Chapter Twenty-five: Old Wounds

Snarlmane had been busy of late. His pack of gnolls had grown in number and carved out a territory of their own. Raiding villages was all well and good. And with the humans distracted it had been much easier pickings.

But now as he sat on a rock by his hut, polishing his flail, he reflected that it would not last. He'd smelt the stench of humans lately. More soldiers had come from other shores to reinforce the villages. They hadn't had an easy targets in a long time. Yesterday they had tried a raid and bee repulsed. Many gnolls had died in the fighting and little plunder had been made.

Soon they'd have to defend themselves.

Then he saw something. A pale skinned humanoid, clothed in crimson flying down to land before them. He had horns on his head and wore a great axe on his back. Snarlmane called aloud to his warriors and raised his flail. They came yipping and snarling to him and formed a front.

The demon did nothing. 'Back you Dreadlord, no one imposes on our territory!' said Snarlmane.

'Peace creature. I have no desire to fight with you.' said the Dreadlord. 'Indeed, I am Varimathras, and I have come to bring you a chance unlike any other.'

'We need nothing from you!' said Snarlmane.

'Yes indeed. You have carved out a mighty kingdom for yourself.' said Varimathras, voice subservient. ''But I bring you a chance to grow mightier still. For a great movement is taking place even now. The creatures who have been oppressed by the Alliance of Lordaeron are now rising up.'

'We have already risen up.' said Snarlmane.

'And yet how will you hold this land which you have conquered?' asked Varimathras. 'The Alliance has defeated my forces in this region. Soon the humans will come back seeking vengeance and you will be overrun.'

'We gnolls are strong.' said Snarlmane, but he felt differently. For centuries the humans had beaten them back. Crushing every attempt to establish themselves.

'But are you strong enough?' asked Varimathras.

Snarlmane knew the answer, though he would never admit it. 'What are you offering? We don't serve you?'

'I do not ask you to serve.' said Varimathras. 'Rather I ask you to become a comrade of King Mug'thol. No doubt you have heard of him.'

'We have.' said Snarlmane. Rumors of a mighty ogre who crushed villages and defeated knights had spread. Supposedly he had been gathering other races to his banner. Snarlmane was afraid of fighting him. But he would never admit it. 'But we will not pay tribute.'

'You need not. If you desire to join with us then we will gladly have you in friendship.' said Varimathras. 'Should you decide against it then we shall part likewise in friendship.'

Snarlmane considered the matter. Then he looked to his pack. This region would not be secure for much longer. '…We will come.'

'Excellent.' said Varimathras, sounding pleased. 'Then follow me and I shall bring you an alliance which will give you many more lands to conquer.'

A cold wind blew off the Alterac highlands, rushing through Varian's long dark mane. He pulled his blue cloak closer around him and leaned over the fire a bit more. It didn't help much, but at least the cold helped him think. He had been thinking a lot lately.

'The problem, your majesty,' said Renault. 'is that the scourge doesn't get tired. So as long as they keep running and refuse to give battle, we are hard pressed to catch them. If we charge after them too quickly, they can strike at our supply lines.'

'They've done that several times already.' said Varian. 'Any news from the prisoners?'

'Yes sir.' said Renault. 'Our enemy's name is Varimathras. He is a junior lieutenant in the Dreadlords. The protege of someone named Balnazzar of high rank. His orders, as far as the prisoner knew, were to delay us.

'They don't expect to hold out indefinitely. But they want to keep our armies occupied long enough for them to shore up their defenses in Northrend.'

'Well it's working.' said Varian.

'I wish I was at least facing an enemy of great power.' said Renault. 'Such as Mal'ganis. But I suppose all of them went to Northrend.'

'I don't think you are giving Varimathras his due credit.' said Varian. 'Strategic Withdrawals are difficult to execute. Far more difficult. And sometimes they are necessary. During the First War Lord Anduin Lothar led the entire nation of Stormwind across the sea.

