The Winter War - Prologue: Friends & Foes
Word spread quickly.
The fields of Tirisfal had been set alight, the coasts bombarded and raided while Dalaran was completely barred from Loardaeron's capital by foreign magics.
All of which was pure preamble to what would follow.
Heralded not by blades and flames, but messenger birds sent to every noble, city and commander across the lands of Lordaeron and beyond.
The words within unbelievable, yet the reality was undeniable. King Teranas the Wise was dead, struck low by a troll king he had offended some years past.
A troll who now proclaimed themself to be the ruler of the lands, offering acceptance within his empire or of neutrality. Hidden beneath layers of flourished language were veiled suggestions of reparations or justice from those who had been party to offences he claimed against himself and his people.
Outrage and grief burned in the hearts of the people, be they nobles, paladins or peasant. Efforts to marshal their forces increased ten-fold and plans were made to return Lordaeron to its rightful rulers.
But among them were those who looked upon the empty throne as an opportunity, were one but ambitious enough to seize it.
Beyond them, were those that saw a new monarch as a source for new beginnings and a glorious rise to power that would forever reshape the Eastern Kingdoms.
Of course, there are those who were beneath notice or needn't be informed. All of them watching from the back woods and mountains as the lands of humanity writhed and congested in the throes of war.
All the while, within the conquered halls of Lordaeron, Frost King Malakk and his followers make ready for the battles that are sure to come.
Sylvanas once again found herself in the company of Lord
Tirathon, this time within Silvermoon's golden walls. The council meeting had been surprisingly brief and adjourned after the missive was presented.
"So," Tirathon asked, "You know better the ways of the inner court than I. What do you expect?"
Sylvanas's frown was hidden by her dark blue hood, "I imagine they will do as they said and reflect on their matter... Before quickly moving to gauge their fellows reactions to best determine their own."
She rubbed her chin, "As to our chances of going to war, it is harder to say. They have a means to beg off it now, but it is on the word rather than the weakness of a troll, which will rankle."
Tirtahon scoffed, "I only trust a troll when they're screaming for my head or over their own death."
Sylvanas was not one to disagree with that sentiment, "As it stands, our efforts to allow piracy and partisans may find themselves pushed back so they can watch the battles unfold... Or war will be declared."
"The troll made things easier for the council with this," Mused the young lord.
"In some ways, though much is still to be determined by matters of reputation and pride. As to which is more likely," She shook her head, "I cannot say."
"If it is not declared, I know some reliable crews," Tirathon mused.
Sylvanas remained silent as they parted ways.
Malakk's missive had arrived at Zul'Aman with all due haste, but its contents was already known, the evening prayers of War Priest Hala'Zhi ensured that much.
However, forewarning did little to change proposition before Zul'jin and the Amani. Which was itself little more than an invitation to take the next step in debates that had been enthralling Zul'Aman since before the war began.
For with war came openings in the enemies guards, with an enemies weakness came opportunities and with those, the chance to avenge injustices.
'
But so too does it present risks,' Zul'jin mused, his ever burning eye and missing arm mere physical reminders of the gulf of grief and shame that roiled eternally in his soul.
'
And not all risks are so clear as an enemies spell,' Zul'jin was all to aware that for all the Amani's will and numbers and strength that they were the juniors in any Alliance with the likes of Zul'drak.
Would the Frost King seek to extend his rule over cousins and kin? Perhaps unlikely, but not impossible. Would they lose sight of their own goals in pursuit of his, or perhaps simply be led to defeat again?
There was much to consider and debate before a decision was made. Which was why priests, chieftains, military officials, and scholars had gathered in the Temple of Ula'Tek near the heart of Zul'Aaman.
Zul'jin kneeled on a comfortable, well-worn mat within the grand and finally refurbished Temple.
All signs of wear and tear upon the grey-stone and faded metals was gone. Every crack had been filled, every broken brick replaced, and every relief had been reformed and shined to perfection. The art of
Kintsugi not lost on the Amani even now.
The resources to do so had been a secondary payment from the Drakkari, materials offered whenever they could not or would not pay the price in Saronite.
Zul'jin found he was pleased with the trade. Finally, Zul'Aman was once again looking like the proud ancestral home of his people that it should be over a fading ruin that hosted a dying nation.
'
There is more work to be done across the capital and forests, but our glorious return to prominence has begun, not with a war cry, but a humble builders hammer strike.' A fitting thing, he thought, for the first true architects of the world.
His thoughts turned to what was hovering behind him, the jade studded visage of his goddess and patron before his remaining eye glanced across the meeting hall. Arrayed along the wide walled chamber were his advisors, and all were looking upon the woman with wild red hair and fiercely curved tusks as she gave her report.
"The Drakkari had secured the glades and were waging war on the capital when I ordered us home. The humans now marshal their armies at the Fallen Gate of
Tal'Kin and would soon present a barrier I could not slip through," Akil'Goun finished, standing at attention.
"I thank you and yours for your exemplary work, Sky Sovereign," Zul'jin intoned. Motioning for her to take a seat at his side as he nursed a small bowl of tea, the ceramic glinting with gold in the places where it had once been cracked.
On his left
Daakara rubbed his chin, "Sending Sky Riders to observe was a wise decision, but what are we to do with this information Warlord and," he tapped his hands, "Malakk's offer?"
