Chapter 4: The Prince and the King
Addy woke up the next morning feeling better than she had in months. After much arguing she'd finally agreed to eat some of the stew and for once her stomach didn't wake her up with pangs of hunger. Instead of the bitter cold she usually felt, she was instead pleasantly warm under a thick pile of furs and blankets.
She sat up, stretching a bit and looking around the patchwork tent, wondering what had woken her. It wasn't quite light out yet, and sleep still clung to her eyes. Soon the sound of people running around the camp and the neighing of horses was brought to her awareness.
She poked her head out of the tent and saw men milling about as the camp slept. She spotted Gryan, already in his uniform, talking to groups of soldiers and pointing in various directions.
She went back into the tent and gathered her cloak, throwing it on and grabbing her pack. It was empty, but it was still hers. She ran her hands through her hair, wincing as they hit a few knots that she knew she'd have cut out. She pulled it back from her face into an elastic and hoped that she looked alright as she climbed out of the tent.
Gryan spotted her immediately and walked over, "I was about to wake you. We're going to head into the city now. We want to beat the midday rush."
She nodded, but her stomach twisted in knots, "What am I doing once we get to the city?"
"We'll talk to the King Immediately." Gryan explained, "Then we'll get a room at an inn. Depending on the King's orders we'll see what will happen after that."
She froze , "What do you mean 'We'll talk to the King?'"
"We're talking to him first." Gryan sighed, "You'll be coming with us."
Addy gave him a blank look, not entirely sure what to say to that.
When she was younger her grandfather would talk about what he'd say to the King, if he ever got the chance. Of course this was usually after he'd had a few drinks and was on the edge of drunk. He'd curse the King and the House of Nobles, and he'd always say the same thing:
"Addy, you know what i'd say to 'im, if I ever got the chance? You know what'd I say?"
"No Grandfather, what would you say?"
"I'd say…you've got some nerve…What would you tell 'im Addy?"
"It doesn't really matter Grandfather, neither of us are ever going to meet him."
She didn't really feel anything one way or another. She supposed she should feel angry at him, but she didn't. She never really had, just bitter. Her grandfather had been a juxtaposition - on one hand he said every man was responsible for himself. He never took any charity, never let anybody help him. But on the other hand he was quick to put the blame of his failures on others. But Addy never had - she knew that the King wasn't responsible for the fallow. The famine came from nature - the Defias came from greed - and the failure of her Grandfather's vineyard came from his drinking. And despite what the people of Westfall liked to think, none of these were the Kings fault.
But the shallow, hungry eyes of those who sat starving without aid in the fields of Westfall still cried out to her. Perhaps the famine wasn't the King's fault, but he was still to blame for the deaths of hundreds would couldn't feed themselves. They'd all been helpless to watch money pour into the army, and into wars, instead of feeding the people on his own doorstep. No…Addy didn't blame him for the corruption of Lady Prestor and the House of Nobles, but that didn't mean she particularly liked him either.
"Just say behind me." Gryan tried to be supportive, "And for the love of the light don't be rude. Prince Anduin didn't deserve to have to deal with you last night."
"I was tired." She defended herself, "And hungry, and in pain. I'm sure he'll forgive me."
"Be glad he's the forgiving type." Gryan gave her a stern look, "There are nobles would have you lynched for such attitude. And I'm certain the King wouldn't appreciate it. So keep your mouth shut, no matter how much I think a night in the Stockades would do you some good."
"Now who's being rude." She grumbled, chuckling a bit when he nudged her, "Don't worry, I won't say anything. I'll probably be too busy trying not to throw up I'm so nervous."
"Don't throw up either." He warned.
"I was joking."
"Well I'm not."
Addy laughed loudly, looking towards him, throwing her voice into a high pitched mockery of the nobility, "I hereby do swear not to vomit on the High King of the Alliance, today, nor on any other day, so long as I so do live."
Gryan grunted, "I should leave you in Goldshire."
"But Gryan." She gasped, "You'd miss me."
"I liked you better when you were injured."
Anduin felt awful, but he was used to it. His body was sore, his head was pounding, and he knew that he most likely looked like death. He'd done his best to look the part of the up-kept Prince of Stormwind, unknotting his hair and scrubbing the blood off his hands and face, but he knew that there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and his clothing was dirty and wrinkled.
As he rode his horse through the quiet early morning camp he did he best to avoid the stares, as he always did. The night before had been different, he wore simpler clothing and his hair was down and messy. Most people hadn't even recognized him, mistaking him instead for a simple priest from the city, sent to heal the people of Westfall. It had been a refreshing experience.
He approached the small party heading towards the city, immediately seeking out Captain Stoutmantle. The Captain had taken unofficial leadership of the camp up until this point, and was now passing that roll onto Marshall Dunham of Goldshire. The two were in a deep conversation on the main road and Anduin made his way to approach.