'He made plans with Daelin Proudmoore to evacuate the citizens. He arranged for a fighting retreat led by my half brother, Aiden Wrynn. It took more planning than the assault on Blackrock Spire. Had it failed the results would have been far worse.

'No Renault. If there is one thing, I've learned it is that sometimes you have to cut your losses.'

'A shame that the Legion is aware of this as well.' said Renault. 'This is no good. We need someone who knows the ground in these parts. My Father may have been a noble of Alterac but I've never been this far into the mountains, and I don't know the land. But Varimathras does. He's sure to have gotten maps from the Blackrock orcs.

'Sooner or later he's going to catch us in an ambush, and that'll be the end of us all.'

'So what would you suggest?' asked Varian.

'We need a guide.' said Renault. 'Someone with a lot of experience?'

'Does anyone still dwell in these hills?' asked Varian.

'There are some, or there were.' said Renault. 'There were a great many settlements that dwelled around Alterac City. Before Thoras and his band of illiterates burned the place to the ground anyway. I doubt all of them packed up and left.

'But the Blackrock Clan may have exterminated them. No one has been able to easily get that far with all the wars going on.'

'Why did the King's of Alterac make their home in this land?' asked Varian. 'It is no god for farming.'

'They were raiders, not farmers.' said Renault. 'With the mountains defending them, you couldn't take a large army through with ease. That meant the Lords of Alterac had a secure stronghold to launch strikes from.'

'A lineage of bandits.' said Varian. 'Wonderful.'

'We were all bandits in those days, milord.' said Renault. 'After Arathor fell there was no tidy line of succession. The Kingdoms of Humanity were forged in blood and fire.

'And right now those bandits may be our only hope.'

'Very well.' said Varian. 'Dispatch some scouts to the ruins of Alterac.

The scouts were sent out, and Varian waited. As he did, he received news of the scourge moving to another valley. So they went after it. They were careful as they did so. They'd already run into smaller traps set by the Dreadlord, and now they had to go slowly.

Sure enough, the Dreadlord escaped them.

Then the scouts came back.

'Majesty,' said the scout, 'I have news. The realm of Alterac is populated. The city is still in ruins, but there are a number of towns and villages there. They are quite numerous. They all have palisades around them, and many men holding javelins are on top of them.'

'What of the people?' asked Varian.

'Their a desperate lot.' said the soldier. 'I don't think I was seen, but they've seen better days. Look like they've been starving.'

'I see.' said Varian. 'You may go.'

The scout departed, and Varian turned to his command staff. 'It is unfortunate that the people of this realm should suffer for the treachery of their King.'

'Don't take that tone around them.' said Renault, a warning in his voice. 'It won't go over well.'

'What do you mean?' asked Varian.

'Pernolde was held in high regard by his people.' said Renault. 'He was a shrewd politician who did much to increase the prosperity of his people. He won his battles by making himself not worth the effort of attacking. Instead het made himself helpful to one power or another. Then played them against eachother.

'He was much like Terenas. He just inherited a far weaker Kingdom.'

'He let the orcs attack Lordaeron.' said Varian.

'Yes he did.' said Renault. 'And the orcs left his people in peace. Ogrim Doomhammer, whatever his nature, was apparently an orc of his word. Thoras Trollbane did not. I was there, Varian. My Father had sent my mother and I there to be safe.

'Then came Thoras Trollbane. He burned the fields outside the city. He broke down the gates and killed everyone he found. Blood ran in the streets. Women were raped and murdered.'

'How did you survive?' asked Varian.

'My mother and I were among those few lucky enough to escape with the royal family. Aiden Pernolde, his son Aliden, and a number of others.' said Renault. 'There was a secret passage that led out. I remember as I came out I looked and I saw Alterac City burning.

'It was a vision out of hell.'