Halazzi hissed, "The choice is obvious, we join with Malakk's Legion and send raiders to the south when the humans rally. Pick apart their rear lines and destroy their farms to starve them as they did us!"
"The humans are less of a concern than the Elves,"
Chieftain Zul'Marosh cut in, "And Malakk has not promised us their destruction. Would we be able to compel such aid from him if he does not wish to see them fall?"
Hex_Lord_Malacrass was quick to counter, "With our new weapons we should be sailing upon the holy isle to reclaim them, not concern ourselves with the South until then."
Kel'gash looked speculative, a subtly wicked smirk on his lips, "This could indebt Malakk to us some, for striking at potential foes, especially if we find
proof they sought to join the Alliance in march."
Kazra'jin waved them both off, "You assume too much, we should wait and see what the Elves will do and how the Drakkari fare before we make our decision."
Zul'jin glanced at Akil'Goun, "What would you say the Drakkari's chances are?"
The woman tapped her fingers in thought, "They struck swiftly and fiercely, using great strength, skill and secret weapons to deliver a crushing blow. However, the Alliance are neither fools nor few in number. If the Drakkari fight Lordaeron alone with cunning as well as strength, I would call it an even fight." Her shoulders rolled, rippling muscle on full display as she added, "But with the Alliance as a whole bearing down upon them? I cannot envision victory. Not without aid."
"That could bode ill for us," Zul'jin muttered, "I doubt the Elves will move given it took us setting their forests ablaze in the Second War to truly act. Perhaps they have learned, but ego clings to their bones as much as magic."
He placed his drinking bowl down on the oaken table before him and sighed. "Though my heart yearns to see the holy lands reclaimed, I would caution against reckless actions."
Otembe raised his hand to speak and Zul'jin waved him on.
"Thank you, Emperor," he said with a bow. "And though I dare not question your wisdom of strategy, I must remind you that our secret weapon is waiting and ready to be deployed. With it, even the accursed elves Sunwell barrier shall shatter."
Malacrass tapped his own bowl with a long fingernail, "I concur, the Saronite is a powerful weapon, but the longer it is known the more the elves have time to understand it, risking the loss of its potency."
The room broke into furious back and forth debate for some time, Zul'jin letting the discussion wash over him as he looked upon the twin moons above, the sensation of paper beneath his aging fingers as he recalled Malakk's words.
'
He seeks to rule the humans, he does not understand what we have lost, yet he holds to the old ways better than many I have known.' Dismissing the thoughts of the lost
Smolderthorn and
Firetree, Zul'jin drew his conclusions and beckoned for quiet and made ready his proclamation.
Holding Malakk's letter for all to see Zul'jin spoke, his sharp tones echoing across the courtyard, swift and smooth as snake scales.
"Were any Drakkari to be given these terms by another, they would no doubt find them fair..." Her curled his fingers around the paper sealing it in his hands, "But we are not the Drakkari, we have not ruled one united nation for ten thousand years with no fear of invaders, we are the Amani!"
He rose to his feet, "We have seen our nation toppled and lands stolen. Temples burn and homes torn asunder. Our ancestors placed in chains while our children were hunted like animals and babes burned in their cribs!"
A fierce roar rose up from the crowds outside.
Zul'jin pressed on, "We shall not let Malakk's mercy risk defining our glorious reclamation and thus we cannot bind ourselves to his words, nor can we risk the Drakkari's defeat and retreat."
Malacrass looked eager, wanting, "Then Emperor-"
Zul'jin slashed his hand, "But we shall not race to reclaim the Holy Land. For though my heart aches to see it returned in all its resplendent glory, the lessons of the Second War were harsh and I would be a fool to ignore them. For all that we might claim, there is no denying the Elves are canny and may well take the Holy Land before we can turn its power against them. But, do not lose hope."
He leaned forward, the practiced image of an intimate friend with a mischievous scheme radiating from his being.
"Instead we shall entertain his Speakers but keep them at a distance, while using the humans distraction to our advantage." He drew his bladed-Tonfa and motioned out the temple doors, "South we shall sail, returning the Tribes to the fold and ensuring our control of the Eastern Coast cannot be challenged by humans, elves or even the Drakkari."
"We shall raid the Dwarves and draw out the Elves to fight on our terms, all the while our secret weapon shall wait in the wings! Scouts shall be deployed and prayers offered, that we might see the Drakkari's fate. So that when the time to strike is nigh, our blow lands like lightning!"
A cheer echoed as he continued, high and holy, "We shall not bind ourselves tot he Drakkari but them to us. We shall let no other dictate terms to the accursed elves but we, not the Drakkari, the orc and especially not the Zandalari."
His voice rose high, his bladed glinted in the moonlight.
"For this is our land and only we decide its fate!"
The crowd roared, his advisors rose in cheer and the plan was set.
The Amani would join the war, but on their own terms.
Kel'thuzad watched his old friend and ally,
Baron_Rivendare from a comfortable seat in the man's private offices overlooking Stratholme's richest district.
The nobles neatly tied ponytail flicked as he glanced over his shoulder and tossed the letter to the desk. "I take it your magic let you gleam the missive's meaning before it passed into my hands?"
