faded into memory and a new Spring bloomed, thoughts of war and revolt grew more distant as the signs of battle faded from the everyday life of the common folk.
Roadways were clear and even being improved, as troll and former Syndicate soldiers escorted food and materials from as far afield as Northrend across the countryside.
Crafters enjoyed the fruits of their labors, be It in gold they were paid or in strange new public works, such as the increasingly popular saunas and public baths.
Fishermen and farmers once again began to ply their trades as the need to sow seeds and make a catch proved more alluring than starving in protest.
Church sermons were held within temples, markets old and new were opened while Drakkari guards faded into the background.
One could not forget the war of course, let alone the Drakkari's presence or that of their collaborators. But life, as they say, went on, and thus it was with great rejoicing that the people of Lordaeron met the news that the Spring Equinox festival would be held as was custom.
It was a joyous day, though be it one welcomed at first with some trepidation, but Malakk knew well his subjects feared the loss of their culture and traditions. With that in mind, he kept himself and his people's presence to the background, leaving Lianne and Calia to tour the countryside with a small, mostly human escort save their personal guards.
Gift barrels of fine wine were sent across the countryside, all bearing the dual symbol of Lordaeron and the Drakkari Empire but delivered and distributed by purely human hands.
As the capital markets and gardens flooded with people, they would struggle to catch sight of a Drakkari, with Malakk having called on Beve's forces to supplement his own. Some incidents of rabble rousing and violence had been reported to his ears, but nothing went beyond minor disturbances and were thus let be.
As evening descended, Lianne and Calia returned to the capital, greeted by a shower of petals as they divided out gifts and blessings alongside the archbishop. Only when the night did fall did Malakk allow for a greater presence of his fellow trolls to be felt, capering Drakkari illusionists working in tandem with rocketeers to put on a spectacular display of crackling light in a swirling maelstrom of colors and imagery designed to evoke wonder and awe.
Then, came the final act, the royal family humbly making a new addition to the expansive royal gardens; an apple tree was the choice of the year and after jointly pouring a small clay pot of blessed water atop it, mother and daughter led the people in an age-old hymn to the Light and the Spring.
With the coming of the full moon in the sky and the clocks striking twelve, the remaining peoples dispersed to their homes or in some cases continued revelling.
The journey back to the palace was silent, her mother leaning deep into the plush seating of the carriage and Calia herself fiddling with her dress.
"You did very well today," Her mother whispered, placing a gentle hand atop Callia's fidgeting digits.
"Thank you… This was… Hard. It was my…. It was our first time without them…"
"I know dear," Her mother whispered squeezing her hand.
"I… Can I sleep in your chambers tonight? I know it is juvenile, but I do not wish to be alone," Calia said, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Of course dear. No matter when you need me, I shall never be far," Her mother said warmly.
With that, their carriage pulled into the palace, and they were helped out by their guards. Passing by the sealed throne room, Calia heard her mother say, "Make sure you rest well, tomorrow shall be another eventful day."
"Of course, mother."
The path to the throne room from the once-royal and now Councilors' Quarters was unusually crowded, with every Royal Councilor having been summoned to a meeting with Frost King Malakk after breakfast.
Beve kept her interest to herself, as she looked over her chattering contemporaries.
Galen was standoffish as usual, keeping company only with his handsome Valorcall and staying as far away from Krag'jin as possible.
The Barov's were murmuring among themselves as they were want to do, Jandice now walking with some authority on her prosthetic and looking lovely.
The Forest Troll chieftain had come only with Seraphine, and both looked to be taking in the palace with great interest, but a subtle alertness belied their unfamiliarity with the place.
Lianne and Calia drew her attention perhaps most of all however, and not merely because they were a pleasant sight, but instead for the assurance, the sheer confidence with which they walked.
'
Malakk told them what this was about, he must have,' She thought.
Finally, they approached the throne room, the massive hallway doorframe made larger, wider, and stronger, the stone used holding true to Lordaeron's preference for white brickwork. There were no doors to speak of that Beve could see, and light did not stream into the chamber from a glass dome ceiling as it once had.