Varian hesitated. He'd seen such a sight in Stormwind, done by orcs. He almost didn't believe Renault, but the eyes he saw here did not lie. 'Why would Thoras do such a thing? I know that Pernolde betrayed us but-'

'He wanted Alterac for himself.' said Renault. 'But he knew King Terenas would prefer for the Kingdoms to remain independent of one another. Thoras dreamed of restoring Arathor of old, for it was his family that overthrew the last King of Arathor.

'If he exterminated the Royal Family there would be no system for King Terenas to restore. He would have had no choice but to give the territory to one of the Kingdoms. Terenas could not take himself, or be accused of trying to establish an empire. He and Graymane despise eachother, so Gilneas was out of the question. Dalaran lacked the military power to control another state. And Stormwind had fallen. Quel'thalas would never take.

'But it didn't work. Aiden escaped an was captured by Uther Lightbringer and my father. Thoras' attempt to end the family was a failure. And he could not convince Terenas to execute them.

'Instead, Terenas tried to install Daval Prestor. Unfortunately, he disappeared right before his coronation. So Terenas instead ended up having to annex the place.'

'So, King Terenas did with clean hands what Thoras Trollbane slaughtered a city to achieve.' said Varian. 'There is a certain justice in that.'

'Not in the minds of the people of Alterac.' said Renault.

'Well, we have no choice but to try and speak with them.' said Varian. 'Thoras' ruthlessness might well cost even more lives if we don't get heir help. My Father had to repel an invasion by Stromguarde during the First War. Without it, we may have gained the help of Lordaeron and defeated the orcs earlier.

'I begin to wonder if Thoras is any less vile than the orcs.' He stood up. 'Renault, I will need you to come with me. Captain Marwynn.'

'Yes?' asked Marwynn.

'Prince Arthas trusts you more than any, does he not?' asked Varian.

'Well not as much as Falric.' said Marwynn. 'But I'm a close second.'

'Then I would have you take command in my absence.' said Varian. 'Don't do anything reckless. Just make sure the undead can't get away.'

'I understand.' said Marwynn. 'I'll take care of it.'

'We should not take a great number.' decided Varian. 'Only a small guard. I do not want to be mistaken for an invasion.'

So he and Renault set out with only a small troop of men to guard them on the road. Their passage was swift and within a day or so they had passed into the lowlands. They were at the western edge of the Alterac Highlands. Here lay Alterac City, a port situated on the shores of Lordaemere Lake. Long had the city been the rival to Dalaran and Lordaeron City, or so Varian had heard.

Yet now it was a desecrated ruin. Buildings lay shattered and fallen in the streets. Varian could see no sign of life within those ruins. The stones were blackened with fire, and moss was beginning to creep up onto the stones. It was not the worst desolation he had seen, for birds still nested in trees and life was not gone entirely.

But it disquieted Varian nonetheless. Those ruins he had seen before had been made by demons and orcs. Yet these were made by human hands, and that disturbed him.

Soon the small company passed beyond the city and came into brown lands. The fields here were rocky, and Varian could tell the soil was not very good. True to the scout's word many villages dotted this land. All were surrounded by palisades, and armed men walked them.

A horn call sounded as they walked and out of a gate streamed a troop of soldiers on horseback. They were a wild bunch with spears and axes, but at their head was a knight clad all in black armor. He had a short black beard, and he rode toward them.

'Stand ready,' said Varian, 'but make no aggressive move.'

His men had hands on their swords, but they did not draw them. On came the horsemen. They halted a few hundred feet away and arraying themselves for battle. Their leader came forward. 'Hold where you are, Alliance dogs! I do not know what business you have in Alterac, but you are within the territory of Alterac now! Account for yourselves or be destroyed!'

'We come in peace.' said Varian. 'We wish to speak with your leader in the hopes of forming an alliance.'

'An alliance?' asked the man. 'We heard that offer once before and were paid back in our own blood. Why should we speak with you?'

'Surely you must know of the demons who have spread their taint across the world?' asked Varian.

The man's expression grew grim. 'We know of them. They are the masters of the Blackrock Clan. Yet they have not yet come to us, and if they wish to tear your kind apart, we'll only be happier for it.'