"Naturally, it made for interesting reading," Kel'thuzad offered neutrally.
Rivendare chuckled, "It seems you made the right decision leaving your manor to pay me a visit when the creatures arrived. Whoever would have thought it, the capital lost to barbarians of all things?"
Kel'thuzad idly ran a hand over his cats back as he answered, "It would appear so. In truth I merely wanted to avoid what I assumed would be a great excess of noise and nuisances, but this… This is interesting."
Rivendare quirked his brow and smirked, "Oh? Hoping this troll will strike down the Kirin Tor for their cruel treatment of your perhaps?"
"The thought of those arrogant enough to banish me, cast down by such base creatures does amuse me somewhat, yes. Though the prospect of the libraries and holding cells of the city being cast open for I and I alone does hold something more than such mundane musings." His gaze sharpened as he added, "But I assume you have your own schemes."
"Indeed, I do," Rivendare answered, moving to the main window that overlooked the city, hands clasped behind his back, soft silken suit near glimmering in the morning light. "Stratholme is the largest city in the land, an equal to the capital, a hub of trade, nobility and wealth; as well as secured far from the front and an able bastion against the chaos of war."
"You seek to become the grand general of Lordaeron's armies… Or perhaps to make this the acting capital," Kel'Thuzad grinned, "Or something far grander than that."
Rivendare spun around, smirking, "Do you think a crown would suit me my friend?"
"I think you have the look of a king," Kel'thuzad offered diplomatically, "But you would be far from the only claimant and this is a city of merchants, not soldiers."
"Alas, you are correct," Rivendare said, taking his seat at the fine oak desk. "Were this a different time I could harken to the days of old, before this land was ruled by Lordaeron. But so many Westerners live here now and the likes of
Saidan_Dathrohan are but debased dogs before Teranas and the Church. They'd have no stomach for independence," He rubbed his sharp chin, "Nor do I much care for being a neighbor to a troll."
Kel'thuzad shrugged, "Mercenaries come easily in war and the capital will need to be restored by someone. The financial hub of Lordaeron restoring the capital would grant you much capital, though not as much prestige as winning the war."
"This is true, but if played carefully and I make myself integral I or even my son could be in a most opportune position, especially for a worthwhile marriage with little Callia."
Kel'thuzad quirked his brow, "You think the royal family still alive?"
"It is a theory, a hope and yet despairing thought, but I feel it is one with merit, as the troll only makes note of killing Teranas but not of destroying his line. Perhaps it is a mere oversight," he shrugged, "But it is worth considering, especially if Arthas can be culled. Of course, it would be best were I to know for certain…"
Taking the man's significant look for what it was, Kel'thuzad hummed. "I do have some experience with infiltration, and I would hardly be lying if I told the troll I wished to see Dalaran rendered to dust."
"So, you will do it?" Rivendare chuckled, "I would appoint you the new court sorcerer, grant you all you could ever dream of if you do so my friend."
"I will consider it," Kel'thuzad said, "I do long to see Dalaran broken and I doubt you could abide me of that even if this plan were to succeed."
"Perhaps," Riverdare said, with a wave of his hands, "But is revenge really worth serving a troll?"
He shrugged, "Perhaps, perhaps not, I would abhor committing to anything before I see these invaders "mighty legions" for myself, it may indeed be best to simply surrender or adopt a neutral stance. Mayhaps the princess lives and I can whisk her away, or they can only be defeated with knowledge I would funnel to you and you alone."
"You speak wisely my friend; shall we shake on it?" Rivendare said, offering his hand.
Reaching out and taking it, Kel'thuzad nodded, "Indeed, I assure you Rivendare I shall do all I can to aid us both from within the halls of Lordaeron."
They clasped hands, eyes twinkling with mirth.
The sight of
Mardenholde_Keep poking up from its mountain valley home had scarcely ever been such a welcome sight to
Tirion Fordring. Eager to see his family and home, he egged his mount on, "Hya!"
"My lord, I do not think they can go any faster!" called his apprentice, over the strained screeching of their mounts.
"They are fine and sturdy as any steed,
Barthilas and just as eager as we for a true meal I'd wager!" He called back.
They soared over the green laden glade, the town of blurring by beneath them as their mounts reared back, wings beating against the air as they came in for a hasty landing. His Gryphon nearly doubled over, its entire body heaving and a quiet crow of relief escaping its beak as Tirion dismounted.
"Good work," He commended, ruffling the creatures feathers and motioning to the stable hands, "Find them food and plenty of water, I must see my family!" with that he made his way away from the stables and around the grand, squared off Keep he called home.
Word of his arrival had clearly preceded him for his young bride
Karandra was awaiting him alongside
Lorik.
"My darling," he crooned, embracing Karandra as his bride hugged him and whispered, "We heard about the capital, its awful."
Patting her back he answered, "I know my dear, we shall put it all to right soon, but where is
Taelan?"
Lorik saluted, his bristly red beard on full display with his helmet in his hands and answered, "The young lord asked to assist us and so
Durgen has let him join a hunt."
"That will be good for him, and how goes the host?" He asked, hugging his wife to his side as Barthilas joined them.
