A Captain Of The Blue Crest
-1-
A normal, sunny day was what he (and the company) expected on a deployment to Southshore, however, he received quite the complete opposite...
The rain beated on his armour like a volley of rifles, causing a dreadful noise to the ones in earshot and also soaked him to the skin. No matter how many prayers he had grumbled within the hours, the rain did not show any signs of fatigue from its continuous battering; the wraith-like grey clouds like ominous heads of warhammers in the sky ever blotting out the touch of the sun.
He was, however issued a 'raincoat' for his troubles, but it did barely anything... probably thanks to the idiotic man he knew as the 'quartermaster' who carelessly mistakened it for a winter parade overcoat. His stocky build combined with a gigantic 'lump' on his stomach usually caused a rupture of laughter in the ranks during roll call, which was quickly beaten down usually by the strict NCOs.
What was more somewhat 'droll' to him was his tendency to loose himself in thoughts and therefore barricade his body from the ever-changing world. He slowly became aware of himself. He was standing in a quiet market place with his head propped down, his hands freely hanging by his sides and his sword and board tightly strapped to his belt and back respectively. Not only that, but also he held a rank of a sergeant with mudane duties as a ranker.
"A sergeant... heh..." he quietly smirked to himself.
"Hey." A hand tapped on his shoulder. He turned around to find two lax green eyes trained on him through a helmet. Falric gingerly twisted his body to face the person, shuffling his feet lightly. "James?" His mouth slowly stretched open and made a child-like sound. James, how could he forget. He was the same-aged ranker that he had served with through the Second War years, right from the arrival of Anduin Lothar to the Siege of the Capital.
"Its the helmet that gave you slowly wits, isn't it?" James visibly raised a brow, somewhat noticable through the helmet and its shade.
"Come on, lets get to a bit of shade." Falric nudged his head to a vacant space in the marketplace, covered by an overhanging piece of house which barely held off the sideways coming rain. They both slowly made their way to the patch, removing their helmets in unison when they were secured.
James' head was not exactly kept well, obviously identified as his brown mane was vaguely hanging loose in an unorganized manner (which usually got in the way of slapping headgear on). Alongside that, he had an overgrowing forest of brown which barely curved around his mouth, what was more disturbing, however that his skin was leather rather than actual skin. One could almost say that he was asymmetrical to Falric.
After strapping their helmets onto their belts, they simply exchanged mutual looks at eachother in a companionable silence admist the deluge from the sky.
Falric soon broke the silence as he propped himself against the stone wall and crossed his arms. "So is it true that two litres of blue blood will come to Southshore?" He asked with a raised brow and a slight grin.
"What, those two lollygagging youths?" James merrily chuckled, despite his atmosphere and placed two hearty hands on his girdle and gave a smile. "Join up the Royal Guard to be sent to a quiet harbour, sounds fairly legit, doesn't it?" A sound escaped from Falric, almost a grin plastering on his face.
James gave a short nod. "And, that is how James and Falric lost their ranks for forgetting the names of royalty. A-Arthur and Jen-Jena?"
"You, sir," Falric grinned. "are dead in the Marshal's book, for real, unlike me."
"Spill it out before you sentence me to a lifetime of mess duties." James tapped his foot lightly with a brow heightened.
"Arthas and Jaina, you stupid bastard; and what, a bit of fireworks accompanied by a pint of long, dull speeches by the mayor about the glory of great Lordaeron and beyond? Highly likely." A scoff resonated over the rain, and they both chuckled in unison.
xxx
The next day appeared to be a perfect blessing from royalty as the sun shone high in the young morning. The soaked ground turned soon to dry and the birds freely chirped around Southshore. The populace was more busy than the day of the deluge in their normal morning routine of simply collecting breakfast or shuffling to work.
What really did rouse the commoners was slow-witted rumours about royalty arriving to the quiet port town. They all did cheer and hastily shuffled to make preparations (although careful not to wake up others), from free-flowing banners of good will to bewildering tunes being prepared for the arrival, all did work hard.