As they drew closer, she could see longstanding patterns lining the floor replaced with subtle grooved carvings spiralling out in a great circle, and the balconies once adorning the walls replaced with massive pillars. Finally passing the threshold, Beve heard some of her contemporaries gasp and she almost followed suit.
"This is what I would expect of a throne room," Chuckled Krag'jin, the tall, lean troll growing laxer as he took in the sights around them, his bride motioning to some sigil or symbol that caught both their eye.
'
No wonder he feels at home,' Beve thought.
Braziers lit by strange purple flames. Mighty pillars rose, each one thick and sharp, giving the place an almost angular feel despite its circular nature. Every stretch of wall was covered with ornate script, art, and runes humming with power. Golden monuments of great beasts and trolls grew from the stone, gems lining the walls making the thief in her lick its lips.
But all eyes were primarily drawn to the throne; sitting on a subtly raised dais, the great stone throne was familiar, but different than Beve remembered. Still every bit as sharp and imposing, it was now fitted to the floor and its headrest adorned with a sharp circular ring of steel that pulsed with a swirling white light.
Beve's gaze slid to the Menethils and she could see the brief flashes of emotion – if not shock then melancholy – at the familiar throne room being no more.
'
So, they did not know this much, and there is more here than what we see,' She thought, focus shifting back to the glowing rune above Malakk's throne.
Malakk waited a few moments to let his Royal Councilors take in the sight before announcing his presence. Striding through the looming gateway he cheered, "Welcome one and all, I thank you for making the time to be here, as this is a momentous occasion."
He passed by Lianne and lingered for but a moment, sharing a glance before passing by and marching up the steps of his throne.
"I love what you've done with the place," Krag'jin chuckled.
The Barovs, always quick with praise were quick to join in.
"Yes, it was about time for a change I think," Alexi started.
"This hearkens to a new era," Illucia added.
Before anyone else could speak he glanced back with a subtle grin, "Why thank you all, I am satisfied that it is pleasing to the eye. This design from the art to the pillars is a near-perfect replication of my throne room in Gundrak, the capital of Zul'Drak and our empire."
He could feel their focus shifting, gazes intensifying. Was he planning to stay forever, or merely leave his mark, they must be wondering, wholly aware at least some had expected him to race back with the winter or abandon his homeland entirely, but Malakk would not be a king if he settled so easily.
"I take it you waited as long as you did to avoid offending the locals?" Beve asked, eyes drifting across the room.
"Somewhat," He shrugged, "But I also thought it gouch to spend resources on vanity's, especially before the war could be said to be concluded."
Malakk took a few moments to contemplate his next thoughts, stroking his chin.
"However," He hummed, standing before his throne, "There was another reason."
Taking his seat, he felt the magic humming around him, a subtle mass of it intensifying just above his head.
"And might I be so bold as to ask what that is? This all feels needlessly cryptic," Galen said, arms folded in a manner that made him look like a pouty adolescent to Malakk, a thought he kept to himself.
Malakk chuckled for the briefest moments, though Galen looked unmoved.
"You will have to forgive your king's preference for the theatrical, I did not get where I am without a certain love of showmanship. Still," He conceded, "We have a full schedule this day and so it would behove us to move on."
The magic was suffusing the runes, linking one to the next as it went.
"With that in mind, I feel it is best to address the mammoth in the bed chamber," He said, tone amused and casual. "I am aware that many have wondered about the future governance of the empire and its various dominions beyond your own territories, and today I come to put that to rest."
The spell was complete and awaiting his command.
Leaning into his throne he said, "I hope no one finds teleportation disorienting."
And then in a flash, they were gone.
The blinding flash of white light faded as swiftly as it came, and Malakk leaned into his throne, the familiar, frosty air filling his lungs as he gave those before him a moment to take in their surroundings.
Already he could see the shock fading way into awe and deep musing, many visibly surprised. Even Galen, much to his reluctance.
'
For all our efforts with Lordaeron's throne room, it is but a miniature replica of my own.'
The shape, the monuments, pillars and patterns were all near-identical, but here the stone was dark, the carvings loomed larger and the sheer scale of it was easily thrice that of anything he had seen among the humans.
Opening his arms wide he chuckled, "Your king must beg forgiveness for the dramatic revelation, but now I may officially welcome you to my home."