'And what of the lands that were once part of Alterac?' asked Varian. 'Those lands unjustly stripped from you? Do you think only the men of Lordaeron suffer beneath the grip of the Legion? Or that you will remain forever overlooked by them?

'When they have destroyed us they will come for you. Allow me to speak with your leader. Let him judge the case, and if he rejects us, we will leave.'

'And who is it who wants to speak to the leader of Alterac?' asked the man.

Varian threw back his cloak and hood. 'I am King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind. I have come to this land to hunt demons. These are my men.'

'I am Blackmoore of Alterac.' said the man. 'These are mine.'

Varian had a bad feeling about this.

It was a little glade that had escaped the destruction of Dalaran. Here Prince Kael'thas was waiting for the arrival of some very distinguished individuals. Soon they appeared. Princess Calia came forward and with her was an elf, yet not of Kael'thas kind. His skin was violet, and his beard was blue. He had antlers, and he radiated an aura of life.

Was this the one?

'Princess Calia Menethil.' said Kael'thas, bowing. 'I am glad you could come.'

Calia curtsied. 'Prince Kael'thas, I bring you greetings on behalf of my father, the king of Lordaeron. This is Malfurion Stormrage. The Druid I wrote of. He wishes to speak with you.'

So it was. Kael'thas turned to him. 'Greetings to you, Archdruid. I am Kael'thas Sunstrider of the High Elves. I do not know what your efforts here may amount to, but you are welcome to make them. Dalaran was a home to me for many years, and I would like to see it mended.'

'I should not become overly hopeful.' said Malfurion. 'Healing the wounds of mortals is simple. But healing the wounds of the land is a task which can take ages.'

'I fear it will.' said Kael'thas. 'I will show you Dalaran if you wish.'

'I wish it.' said Malfurion.

Kael'thas motioned for him to follow. 'We will have to walk the rest of the way on foot. I fear the residual magic in the air has made teleporting dangerous. Come.'

He led Malfurion from the glade and into the beginnings of the destroyed waists. There were still some plants at first. An occasional tree which clung to life. But they became less and less common. Finally, they were looking down upon the desolation of Archimonde, as it has been called.

Malfurion sucked in a breath. 'Such is the price of arcane magic.'

'Arcane magic is not to blame.' replied Kael'thas. 'Merely it's use.'

Malfurion looked like he wanted to flare up at that. However, he guarded his words. 'My people have an unfortunate history with arcane magic. It is destructive and can corrupt and maim very easily.'

'All magics can corrupt and maim.' said Kael'thas. 'But all can also be used to create beauty and wonder.'

'Not all magics, young Prince.' said Malfurion. 'Some should never be dabbled. But we should not speak of this. I must commune with the land and know its pains.' Then he got down to his knees and closed his eyes. He seemed to be meditating for he went perfectly still. There he remained for a long time.

Finally, he opened his eyes. '…I've seen far worse.'

Kael'thas tried to control his response. Worse? How could it be worse? 'Surely you jest, Lord Stormrage.'

Malfurion looked bitter. 'I'm afraid not, Prince Kael'thas. I wish this was the worst devastation I have seen in my life. But the magic of fel has done far worse.'

He was not lying. Kael'thas could tell. 'How?'

'There are two ways one may devastate nature, young Prince. The first is to kill many plants and animals so that the harmony of the world is disrupted.' said Malfurion. 'This is unfortunate, but it may be mended by repopulation and careful tending of the land.

'Unfortunately, there is another kind. One far more terrible. And that is when the spirits themselves, the manifestations of life are driven out. When that happens, life ceases to grow. Animals avoid such places, and they wither and die.

'In time the unholy magics of such places may fade or be driven out, and the spirits may be convinced to return. But it takes far longer.

'This is the former. The darkness that fell over this land was largely purged. The mana storms which ravage this place are a passing thing. They will fade in time. And life may still be grown, life that may weather such storms. When at last they settle life will have crept back in, and my brethren will be able to restore this land to what it once was.'