The blaring instrument known as the 'bugle' was usually cursed by most soldiers, for waking them from their slumber abruptly and shattering sweet, nonviolence featured dreams.
"By the - " An invisible horror leapt from the outside of the barracks and sprinted to the soldiers' quarters and into the ears of slumbering creatures.
Falric, had just realized that he'd woken up with his first words being an attempted curse, his head throbbing with pain, probably from recoilling from the dreaded sound.
A rap on the door resonated through the slits of the barred oak, accompanied with a familiar voice of the company captain. "Up and about, sleepy heads." A thick voice slowly slithered into the soldiers' ears.
"Yes sir." They all gingerly replied in succession and they all rised up for the day.
"And be on your best manners, we've got blue bloods in town." The captain paced off audibly.
xxx
The still sleepy guards were alerted at the sound of whinnying of horses and low chatter. Falric, with his head hung down to the cobble and posture almost... impeccable, slowly opened his mouth to yawn. He rose his head to be greeted with a welcoming sight of a friend, walking towards him from the cobble.
"James..." His mouth resisted to being opened in such a drowsy state effectively, "how do you do?"
"Mate, they're coming, and I'd reckon you should stand UPRIGHT!" At his last word, he shot out a flat palm to connect with Falric's chin.
An eyebrow raised at his last word and before he knew it (in his tired state), his head immediately raised upwards to a flowing royal pennant of Lordaeron. James cleared his throat and quickly shuffled next to Falric, "Aaand, they're here..."
His eyes gingerly lowered down, inspecting the vanguard Royal Guardsmen coming in mounted proudly on strong barded destriers, high horsehair brush helmets polished till immaculate and shined partisans with noticable pennants. They all threw looks of acknowledgement to the two blundering soldiers.
In response, Falric and James unsheathed their steel in a quick fashion before presenting a sword salute in rigorous discipline with every motion strict and swift.
As the vanguard trotted past forwards with their heads swivelling back forwards, more of the contingent came, the two still presenting their swords with respect and faces plastered with sternness, eventually the royals came, one being a prince and the other, a princess, dressed in outstanding fabrics of silk embroidered and on their heads, a small laurel of violet kingsblood.
Everyone, should of known the pair as they were charismatic and popular with the commoners and the whole of the kingdom in general. The prince, most identified him as 'Prince Arthas' with outright a handsome face. Chiseled perfectly as the Terenas once called when he looked into the bright azure owned by the Prince; almost 'blessing' with flowing gold locks and fair firm skin.
The princess was almost the same, with fine features including high cheekbones, long flowing gold locks and the piercing azure eyes, alittle more darker to represent the sea. All of it on a silky background of fair skin washed across.
"Ya know, how much if they go loose, missing or..."
"wild...?" Falric quickly intercepted, "Like what? When the Royal Guard Captain reported when they became missing around the Palace and very troublesome to the guards?"
"A silver, that's all I will bet on." James gave a shrug when the party passed on quickly.
Falric slowly put out a hand. "Deal, and make sure you don't get edgy around these bets." His eyebrows furrowed quickly at the word of 'edgy'.
"Fine."
And the men shook hands.
xxx
Everyone was gathered infront of the town hall, containing a grand oak stadium infront of the building itself and a row of chairs next to it. The air was like roses to a whiff and the sun still shone its last light upon the square. Lowborn commoners to well known merchants all held their hopes high for a glimpse of young royalty to cheer for while the guards... simply stayed lifeless under helmets and half plate sets.
The immaculate mayor, dressed in bright blue and white of Southshore and Lordaeron, made humble strides to the stadium, clambering up the set of stairs with a small stack of papers in his hand and with his leather boots resonating with the steps. Every pair of eyes formed on the yet-to-be-grizzled man with a great silence.