Lorik nodded, "We are not wanting for volunteers milord, be they as warrior, seamstresses or lumberjacks. We have already met our assigned quota for lumber and other supplies, and both Durgen and I have been overseeing the militias training and the preparation of the host.
"Good men, the both of you, had any chance to do battle with our foe?" He added idly inspecting their increasingly fortified Keep walls.
Lorik shook his head, "None milord, they seem to be keeping close to the temple and so our mountain patrols have nary seen hide nor hair of the filthy beasts."
Tirion nodded, brow furrowing, "Do we know how fares the Monastery?"
Karanda answered for them, "No new escapees since the first handful arrived, besides that, we have no word."
Tirion shook his head, chest deflating, "Then we must see something done about this. I cannot let this matter slide."
Barthilas looked stricken, "Milord, did the Lord Commander not order a bulwark?"
Tirion huffed, "Look around you my lad, the mountains themselves are our bulwark, the South needs to be better fortified, but this is our home terrain and the Church our holy site. I would be a poor Paladin were I to leave it in the hands of our foes."
Barthilas swallowed, "I do not protest this milord, the only thing worse than a troll is an orc, I long to see these beasts driven before our blades as you do but is it safe to move so rashly?"
That made him scowl, moustache bristling, "I would remind you to keep a respectable tongue when speaking to your superior as a Paladin and lord of the lands you walk upon. young lad."
Barthilas bowed hastily, "I apologize milord, I meant no disrespect."
"He has a point, doesn't he, Tirion?" Karanda whispered.
"My love, please leave the strategizing to the soldiers, besides," He sent each of them a significant look. "I am no fool who plans to rush headlong into enemy arrows, but nor will I remain passive while the Lords and Ladies of the East drag their feet. If we can reclaim the Monastery this war hall be half won and the Lights Power fill our people's hearts."
Gesturing to the West he spoke, "We shall begin with scouts, mountaineers and Gryphon Riders. They shall guide our fiercest and finest through the paths to strike their mountain guards down. This shall be our opening maneuver, laying bare the temple that we may lay low the occupiers, raising the prisoners to join our Host and casting out these invaders!"
He could hear a cheer echoing from the people, many had stopped to heed him it seemed and he cheered, "That is the way my fellows, dedicate yourselves to your task with zeal and we she see this foe defeated be the solstice!"
Another cheer as the people began racing around in haste, as he turned to his fellows and added, "Come, let us discuss this inside as we await, Taelan."
Caer Darrow was silent as the grave.
Lord_Alexei_Barov assumed that such a horrified silence would be reigning throughout the lands now that their monarchs no longer ruled.
"Deposed by a troll warlord, the shame of it all," he muttered from his fire-side seat, a glass of brandy in one hand as he looked over the letter again.
"Indeed, such a strange way for us to find out though, no?" His wife, his dear
Lady_Illucia_Barov mused as she poured herself a glass of wine. They had sent the servants away so they could talk in private, behind magically reinforced walls.
"You are correct my dear. Strange indeed, that a troll of all things would attempt diplomacy, but not all together unwelcome, it gives one time to think and plan."
Illucia sent him a pleased smirk as she took her own cushioned seat across from him, murmuring, "And just what might you be planning my husband?"
Alexi shrugged, "Who can say, these are uncharted waters after all, so many options."
"Indeed," she chuckled, "The royal family fallen, the capital in the hands of savages and offers for neutrality, war or absorption. No doubt most of the noble houses and the Church shall march to our fallen monarchs cause."
"Many may indeed, though we both know others have suffered much with unyielding taxes to care for the orcs," he spat, before grinning. "They may just lack the funds to levy a host."
"But the rest of the Alliance may not?" she countered, eyes twinkling, "A family of our esteem could garner much if we sent our own to fight on the front lines."
"Indeed, we could, is that what you want my dear?" He asked, before taking another sip of burning brandy.
"Perhaps, but perhaps not, we are so close to the capital after all, and if they are so fierce to have taken it so quickly," she mock gasped.
"You speak wisely, maybe neutrality would be best, at least until the rest of the Alliance is ready for war."
"The Alliance is not what it once was of course," She countered, tapping her chin. "Alterac is gone, Gilneas hides behind a wall, the Quel'Dorei dance in their trees. All the while so many of our own are deep in the South and East, bordering on bankrupt or haven't even recouped their strength."
"Though we cannot say some will not return to the Alliance, if only to keep themselves from being the next target," he mused.
"You speak the truth, but then, will it be enough?" Illucia mused, "I never thought the capital to fall in a single day after all, this Frost King must have quite a force."
"A fair question, but if they are so mighty would they seek allies at all. Thus, I am left wondering; would they be able to win without… internal assistance?" He added.
"Jandice is well regarded in Dalaran, but she knows where her loyalties lie, as do we," his wife said.
"And where is that my love?"
She smirked in that way that made a pleased shiver run up his spine.
"Why, wherever it is needed for our family to thrive."
"Of that we are a mind, but then, what to do with this?" He waved the letter, "That barracks of
Regional Defenders, Teranas foisted upon us will expect an answer."
His wife's frown was well worn, "Just be glad none of his pet paladins were sent with them or we would be under martial law already."
She tilted her head, humming in thought, "Perhaps we should call Bartimus? I am sure we can think up an excuse to try and open a portal to the palace. A hidden code or layered message, just to give us a chance to look upon this Frost King for ourselves and measure his merits."