He rose from his throne, his blend of Drakkari and human clothes flowing around him smoothly as the lights brightened, an artificial replication of sunlight as he grandly proclaimed.
"Welcome, to Gundrak."
Krag'jin's murmuring struck his ears first, echoing off the stone, "Never did I think I'd live to see something so grand…"
Galen was looking around furtively, muttering, "This… This is but one chamber?"
Beve's gaze had locked onto Lianne and Calia who were dutifully taken in by their surroundings, but not as surprised as anyone else. Drawing herself up, the Councilor grinned widely.
"So, this is the capital you spoke of," She flourished her robe gesturing grandly as Malakk smiled, "I can see why you think so highly of it."
"That," Jandice intoned excitedly, "Was not a normal teleportation spell."
"Excellent deduction, Jandice. Indeed, it was not," Malakk hummed, as he motioned to the circular rift trapped atop his throne, "I am sure you have all been told just how hard we have been upon the Ley Lines of Lordaeron these past few months and know well of the dangers of such. Thus, while this marvellous creation is designed to compensate for that, I shall largely only use it for emergencies."
He let a smile spread across his face, "But to answer your unspoken questions, what you experienced is a modern miracle of magic that will enable the future of governance in the Drakkari Empire. A combination of human arcane magic, and the Way-gates beloved and studied by the Nerubians, now brought into perfect harmony by ancient trollish spell-craft." Flourishing his coat, he cheered, "Through this I can be in Northrend or Rok'Asha with but a whim, ensuring that I am never far when my subjects have need of me, and making assembly of every councilor, chieftain, overseer and noble across the dominions a simple matter. Welcome, to the beginning of a new age in efficient governance!"
He had not really been expecting applause but welcomed the gentle round of clapping and a "here here!" from Alexi that followed with a sharp bow.
"My friends, my comrades, my dear advisors. You stand now where it all began, in ancient Gundrak. It Is here that great leaders of ages past have called advisors, nobles, and representatives from across the empire to discuss matters of great importance."
"Is… This where we are expected to operate from now, Frost King Malakk?" Illucia asked.
"Hardly my dear, such distance from the people would only undermine the foundations of the empire," He assured, his steps taking him into the heart of the small crowd, "You shall still govern your dominions as discussed, but on occasion convocations shall be called to chart the course of the empire as a whole and as my royal councillors and advisors, it is only natural that you be present."
Motioning for them to follow through the grand chamber doors, vibrant curtains were gently pulled apart to reveal the great terrace resting outside his throne room. The width and length of a city park, its well-tended carvings were made more resplendent for ethereal banners and twinkling illusionary lights, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. "With that in mind, I have arranged a small welcoming celebration, to ensure all of my noble advisors are well familiar with one another," He said, drinking in the glorious atmosphere of his home. The chill hanging in the air, the stone warmed by Runes, gargantuan black stone temples and apartments standing out starkly against the delicate blanket of manicured snow.
It was good to be home, the war had left it feeling almost a stranger to him and it would feel alien forever more with Moorabi ever absent; but for now, he had his duties as king to tend to.
Tables lined with freshly cooked food and fine drink were arrayed tastefully as a gentle snowfall drifted across the highest tier but dared not lay a single speck upon the party goers. Trolls, Wolvar, Taunka and a few orcs were among the waiting crowd, each raising a toast, "Welcome back, Frost King Malakk!"
"Thank you, my friends, and please give kind welcome to your new contemporaries," He cheered.
"Welcome, honored friends, to Gundrak!" They cheered.
Despite some obviously being taken aback by the sheer scale of the sights before them, Beve even murmuring, "It stretches on forever," beneath her breath, he was pleased to see them quickly answer the call with their own as Lianne stepped forward to lead them, "We are honored to be welcomed into your ranks."
With that, they quickly dispersed among the waiting crowd, being eagerly greeted by curious overseers, chieftains, and nobles, or seeking out familiar faces.
Some like the Barovs were swiftly joined by Gal'Darah, eager to continue conversation about building a shrine in their home city; Galen was swept up by Zol'Maz for who knew what skullduggery; Krag'jin was found by a cheering Hooktusk, and in her company was Fairwind; Arctikus linked arms with Beve, quickly joining with some of the more scholarly looking sort; Lianne and Calia, were approached by Slad'Ran and were quickly being greeted by priests and politicians alike.