The man made himself at home with an eased stance and tapped his papers before opening his mouth, "Welcome, citizens of Southshore," he spoke out with a cheerful voice that did not move the crowd before him, "I, Mayor Henry Maleb, welcome you all to the Royal Visit of the house Menethil!"
This time, he was met with cheers and enthusiastic clapping of the crowd, the young mayor obviously proud of his speech by a genuine smile tugging at his lips. The ardent noise was soon quickly ordered down when the mayor slightly moved his hands upwards. "I present the young royals of the Visit... Arthas Menethil and Jaina Proudmoore!"
{Meanwhile}
"Straighten your clothing!" She almost hissed with her original voice of a bird's song gone, her arms flailing to the Prince that slouched next to her on a chair, in such an awful time.
The Prince simply gave a short-sighted chuckle, "Relax, this isn't another of those Palace meetings with all those nobles." He said coolly and put out a hand to counter her own.
With a reluctant sigh, Jaina Proudmoore, lady of Kul Tiras was beaten by this carefree, blithe friend that she called a 'prince'. Her hands soon recoiled back to knot on her lap.
They both had a void air completely free of human voices between themselves in the desolate townhall. Jaina's eyes darting around too self-consciously like if there was a crowd expecting her to perform something good. On the otherhand, Arthas seemed to be idly sitting with a lax posture, his body essientally slopped on the chair.
A guardsman soon popped into full view after a brief moment, strictly walking forwards infront of the two. Two pairs of eyes soon were upon him. "The mayor has called for your speeches." He rumbled from his helmet, his voice heavily accented from soldiering as his words marched out of his mouth.
xxx
Falric simply stood there, his arms like steel and legs tightened. About a second ago he sounded like they were both prisoners, sounding harsh and almost commanding, especially from the shadows of his helm.
They both slowly got up from their seats, the lady had her legs noticeably quivering and she tried to hide it from the soldier, but to no avail while on the otherhand, the Prince simply raised a brow at his companion. A small unaccounted smirk erupted from Falric's lips. Light bless him that he was issued something that shadowed his face.
"My lady, will you require medicine?" He resisted heavily the urge of laughing at his offering at the shaky legs.
Jaina simply raised an unsteady hand, "I am fine, do not worry ab-"
"She requires a whole bucket of seawater to be splashed on her." The Prince's voice unregally resonated throughout the room with a fox-like grin plastering on his face.
Her face flushed red with furrowed eyebrows, she gave a hefty shove with both hands extended to the Prince before her. "Woah, calm down." He gave a playful tone, which didn't exactly help the situation inhand.
When Jaina was about to screech the town hall to nothing but a few logs of wood (and deaf men) with logical (and ferocious) rants, Falric calmly made a succession of foot-taps as time grew quick. With a short nod from the Prince, they were soon shuffling out of the room.
The dynamic rays of dusk greeted the three as they made footfalls outside, many of the town hall scribes greeted the blue-blooded blondes with cheers of praise and bliss with wide smiles on their clear faces. Jaina seemed even more self conscious when she attempted to greet back the crowd with waves.
As they approached the stage, Falric silently edged out of the way unnoticed as he seeped into a troop of seemingly lifeless Royal Guardsmen and into the back of the crowds, his head kept down on the stone before him.
Alas, past the vigorous crowd and against a cold wall of a house, he sulked quietly with his head kept down, his mind almost boggled at the display of the rowdy male blond. The corner of his lips tugged slowly at a small smile when he recalled the Prince being a total laggard infront of a soldier.
"I wonder if he'll get me in a tangle..."
"Tsk..."
"Tsk tsk..."
Falric's ears propped up at the sound directed to him and he slowly inclined his head up an inch to find a barely kept beard. "Spit it out, James..." he sighed and upped his head to fully face him,
James stood there, his arms crossed and an eyebrow peaked with a small smirk at his lips. "Are you not supposed keep watch on them after the speech?" He half twisted his body and pointed to the stage, a pretty, yet quivering woman stood with a scroll in hand and a twisted tongue in voice. Falric lowered his brows in derision.