"You suggest we take a great risk," He then chuckled, "But then, those can pay off the best, can they not?"
"My intuition has never been wrong before," she hummed.
"It's settled then," Alexi said, pushing himself up, "We can give the Defenders some busy work and arrange a message back to this Frost King for a meeting to see if he is worth supporting."
Illucia nodded, "We can arrange an extraction with Jandice and claim to have been spying on the trolls if worst comes to worst."
"Good idea, you get to the letters, I shall see to the troops. Alterac is pleasant this time of year, is it not?"
They shared a laugh as he strode out of the lounge and his wife took to the desk.
One way or the other, the Barov family would thrive in what was to come, of that they had to be certain.
Winterax Hold was not a grand place, but nor was it to be underestimated.
Built on a raised plateau and backed against the high and unyielding valley walls, with a steep drop on nearly all sides. Crafted from grey bricks into a muli-layered stronghold, lined with towers on each wall and sturdy homes within. At the pinnacle sat the Temple of
Quetz'lun the cunning hunter and swift Shepard of souls.
Outside the walls and stretching into the valley proper was a vast array of yurts, each overseeing their own farms, be it yaks, pig or the few plants that could be cultivated so high.
It was a comforting, pleasing sight to be sure, rustic and domestic perhaps, but on the surface, peaceful and sedate; but one could never forget that furious battle was never far in such a sparsely hospitable valley. Still, the peaceable aura was a stark contrast to the ongoing debate within the temple.
Korrak wasn't an old troll quite yet, save perhaps by the standards of a Dire Troll. But he had sparred with Zul'jin when the man was grown and he a youth, so there was little denying the yellow tinged beard on his orange skin was losing its luster.
He sat at the head of the tribes family heads, be they
hunter and
Mystic, or of the spiritual caste, with the
Seers and
Shadow Hunter; Despites all of whom still debating, Korrak could tell the wind of words was calming.
"Yes, the Drakkari may not understand what they offer, or the risks. But our goddess sees wisdom in joining our cause to theirs, and with dragons to our name we could rule this valley unopposed!" Argued Ganli the Seer.
Rezrelek scowled, "None would deny our patron's wit or willingness to aid us, but not all our neighbors have been our foes, no? And the valley has been good to us-"
"If one ignored the Frostwolves cantankerousness," Sniped Banlan, the Hunter rubbing his healed arm.
"Competition has always been fierce," Counselled Korrak. "The Frostwolves present a new neighbor and rival, but are no different than the
Wildpaw or
Icewing, who have often quarreled with us."
"Quarreled, yes," Banlan noted. "But talking can sometimes happen, but the Frostwolves keep themselves apart from us, from all and the Drakkari works with Orcs, I dislike this."
Korrak rumbled, "I will not defend their manner, besides, maybe Malakk would find a use for them?"
"This sounds like surrender, did we not wish to leave the quarreling of the empire behind?"
Rezrelek sighed.
"I would expect more fire from one of our heroes," Hissed Ganli, who was quickly shrugged off.
"I fight when I must, for us to survive, I do not see a need for so much of our blood to be shed and our lands changed, and that is if, if, these Drakkari win."
Korrak's neck cracked as he rolled his head from side to side, before saying, "We have hidden long and well in this valleys, under our patrons protection. Now she wishes us to aid the Drakkari, I think there is merit in this. If they treat us fairly and we fight cannily, even the Drakkari's defeat may mean little to us in the long run."
Rezrelek arched his brow at that, but it was the elderly Mystic Gileken who spoke. "The humans would struggle to tell us apart from the Drakkari. Convince some neighbors to join us and we can cause chaos when the Alliance marches by."
"If we are careful, and secure our territories before we strike, I think we should consider this. But-" Korrak added, seeing several of the wary faces who Rezrelek had spoken for looking mutinous. "I would meet with the Drakkari's Speaker, take their measures and ensure our fair treatment first."
That seemed to have quieted the whispers of contention and Korrak nodded, "Then we shall meet with their Speaker. As to our neighbors, have them watched closely, they may be willing to aid us, or perhaps not, but we must be on guard."
With the call to action made, all that was left to do now was wait, and pray.
Kael'thas had always like Antonidas, not just for his brilliant mind of calm demeanor, but for his taste. the Archmages study was a perfect example, perfectly rounded and resting atop the Violet Citdael where the confluence of Ley Lines was strongest.
Crystals of purified mana drifted in silver ringlets outside, carrying with them an array of intricate enchantments. While the interior was a brilliant example of magically folded space, a vast array of books, idling experiments and arcane script adorning the walls, but all artfully arranged.
The bearded humans, robes blowing gently in the breeze stood upon the balcony, a pipe in hand, "A Prince Kael'thas, please join me, I was just taking in the morning light."
Kael'thas nodded, coming up to the mans side on the gently lavender touched, tiled balcony and joined him at looking out across the rising lake. In days of 'old' it had at times come to surround Dalaran itself. But the growing city's need for farmland had forced them to raise the foundations and rearrange the coast as best they could.
'
Of course that is not where his gaze is truly drawn,' Kael'thas mused, not able to make out Lordaeron's raised plateau without a tele-scoping spell and lacking the desire to do so.