'
Such a pleasant sight, but the picture is far from complete,' He mused, sauntering down the steps and flourishing his cape.
"And of course, I must bid welcome to our noble guests and diplomats," He gestured to the quartet of representatives – Taunka, Wolvar, Tuskar and Nerubian – arriving on the scene. "Speakers of the
Tunka'lo,
Frenzyheart,
Unu'pe and Nerubian nations, know that you are welcomed and honored guests of Frost King Malakk and friends Drakkari Empire."
Another welcoming call rang out from the crowd, and he was pleased to see his newest advisors joining their voices to the rest of the Drakkari as the newly minted diplomats joined the festivities.
Malakk quickly found himself the center of attention, jubilation filling his voice as he hugged priests and guffawed with well-worn old soldiers and rivals. Drinking in the celebratory atmosphere as he came to a stop at the balcony's edge, chill winds brushing his face he sighed contentedly.
'
I'm home.'
NOTES:
Well, here it is, the end so to speak at least for a time.
I do have some posts coming in the future and a few potential side stories and the like, but as for the main story this is where I am ending it. For now, we've reached the end of content I have written and while I have outlines for the remaining arcs, they've become quite fluid and I sadly need to focus on other parts of my life.
I want to again thank Ebanu8 for being a wonderful editor and fan as well as all of you who have stuck with thie story through all its ups and down, whether you critiques it, liked it or offered supportive comments, you've made this a wonderful and engaging experience for me and I hope I could do the same for you.
OK, commentary time, cos I am not missing the chance to do this
The Nazgrel scene here is super old if edited many times and Malakk is in pure performance politics mode with his theatrics & aggressively tying Nazgrel & the Orcs homeland to himself & the empire. I also had the characters blend troll and Orcish linguistics for their cries.
I wish I had done more with Faol & Whitemane in this story but who knows, maybe side stories later? Also Paladins will make a come back, just not trained in areas that can be turned into literal forts overnight, or otherwise with some other kind of protection put in place.
I've generally portrayed Beve as pretty cavalier while still trying to hint at depth, this is a scene I had in mind for awhile, as I wanted to emphasize her closer bond with Malakk and diaspora nature as well as how isolated she's become over the story with the loss of her family.
Literally the only redeemable things Malakk sees in the Barov's is their genuine affection & loyalty to one another; which is also why barring Jandice he tends to tack terms onto their names which are compilatory but signify a lack of intimacy. Also the Barov's will be the first humans to convert to Loa worship, liking the idea of eternal life as spirits after they die over fusing with the Light.
Quinviere was inspired by that old cool Stromgarde fan film that never got finished
Beyond that, keeping her mysterious, same for Galen's schemes cos of all the collaborators he's the most likely to turn around and bite Malakk in the ass.
Lordemare in canon apparently has no fish, the Wolvar will change that. Also this scene had huge rewrites given the initial dialogue was for stuff that no longer happened. Though Calia training to be a Priestess was still a thing. Lady Lucille is an OC suggested by a reader on SV, she rules near North-Port and is very cool. Also yes I have avoided the throne room since Malakk killed Teranas, good eye
Hey remember that secret Zul'jin was being so coy about & Malakk playfully let slide? This is it. Also I just enjoying seeing Zul'AMan restored and expanding it by including RPG & other content; I really wanted to make the place feel lived in, hence museums and festivals and the like.
I've really enjoyed writing Lianne and later on Calia, and I wanted to give them a little window of attention here, for them and for Lordaeron.
Beve remained a useful character for a dispassionate and observant perspective on things, very helpful to have her around XD Also finally paying off that bit of foreshadowing from like 30 chapters back regarding Way-Gates, huzzah! Also the reason the throne room is designed like that ties into the trolls penchant for sympathetic magic, I have a side story that goes into that somewhere.
This final scene has been rewritten so much I feared I'd have to cut it entirely, but I am pretty pleased with how it came out, I wish I'd squeezed in a reference to Moorabi but otherwise I feel it caps things off thematically and narratively speaking.
Thanks again for reading