"Don't worry..." he said flatly like he was ordered to a week of 'latrine duties', "my commission won't go soon..."
They both fixed eyes on the stadium when the crowd cheered wildly, creating a huge blissful ruckus to them both. The blue bloods were off the stage and gone from Falric's eyes and the mayor seemed to be talking to an upper class citizen. James quietly let out a stray finger to prod Falric from his thoughts and back to reality.
"You've got a job to do, eh? Try not to get them lost..?
Falric shrugged with lax looking eyes casted to the ground. "Another time." His feet took off in a quiet shuffle amid the resonating cheers throughout Southshore. He was given way to the stage after demanding for a path to tread, he stood a few paces away from the mayor with a blank stare.
Mr. Maleb gave a barely audible cough to the man he was engrossed with earlier and he turned sharply. "Need something?" His voice was accompanied by a raised brow with a slight frown on his lips.
He gingerly nodded. "Aye sir... where did they go?"
Maleb shot a bony to a path leading out of the cobble square. "If you could make it there." He was obviously noting the fact about the densely packed crowd. Before the mayor knew it, he turned around and found Falric gone.
xxx
It was a relieving to have the precense of the sea around her. With the air being musty and every waft salty to the nose, the noise wasn't the urban ruckus, it was more soothing with seagulls chanting their last and the waves lapping over and over again accompanied with the beautiful sun setting in the distance.
She began to reach for her bag for a book, but her hand was quickly swatted away by more rugged ones. Her lips curved into a frown. "Hey, what was that for?" She said, alittle bit agitated by the actions of the Prince.
Arthas reached for her book with a slight grin on his face, bringing the object close to his eyes and away from Jaina's annoyed hands. "A Treatise on Magic - Arcane Book 1," He said, azure pupils scanned the intricate carvings of the title page before he tossed it aside like a child with ease.
The book made a small clatter on the pier before resonating no more noise. Jaina looked shocked with her cheeks flared and hurriedly rose up to collect the book. "I'm just about to go to take my tests and you throw my books around and about! What is the meaning of this?!"
The Prince raised a lax hand to ease her from moving. "Come on, just enjoy the moment," he clicked his fingers in a playful manner making her sit down, calming her down in a certain degree by flushing the red from her face and laid an arm around her.
She was hesitant but above else, she didn't resist, she found herself protected and happy in his arms. "It reminds me of my homeland, Kul Tiras." She barely mumbled, squirming to find a position comfortable.
xxx
Shit, shit.
He slapped himself mentally for sulking at the back of the square when he should of been guarding them. He slowly calmed down the berating, knowing now it won't make anything better.
The streets of Southshore were practically deserted as everyone was gathered for a meeting, his plated boots resonating throughout the street along with the shaking of his equipment which caused quite a familiar noise from the Second War. The sun setted quickly, he had to return back to the barracks at around ten and he still haven't found any clues yet of where they might be.
Slowly he became conscious of him slowing down due to fatigue. He skidded into a halt abruptly and hunched over, hands on knees, his chest rising and falling with every breath. "I had just been running for around ten minutes in full plate. Light damn me."
Alright Falric, deep breaths, calm down. Now think! Where could they be?
His eyes frantically searched every spot of the street illogically, holding almost no hope, he perched himself down on the side of the road, scattering his helmet and weapons on the cobble before him in a careless manner before casting his head down to the road in shame.
Well, steel and thorium shouldn't break by a careless toss...
Back to the topic, anyways... Prince Arthas loves... HORSES!
His head suddenly perked up, he swooped all his kit from the ground and arranged them onto his body before kicking off in a full sprint in a tiresome full set of plate. Maneuvering through the streets was easy, the place was essientally deserted and soon, after a few streets he found himself before the only stable in town. A beautiful rectangular building for beasts of burden with finely burnished oak.