"Do you wish to be left with your thoughts, my friend?" Kael'thas asked.
Tapping his pipe along the railing, ash disintegrating as it passed the defensive barriers, Antonidas shook his head. "No, I was never one to mourn when there was something practical to be done; I merely wished to stretch after a long night and reflect a moment."
"I take it the boy is still proving troublesome?" Kael'thas mused, as they strode back into the smooth, stone chamber.
"
Thule Ravenclaw is a bright lad, too bright by half I would say," Antonidas chuckled. "So happy to be the center of attention, he wishes to contact his king, and seek permissions to drag it all out."
Kael'thas snorted, "All while seeing what concessions he can extract from Dalaran for the use of his keep." Kael'thas shook his head, "We should simply move to occupy it, better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, not that I think Greymane should care."
Antonidas sat down at a small, almost breakfast-nook like pavilion and motioned for Kael'thas to join him as a tray of fruits and tea materialized between them. "I did hint that some may feel that way, even if we voted against such acts, there is no reason to give Greymane a pretext for invasion after all."
"He has not the strength to challenge the Alliance," Kael'thas countered once again, even as he took up an orange slice for himself.
Antonidas was mixing berries with that yoghurt concoction he liked so much, his tone coolly methodical. "Only if we defeat these troll quickly, which may not be the case, and whatever happens the faster we forsake our standards, the weaker the Alliance becomes."
Kael'thas sighed, toying with a strawberry, "So you four argued. Whatever the case, do you foresee it being a problem?"
Antonidas swallowed his mouthful and shook his head, "No, I have Arugal speaking with him today; hopefully his fellow countrymen shall resolve this matter in its entirety. But, I assume you wished to speak with me?"
Kael'thas nodded, "It was swifter this way," he said, drawing a letter from his gold and white robes, "A letter from Jaina's father, requesting she be sent home should war approach the city."
Antonidas took the letter resolutely, "An understandable request, and there was something else I assume?"
Kael'thas grimaced, appetite quite diminished, "Arcanist Doan of Lordaeron was most distressed by our agents inability to evacuate the royal family, and our unwitting inaction."
Antonidas frowned, letting silver utensils clink against glass, "I assume he was informed the Nether-ways between Dalaran and the palace were obstructed?"
Kael'thas nodded, "He was, and through that we finally learned how this was the case. I even checked my own sources with the private libraries of Quel'Thalas to be sure."
Antonidas's bushy eyebrow rose, "Historians, are we to see the return or trolls wielding
Arcanum?"
Kael'thas tsked, "Hardly, though this may be worse. I believe that while trolls fight this war, their hands are guided by Nerubians, some of the worlds first true arcanists."
Antonidas clasped his hands, a small frown adorning his aged features, "That would explain much if all I have heard of their legends is true. We shall need to gather our sources and ensure we are not taken by surprise again. Whether the Nerubians lead or are led by these Drakkari, their support could disrupt one of the Alliance's greatest advantages."
Kael'thas nodded, but couldn't resist the rejoinder, "I doubt true arcanists would be led by trolls anywhere," he raised a hand quickly, "But I agree we must explore all options. I shall gather the resources I reference before the next meeting."
"Thank you, once we have a stronger base to build our spell-work off, we may be able to bypass their defenses, or at the very least lock their casters down in the capital."
"A wise idea, let us meet again soon, Antonidas."
"Al diel shala, Kael'thas."
Aiden_Perenolde rubbed his stubbled chin as he looked over the fine script from the depth of his cave dwelling.
It had been carried by a bird and addressed to
Lord Agrovane's manor near
Tarren Mill. Only to fall short of its destination by a day thanks to an eager hunter looking to help feed their camp and inconvenience the Alliance as a fringe benefit.
'
Others will likely be arriving at Fallrook Estate and Soutshore's Magistrate, perhaps we should move up the date of his execution?' Aiden mused, before dismissing the thought. He had much grander schemes to be thinking on.
"Aliden, Beve," He called gently, and like magic his children bled into the flickering light of his candle, looking intrigued.
"Yes father?" Beve asked.
"Does Falconcrest still have any messenger birds we can make use of I wonder?" He asked.
Aliden scoffed, "Only his favorites, the one's he won't let us eat."
"Well hopefully he will let us borrow one to send a message, because if this is right, then I have discovered our path back to power."
Nodding they turned, his son biting back over his shoulder, "I hope this goes better than your last plan, father."
"Well, it could hardly go any worse," Beve chuckled as they disappeared into the darkness, Aiden's mind already turning over the information.
'Even if we do not join this Frost King, in the chaos of war, bandits thrive!'
From his perch upon the coast of Lordamere Lake, beneath Alterac's mountains, Grom Hellscream rested his chin on his hands and frowned at the distant, gleaming city of Lordaeron; finally fallen, but by hands other than an Orcs.
"Chieftain, do you have a plan?"
Grom turned to face his followers, their eyes gleaming as his did, reminding him to move, to force the blood through his veins and push his weary body into action, lest he fall like the others.
"Yes, the beginnings of one, but we will need to move swiftly, rouse the camp and ready a runner to meet with the Frostwolves."