They spotted him as he approached and both gave silent, respectful, nods in his direction. He gave them one in returned and turned his horse towards them.
Behind the two men Anduin spotted a young girl on a horse, and immediately recognized her as the young Paladin in training who'd attacked the Pit Lord. She didn't give any indication that she'd seen him, instead she focused on wringing her hands together, looking around with a thick air of nervousness.
He had to say he was greatly impressed with her bravo, and while she hadn't killed the Pit Lord she had definitely saved the lives of the people in the tower it had meant to collapse. He found himself eager to speak with her about her use of the light during the battle - but now was not the time for such things.
"Marshall, Captain." He greeted the two men as he approached, then turned to Miss Fairchild, giving her a respectful tilt of his head and the coy smile he used when speaking to ladies of the court before he spoke, "Miss Fairchild."
When he was a child most woman would coo and pinch his cheeks, telling him how adorable and handsome he was. Now a days they would offer their own coy looks, smirks and even the occasional blush, something he still found himself trying to get used to.
Miss Fairchild did none of the above. Instead she just furrowed her eyebrows, giving him a weird tilt of the head as if confused that he was speaking to her. Beside her Captain Stoutmantle cleared his throat and Miss Fairchild jumped.
She winced slightly before giving an awkward head nod in return, "Your Highness." She mumbled.
He gave her a smile in return, ignoring the look on the Captains face. The man seemed aghast at Miss Fairchild's poor manners, but Anduin didn't particularly care. He'd seen much worse, and he got the sense that she didn't mean him ill will, but rather simply didn't know how to speak with him.
"Addy." The Captain spoke to the woman shortly, and she turned her head to look at him expectantly, "Why don't you ride ahead."
Anduin expected the young woman to argue, or perhaps look affronted. But instead she just gave the Marshall a long hard look, before kicking her heels into the horse and clumsily riding forward.
Once she was out of earshot Captain Stoutmantle sighed, "I apologize for her your Highness. She's spent many years living by herself and the manners of society sometimes escape her."
"It is of no consequence." Anduin shrugged, moving his horse into the line as they started their trip back into the city.
The Captain sighed, "She's rather stubborn, like her mother, and her grandfather. Sometimes I think I bit off more than I can chew with her."
"In my experience, it's the stubborn ones that make the best warriors." Anduin smirked, thinking of his father, "And maybe the best leaders."
"Oh I have no doubt." The Captain chuckled, "I'm sure given the right motivation she'd do great things. Or the right circumstances…"
The Captain had mumbled the last bit to himself and Anduin had to admit to himself that he was curious. But he knew better than to ask, it would be dreadfully improper to use his title to coerce private information about someone. So instead he just hummed lightly under his breath and offered a change of subject.
"My father has ordered a large contingent of men in Lordaeron and Gilneas back south to help hold Westfall should another attack occur."
The Captain grunted, "I'm sure Greymane was thrilled to hear that."
Anduin sighed, knowing the Captain was most likely correct. He wasn't there when his father made the decision, but he knew there would have been a loud argument between him and Genn, "I'm sure."
"We're very thankful for everything Stormwind has done. I'm hoping that this response will discourage whoever's responsible from attacking a second time."
Anduin bit his cheek, a strange sinking feeling in his gut, "We can only hope."
Addy was fine with riding by herself near the middle of the pack. Her legs were sore after only an hour but she entertained herself by studying her surroundings. She hadn't left Westfall since she was very small, and it felt strange being in a forest again.
The air smelled sweet, and crisp and clean - without the usual dust and dirt that clung to everything in Westfall. There were hills and mountains in the distance, which looked terrifying. How could people live near them? Weren't they scared that those giant rocks would fall, and crush them?
And there was so much water. Rivers and streams filled with fish and Murlocs. The Murlocs turned to watch them as they passed, then turned back to fishing in the creek. She saw a number of other animals in the forest: squirrels, deer and even a bear once or twice, but none of them came close to the road towards the city.
They passed people every now and then, all of them stopping to bow and pay respects to the Prince, who had moved to the front of the group with Gryan and his bodyguards. The Prince greeted each one graciously, apparently never running out of smiles.
Another hour passed before she got the nerve to kick her horse and speed up to the front of the group. She moved her horse in line with Gryan's.
"Hey." She smiled at him, before looking uncertainly at the Prince, "Er…Your Highness."
The Prince just nodded a small greeting before turning to speak with his body guards, and Addy could see why. She could already see tall flags, and circling Gryphons that signalled they were approaching the city. Every now and then she could see the keep through the trees, built on a cliff and surrounded on three sides by sheer edges and on the fourth by the ocean. It was made of clean light stone and blue roof tiles with the gold Lion of Alliance hanging from banners off the tallest towers.