'How long will this take?' asked Calia.

'Not long. Five hundred years perhaps.' said Malfurion.

'Five hundred years?!' said Calia.

Malfurion blinked. 'I apologize. I was thinking in terms of elven lifespans. I am sorry that I cannot heal it for your eyes to see. But your great grandchildren may see this realm restored.

'It was not so in the Barrens.'

'The Barrens?' asked Kael'thas.

'Yes.' said Malfurion. 'That is what they call it now. I cannot remember what it once was named, for the memory is too ancient. But it was a thriving and beautiful forest. Then came the Burning Legion. There was a cataclysmic war, one far more terrible than anything you have faced.'

'With respect, Archdruid, I find that difficult to believe.' said Kael'thas.

'I do not blame you.' said Malfurion. 'But Archimonde, the enemy we now face, was but a Lieutenant of the shadow which cast itself over the world. In those days there was, but one continent and the world was new. The dragon flights, now diminished and fading, were then in their full glory. And they went to war all at once.

'In your history, the Red Dragon Flight was turned against you. Enslaved. But it was but a pale shadow of what it was in my time. And yet the dragon aspects were but one part of a great conflict which extended far beyond them.'

'How could anything survive such a conflict?' asked Kael'thas.

'What I now call the Barrens did not.' said Malfurion. 'Ten thousand years and more have passed since it was laid to waste and my people have not been able to restore it. Life is returning, slowly, and it is my hope that it may be made green again when Dalaran is restored.

'Yet perhaps some scars may never heal.'

Kael'thas felt tiny. As if all that the Alliance had built was but a fleeting dream. Here was a man who had seen the rise and fall of civilizations. Places so old that no one on this continent remembered their name. How did one speak to such a person?

'Lord Stormrage, I… I am not sure what to say.' began Kael'thas. 'But you are wrong. Five hundred years is no short time for my people. It can be half a lifetime.'

'I see.' said Malfurion. 'Of course. Your people went east before the blessing of Nordrassil.' Before he could clarify, or anyone could ask, his eyes turned away. He looked at the contraptions which had been laid out on the blighted fields.

They were strange devices which were sucking the mana into them. Mages worked them, and manual laborers packed something that came out into boxes.

'…What are those men doing, Prince Kael'thas?' asked the Archdruid.

'They are mages taking samples from the mana storms.' said Kael'thas. 'They focus them into pills which are then provided to my people in Quel'thalas.'

'To what end?' asked Malfurion.

'My people had tied our spirits to a fount of magical power called the Sunwell.' said Kael'thas. 'The Dreadlord Mal'ganis corrupted it. Without its energies, we are lacking in mana and have to take supplements in order to stay healthy.

'We owe the Alliance much.'

'Interesting. And in doing you are taking the residual mana from the air.' said Malfurion, voice thoughtfuly. 'Tell me, Prince Kael'thas, how many of these pills do you use each day?'

'We are increasing the number we harvest every day, and it is not enough.' said Kael'thas. 'We distribute them to those who are suffering worst from our addiction. They have to take one every day.'

'And how many elves are there in Quel'thalas.' asked Malfurion.

'We have not taken a census in some time, however, there are tens of thousands in the area around Silvermoon alone.' said Kael'thas.

'In that case, I may be able to amend my earlier answer.' said Malfurion. 'If you continue to harvest mana from this place I believe I will be able to start work earlier. It may be restored to a semblance of what it once was within fifty years.'

'I'm looking forward to it, Archdruid Malfurion.' said Kael'thas.

'As am I.' said Malfurion. 'Now one more thing. Will you show me the land of your people, Prince Kael'thas. I am told it suffered greviously.'

'Gladly.' said Kael'thas.

Contact had been established with the colonists who had been sent to Kalimdor. Apparently, they had landed and begun building a new home. Now, at last, Arthas could speak over long distance, provided one had a powerful enough mage.