He glanced back over his shoulder, a small smirk forming on his lips, "An opportunity has been presented to us, and we'd be fools not to grasp it, so let this world once again know the cry of the Warsong clan!"
Tal'Vass had always been too land-like for
Captain Hooktusk.
Oh sure, the Western mountains ran along the coastline and the Shadowglen loved to fish and hunt their foes along the waves, so she liked them better than the smug Gurubashi or Jinth'Ali.
But still, the mountains were high and dry and almost everything save the some of the farms and dams was underground or woven into the rock, where she couldn't even feel her long pink braids be rustled by the winds.
Still, one couldn't deny they were good hosts.
Pulling a Hookah away from her bright blue lips, she drank in the taste, "Ah, I haven't had a flavor like this in an age."
Krag'jin pulled the silver touched metal pipe from his mouth, tapping it against the whicker arm rests of his chair. "Are the Drakkari so lacking fine spice, captain?"
She snorted, "They have fine things to be sure," She said, motioning vaguely at the ornate and richly carved Hookah sitting between them. "But even their magical forests cannot replicate the variety seen in the South."
They sat across from one another, totally alone because Hooktusk insisted, if only to get away from Malakk's assigned advisor. The troll was competent but too damned nervous and pestering for her liking, an it wasn't as though she wasn't welcome.
"Something to consider them if the Drakkari are staying, hm?" He mused, looking over his rounded stone walls, adorned with engravings and art, scrolls or steel, old and new.
"You sound bitter," She offered back, taking another puff and letting the orange smoke billow from he nostrils.
"More vexed," Krag'jin said, "If we had known they were to stay... Well things might be different now."
Hooktusk knew better than to pry and so said, "That sounds to me like you are agreeing."
"Tentatively," Krag'jin said, tongue swift and sharp. "There are matters of what we are offered, not wholly outlined in his missive and we must act quickly, no?"
"Indeed we must," She said, sinking deeper into the cushioned chair, "Which is why I am to secure your support, through almost any means necessary."
"Almost?" Snorted the forest troll.
"Almost," She repeated, "Malakk's of a more merciful mind than many, he won't care for it if humans are slaughtered in droves and packs or driven out just for jollies."
Krag'jin waved her off, "I care little if the humans remain, so long as our rule over the lands is returned, to walk and weave through the woods again. To build in our own forests and live free of fear of invasion... Yes, I would accept the humans here for that."
"Sounds to me like we have an agreement, ya?" She sat up and flicked her dark blue captains hat to her head. "Cos we'll be wanting your help with Fenris Keep."
"Fenris?" He mused before shaking his head, "In time, that land is rule by a human name Ravenclaw. He's Gilnean too and while the Alliance may secure his island for their counter attack they won't do so swiftly."
"So you want us to hit somewhere else first? Cos I must say, once we're done here, Malakk wants us making a blockade, so we can't hover coastbound forever."
"You won't need to," Krag'jin smirked, "And in fact this will help you. I want
Baron Silverlaine dead and his keep in our hands. With that, we can move more freely to secure Fenris Isle and provide a clear path to Dalaran from our woods and coast. A good deal yes?"
Hooktusk's throat rumbled in a rather goblin way, she never did pick up the Drakkari's penchant for clicks.
"I think there is potential, but Malakk may want to offer surrender first."
Krag'jin flicked one of his long, pointy ears and said, "You can offer surrender, you serve Malakk after all. I do not."
"No, or not yet?" She teased.
"Let us see how softly he speaks to me in the coming days," Krag'jin waved his pipe, "But whatever the case, I can secure Silverpine and offer my aid. If you aid us first."
"How do you intend to hold the rest of it?" She mused, "I don't want ya'll getting distracted now."
Krag'jin chuckled, "The lords here are hated. The king hides behind his wall. The South may seem safe, but its path is perilous. As to the humans," he shrugged, "I know more of them than most. I know of the
Pyrewood Council and I know
Harvest-witches who may welcome a change;
Seraphaine is a reliable woman with little love for her king."
Taking another spicy puff, Hooktusk grinned, "I am told Greymane was among those who ordered the Speakers deaths, so Malakk cannot be too made at me I am thinking."
"We have an agreement then?" Krag'jin asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
"Send some of your
giant sea turtles the lakes way and I shall ensure the keep, its lord and their
Commander Springvale fall before us."
She reached across the low table and over the brimming light of their shared Hook they clasped arms, a promise made.
Priscilla_Ashvane watched Daelan as the man loomed over the map table. His arms spread wide, expression coldly furious as he had been since dramatically torching the missive from Lordaeron.
"Whispered words tell us Gilneas sees fit to leave us to our own devices. The invaders have not yet approached the cape and may not do so, instead our best guess is they are marshalling their strength. Thus, for now we must treat the northern coast as beyond our reach and focus on landing our forces at Hillsbrad to join with-
Duke Falrevere's fist crashed against the table, scattering miniatures and tokens as he roared, "I refuse! Those wretched mongrels cost me a dock and no less than a third of my trading fleet, yet you want to let them be!?"
"Mind your tongue, Falrevere,"
Lord_Arthur_Waycrest snapped, "Do not forget you were granted a seat at this war council as a courtesy, not as a right."
