"With the war on Outland, the constant aggression from the Horde, I never would have thought Duskwood to be free, much less Westfall and Duskwood."
King Varian spoke to us as we made our way to the throne room.
Stained glass windows overlooked the throne of Varian Wrynn, making it clear this was more than the home of a king, it was a bastion of the light. I shivered.
Never liked the light much, gave me the creeps. A crowd of individuals waited for us inside, a gathering of men and women.
"If the rumors are right, we owe it to one man." The king of Stormwind glanced to me as we walked, his eyes flashing with something I did not recognize.
I looked over to the other people waiting for us. They were all well dressed, nobles if I had to guess. Probably nobles with interest in the land I now owned.
I only recognized one of them, an attractive, ample blonde woman in the robes of a mage.
Her presence immediately put me on edge.
Jaina Proudmoore. One of the most accomplished mages there was. She didn't look happy to see me either.
"Marcus Moonbrook. The necromancer who saved Westfall." The guards, the men Varian had around us, shifted uneasily at the word.
"In light of your actions in the name of the Alliance and your kingdom we are willing to forgive your past. I-" I cut him off.
"Westfall." Several individuals gaped at the disrespect to a king, I heard someone in the back gasp.
"What?" Varian turned, stopping just before he made to introduce the group, his eyes narrowing.
"I did it to save Westfall and Duskwood, I did it for the people therein." I smiled, taking in the atmosphere of the room as people began to realise what was going on.
"Not for you." I watched the mans smile grow considerably more strained.
Jaina stepped forward, nearly growling at me.
"Address your king respectfully necromancer! He's saved your life by forgiving you."
Even furious she was something to behold, icy blue eyes looked at me through golden blonde locks.
No wonder prince Kael'thas was rumored to have affections for her.
I tilted my head at her. "He's no king of mine." Her teeth gritted as she looked me up and down, analyzing me for the kind of threat I could be.
"You reject his hospitality?" One of the nobles spoke this time, a thin man with a hooked nose and poor posture. "A criminal speaking down to a king?"
He looked to the king of Stormwind."My lord it's clear this vagabond has no respect, this procession comes to announce the return of Westfall officially to our hands and he has the gall to-"
I laughed in the man's face. "Your hands? No. Were here to tell you Westfall belongs to us now."
That threw things for a loop. The nobles immediately yelled out their dissent, calling for justice.
The king looked to me, eyes wide. "Secession? Those lands have belonged to Stormwind for generations. You think you can change that just because you killed some bandits?"
"I think I can do that because you lost those lands fifteen years ago, and in Duskwoods case, six."
I rose a brow. "Or do you think you were really in control of those places before I came along?"
He looked down, guilty. Jaina spoke on his behalf.
"That was a result of outside influence. Enemies within our circles.'
I shrugged."That may be, but you've lost the peoples trust. Westfall serves the king of Stormwind no longer.
Jaina laughed. "And who would Westfall go to I wonder? A necromancer? Why should we trust you to keep them safe?"
She was focused on the nature of my magic. Interesting.
"Because in four months Ive done more to protect those people than the country they served did for years."
The soldiers behind us, our escort, stomped twice in agreement. Thump. Thump.
"Because a necromancer was the only person with the steel in him to save his people."
Thump. Thump.
"Because unlike some people, I'm willing to make hard choices for the survival of those I care for." She froze, whatever words at her lips catching in her throat.
She knew I was talking about Stratholme.
Arcane power gathered at her fingertips, and for shows sake shadow gathered in my own.
I heard the rasp of steel behind me as the angered people of Westfall readied for blood.
"Enough, Jaina. He has reason to be angry. Stormwind has been remiss in its treatment of the people he represents. "
Varian was surprisingly cool tempered. It seems being human gives you a bit of leeway around him.
"Remiss?!" Ebonlocke sputtered, speaking for the first time. "Remiss he says!"
Ello was not cool tempered.
The lord of Duskwood stomped forward. "We waited for six years for aid! We waited for six years as our children died, as our loved ones rose from the grave, and you claim you were remiss?"
They both leaned back at the fury in the mans words.
In the back of their minds they had been expecting me to speak against them, the rumors and my profession making things clear.
One of the Nobility however, was something else entirely.
"You abandoned you're people!" He pointed at Varian. "You left us to rot as the dead took all we loved from us!"
The king winced at the accusation, but did not fight it. He knew as well as I did, he had been played by Oxynia, and he would be feeling the consequences for years to come.
He roared at the party gathered in front of us. "For years my only hope was that when the scourge took me, there would be enough left of my mind to enjoy the look upon your faces as we destroyed what you held dear!"
"So if the only one who saved us happens to have once been the enemy, if a necromancer happens to be a more worthy king than the one who ruled over us before?"
He turned to Stoutmantel, who nodded at him.
"Than so be it. Long Live Marcus Moonbrook!"
I winked at Jaina as my people chanted behind me.
"Long live Marcus Moonbrook!"