Arthas had no desire to have this meeting. But he knew he must have it sooner or later and better sooner. So he used the artifact. An image appeared before his eyes. It was of a stunningly beautiful blonde woman whose wavy hair fell around her. She wore a tight white bodice that bared her toned midrift and clung to her huge bust. Her lower half was covered in skintight white pants which clung to her ample curves. She was holding a staff in one hand. A blue cloak and hood was over her head.

'Hello, Jaina.' said Arthas.

'Arthas I, I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye.' said Jaina. 'But with everything that was happening I was afraid it would be too late if I waited.'

'I forgive you.' said Arthas. He decided to get the worst out of the way. 'Antonidas is dead.'

She reeled. 'What?!'

'He died well.' said Arthas. 'He tried to seal the barrier that a powerful demon, Archimonde was crossing. However, he has now been raised into undeath by Kel'thuzad.'

'I… I… I just spoke to him a few weeks ago.' said Jaina. 'Before I left.'

'It has been more than two months.' said Arthas. 'In that time many people have been dispossessed of their land. If new lands are not found for them, there will be starvation. Have you found any places worth colonizing?'

'We've landed at an island, I named it Theramore.' said Jaina, regaining control of herself. 'We drove out the murlocs who dwelled there and took control. There is also a land, Duskwallow Marsh. There we met a race of elves called night elves. They said they had been sent to meet us by a Cenarius. They were expecting us.'

'You can thank Calia for that.' said Arthas. 'A group of these elves arrived in Lordaeron. They claim they want to heal the land. I don't hold out much hope, but apparently, they've fought the Legion before. Whatever the case Calia arranged for messages to be sent ahead. The elves know about the orcs who went west, and with luck, they will hunt them.'

'Well they've been very helpful.' said Jaina, looking shaken. 'I've managed to set up the beginnings of several villages in Duskwallow Marsh. It isn't exactly pleasant, but high elves know how to alter terrain. If we could get few high elven druids here, we could probably alter the land to suit our needs.'

'Good.' said Arthas. 'Transport whatever maps you have to Calia. She is planning the expedition.'

'I… alright.' said Jaina. 'I was about to venture further west to try and find the Prophet. Supposedly there is an Oracle in a range of mountains called Stonetalon.'

'Don't do that.' said Arthas. 'Get your people fortified and prepare to receive new refugees. Explore the surrounding area. Find all the good land and lay claim to it before the orcs do.'

'But Arthas,' said Jaina, 'he was right.'

"Was he?' asked Arthas. 'I returned from Northrend safe and sound. The Legion has been repelled, for now. Besides, he dragged you across the world. The least he could do is make himself known on his own time.'

'I suppose you are right.' said Jaina. 'What have you been doing?'

'I killed Mal'ganis. But he killed a great many other people.' said Arthas. 'Things have settled down a bit. I've fixed things with Uther, and we're in the final stages of making our plans for colonization.

'I am to head up the next wave of western colonization. With luck, I'll meet you in Theramore. Another party, guided by Muradin, is to go north again and reestablish our old colonies. We need to have a presence in Northrend to monitor the region.'

'Right, that makes sense.' said Jaina.

Silence fell over them for a moment. What could he say?

'Arthas…' began Jaina.

'Yes?' asked Arthas.

'I'm glad you're alright.' she said 'I was afraid you would never come back from Northrend.'

Arthas smiled. 'I made a strategic withdrawal.'

Authors Note:

Yes, I am aware that canonically the Black Dragons destroyed Alterac City. However, I think the story of Warcraft works better if both sides are morally gray. Having Thoras Trollbane brutally subjugate Alterac after their betrayal makes sense. It also good reason why Terenas was reluctant to hand rulership over to Thoras. Unfortunately, this makes him practically a villain.

On a separate note, I wish I could just end this fic here and make a sequel later. The problem is that we've already set up several plot threads that need resolving. At this point, I may just end up making a side story fic that deals with the orcs side of things. I've got way too many perspectives right now anyway.