Falrevere's sneer spoke volumes, his son and daughter looking ready to draw swords on the matter, before Daelan cut through the haze.
"The trolls have agents beneath waves in those mutated sharks, while Gnomeragan's navy has fallen into disrepair."
"Do you doubt our sailors and Tidesages?"
Lord_Stormsong spoke, mock offence tinging his every slippery word.
"He speaks wisely," Falrevere ground out, "We can sail circles around those bloated vessels, if you would only let us."
"I. Was not. Finished," Daelin ground out, the map crinkling beneath his hands, as he muttered, "Dragons, they also have dragons, while our own areal units are sparse or in play elsewhere."
He lifted his head high and motioned to the Western Coast, "Despite the forces they have arrayed, their flagships strange armor and high cannons, they refused to approach our coast. This makes it clear they fear challenging us in our own seas, so they will likely create a blockade instead."
James Ashvane hummed, "Would sending forces to land then not be playing into their hands? If they fear us, surely we can best them."
"We might win," Daelin noted coldly, "But even a victory under these circumstances would be devastating, leaving Kul'Tiras laid bare for pirates or Gilnean intrusion. As it is, they can do little harm from their ships now, so it is best to drive them out of the land first, then harry them to the ocean floor as they retreat."
Priscilla glanced to her husband who rested a hand on his dueling blade for but a moment, then stilled, unwilling to move, not yet at least.
'
James if we do not act soon, Daelin's cowardice will destroy us all!'
"Your defeat by the dragons stains your mind, Daelin," Falrevere spat, "Perhaps one more confident-"
He leapt back with a curse at the flash of Daelan's blade, "Never speak to me as such again lest you wish to face me in a duel."
Daelin's blade was struck by
Jessi_Falrevere's own, "Level a blade at my father again and see what comes of it!?"
Arthur looked ready to draw his blade, and Falrevere's son Morgrann reached for his war hammer, threats beginning to spill from their lips.
"Enough all of you!" Katherine snapped, "Our enemy is out there, not here with us."
"Tell that to the man who drew his sword on our family," Morgrann groused.
"Tempers are running high for us all, perhaps a recess to clear our heads?" Priscilla offered.
Falrevere scoffed and marched away, jacket billowing, "You will be lucky to see my household offer aid with that fool in charge!"
"We will speak with them," James offered companionably, Pricilla sending Katherine a friendly smile before following her husband, mind awhirl.
'
A foreigner like Falrevere could never rule Kul'Tiras, but if we are able to secure his support and that of Stormsong, we can challenge Daelin for stewardship of the fleet and give the Duke a cushy position to sooth his ego.'
It would most certainly become a duel of will and blades, but Priscilla was confident she and James could deal with the broken Proudmoore's.
'
Their best days are long behind them, while ours are just beginning!'
The letter had been tossed into the fire in short order, Galen watching with an uncertain heart as the paper turned to ash.
His father was impassive before the flames and Prince Muradin quietly contemplative, it was painful contrast to their earlier cheer.
Repressing a sigh, Galen made to join his father, hand reaching out to clap him on the shoulder as the man had sometimes done him, when he was inconsolable and not even fury could be drawn from him.
"Fa-"
His father whirled around like a storm, grasping his arm and snarling, "If you so much as suggest we treat with trolls, the animals that killed Teranas. I, I will-"
"Never suggest such a thing father," Galen hissed, "Kill them all I say."
His father did not release him, eyes still wild and desperate for a fight when Muradin thankfully cut the tension.
"A toast," offered the Dwarf quietly, eying the feuding father and son with a coolness that suited his frigid home. "To a great man and to a worthy promise. The Wise King shall be avenged by us, no doubt, but let us remember his grand life as friends."
His father sagged, "Yes, let's, then on the morrow we march," he dropped down to the table and motioned for Galen to join then.
Ignoring the stinging of his arm, Galen did just that, grief and hope now absent as his mind clicked and whirred like some cold clock, the time ticking down ever faster.
Across the land and seas, word spread, schemes were hatched and armies rose.
Within his palace, Frost King Malakk stands overlooking the royal gardens, his words to the his attaché, a
young half trollish woman, with dark blue hair and tan skin, are quiet and firm.
"Summon Queen Lianne, I would speak with her."
___________________________________________________________
NOTES:
Well this took me awhile, seriously I had to comb through the next 3 chapters and write a ton of new scenes for this one to properly explore the setting and cast, so I hope it proved engaging. In many ways this is Moments in War 2, electric Boogaloo, but I needed to start setting stuff up for the future which was just sort of 'introduced' in the initial draft.
As it is, the Winter War arc is probably the longest arc and has the most expansive range of focal characters and ongoing storylines, so I am likely gonna have to adjust how I tell the story to try and keep everything coherent and restructure what's been written in the draft to better keep it all inline XD
Regardless, next chapter things will be a bit more focused now that most of the players are on the board. Also it was news to me Fenris Keep belonged to Gilneas, but it works out and more to the point does line up with their naming conventions, so huzzah XD Also thank you to that one reviewer
@Mook who suggested I use Imgur!
I tried to place each scene consecutively from the North to the South, mostly just so there'd be some kind of through-line in terms of location and also time.
As always, thanks for reading, any feedback, questions or comments are most welcome!