I'm not hearing any sound but my own breathing...
He cautiously took long strides to a wall of the building, creating barely any noise from his equipment. He soon slipped off his helmet and lightly pressed his ear against the wood.
Nothing.
Cursing himself with a stamp of his foot, he slapped his headgear on without any regard for his skull and set off again, the clattering of gear almost like music to his ears while running, albeit very bad music.
Jaina Proudmoore - a mage intraining, but Southshore doesn't have a single mage in town or an establishment based on the arcane arts.
Light damnit Falric, think!
He was still running, running for his rank as a sergeant to stand in a nutshell. He was now entering the streets closer to the sea, identified by the more musty air of the sea and smell of salt...
Of bloody-cause!
"The sea, the sea, the sea!" He chanted, his voice growing more excited. He sharply turned for the nearest intersection leading to the piers, almost falling over in such a middle of a sprint and quickly set off.
He hated the sea, every slimey bit of it, ranging from the vexatious seagulls who steal food for a living without remorse to the cold waters that battered Falric's skin relentlessly when he first entered stray waters at a fairly young age. Skidding up to a halt at the sandline, he squinted through the tight slits of his helmet, his eyes meandering around a multitude of piers of different shapes and sizes for two figures.
Skipping over a few deserted piers, his eyes laid soonly on two figures sitting down at the edge of a pier.
Light bless.
He cautiously paced forwards making barely audible noises on the sand aside from his light clattering of his equipment, eyes fixed on the outlying people never to break a gaze and risk them moving away again. Metal met wood as the noise began to resonate louder and quicken his pace. He was about ten metres away now and he swore that he could hear their very breathing.
xxx
The Prince swept his head right around, his heart ramming against his chest when his eyes told him that a guardsman was waiting for him. He simply looked on, he couldn't bare to open his mouth, he would of been in a heap of trouble from his father.
Jaina naturally let off a little worried 'are you alright?' at the corner of his ear, but he couldn't respond.
"We will go, now." The guardsman rumbled, his voice quivering audibly to resist the temptation of going full-on this troublemaker.
A shrill voice let out a small gasp, Arthas made a small turn of his head and saw Jaina's eyes welling in tears alittle bit.
He could barely stand to open his mouth, "Alittle more time... please..." his eyes were shining azure, but they seemed sad at the time. "...we are bound to our duties soon, we only want a few precious moments before we depart..."
xxx
This seems... rather interesting.
Falric perked up a brow under his helmet, he was almost chuckling under his helmet after his long hard years. About an hour ago he felt like a young person, now he felt like a sergeant commissioning two privates to some neglectful latrine duty. His mouth was about to open to speak a 'no you're coming with me' in a very blunt manner, but he felt a tug on his heart, like another side appealing.
He gave a sigh, why am I doing this?
Falric's mouth slowly opened again to speak properly this time, in a more informal way, "You... shall have your time, then." He coughed and spluttered before turning away awkwardly with a scratch of his plated head.
"Thankyou...?"
"Falric, your highness, Sergeant of the Royal Guard comiss-"
"No need for formalities," Jaina let off a bright smile in the wake of a nice gentle voice, attracting a turn of Falric's posture with a slight smile perking under his helm, "Hey! Thats my line!"
Falric sighed and muttered under his breath, "Bloody hell."
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A.N: May of took too long to write this chapter, probably didn't have a good theme for this one either. Think of this as an 'expanded introduction'. Next chapter, it'll be mission 3 to atleast 4 of 3k words or 3k words of mission 3 only. Heads up, first mission for the Scourge incursion is mission 3 so...
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Day 1001: Still writing chapter 2.
Anyways, I'm sorry for the long time to write, exams, etc, also doing regimental stuff (Mount and Blade: Napoleonic Wars on Steam) such as 'propaganda' fanfics (also known as comedy / dark humor / memes / erotica) and of course, house work.