And as they reached the top of a nearby hill she got her first sight of the capital city of Stormwind.
It was huge. Bigger than any city she'd ever seen before, even that of her childhood. The city stretched all the way to the sea, which she could barely see at the edge of the horizon. The Cathedral of Light sat in the middle of the city, its sharp spires shooting to the sky, its height only matched by the keep and a lone tower to the left of the gates. Even from here she could see signs of life, with a faint buzzing of noise and life that radiated away from the city. Looking ahead she knew thousands of people could live there...hundreds of thousands.
They travelled towards the front gates, passing by what seemed a small army, all marching and patrolling the large walls of the city.
"It's not usually like this." The Prince looked pinched as they marched through two wooden door guarded on either side by large siege machines. "But the attack has us on edge."
Addy didn't mind. Honestly the sight of so many soldiers made her a feel a bit better as they walked into the city. Westfall was practically run by soldiers, so it was a sight she was used too.
She passed through the doorway and onto a stone walkway, and as she looked upwards she gapped at the sight in front of her.
Four statues, larger than Sentinel Hill itself, stood guard over the single stone bridge into the city. At the end of the bridge stood a fifth statue, looking down at those who walked into the city with a protective gaze.
"What do you think?" Gryan asked her, as he looked around.
Addy shook her head, unable to express herself. Not all of the statues were human, one was a Dwarf, and another an elf, "Who are they?"
"Heroes." The Prince answered for her, "Of the second war. Those who sacrificed everything in the closing of the Dark Portal and the saving of our world."
Addy frowned, looking up at the giant statues as she passed underneath them. She didn't really know anything about the first two wars. She knew her Grandfather was a sailor of Kul Tiras during the second war, but that was about it. Knowledge of history just wasn't that important when it came to growing grapes and making wine.
But she still nodded like she knew what he was talking about, she didn't want to seem like an uneducated idiot in front of the Prince. As they passed by the statues Addy notice the reverence the soldiers gave them. She looked up, her eyes meeting those of a tall Elven woman holding a bow and a hawk on her arm. When she was a child she wanted to be like the heroes who came through Westfall, like the ones who stormed the Deadmines and killed VanCleef. When they passed under the watchful gaze of the fifth and final statue Addy doubted she'd ever be a hero like them.
They walked further into the city and Addy wrinkled her nose. It stank! The smell of thousands of people walking, eating, living, all in the same place produced a stench like nothing she'd ever smelt before. More than once she'd led her horse around what she hoped was animal shit, tramples by hundreds of human feet as they milled around the busy city centre.
A small path through the crowds had been cleared by the guards, and Addy was thankful she happened to be travelling with the Prince. She couldn't image how Gryan and her would have managed to get through otherwise. People watched them as they passed with curiosity, and she remembered Gryan mention that the attack had been seen from the city. She supposed they wanted to know what had happened. So would she.
They walked into a section of the city that looked much older than the rest and Gryan explained that this was one of the only parts of the original Stormwind that had survived when the Horde had burned it to the ground.
And just beyond that, was the keep.
If Addy had thought it was impressive before, up close it was mind-blowing. The entrance was a small draw bridge, and no more than two horses side by side could walk over it at a time. But beyond that it opened it an enormous courtyard, with giant marble staircases leading up to the keep, with a large fountain between then holding a Statue of King Varian Wrynn, a permeant scowl attached to his face. Looking at it, Addy suddenly remembered she was to be meeting the real thing in a few moments and felt sick to her stomach.
Some men in Stormwind tabards came and took their horses. Addy wished she was still seated upon hers. Now that she was on her feet she was starting to feel a bit light headed, and her legs felt like jelly. She smoothed down the front of her dress, aware that it was ripped and stained with demon blood. She pushed her ratty hair out of her face and used the shiny armour of the guard in front of her to make sure she didn't have any dirt on her face.
In reality she didn't look fit enough to meet a store clerk, let alone the High King.
"It's fine." Gryan snapped at her, "You look fine!"
She knew he was just trying to make her feel better, but he looked just as nervous as her, straightening his armour and wringing his hands as they walked.
They entered the keep, which was just as grandiose on the inside as the outside with tall marble columns and gigantic tapestries made of silk and gold hanging from the walls. At the very end of the large hall she could see a hint of the Throne, but instead of going forward, Prince Anduin took a left, taking them into a side room.
Addy didn't recognize the King at first, which she found surprising. She'd seen images of him, statues, and his face was imprinted on the very coin she fought so hard to earn. But his real life visage was much different. He wore a plain shirt and trousers, with a large fur lined belt and boots. He wore a blue and gold sash, much like the one Anduin wore, but even compared to his son he looked remarkably underdressed.
She supposed he didn't wear his formidable armour all the time. It must be terribly heavy…
He stood in front of a large table, and as they got close Addy saw that it had a map of Westfall pinned out on it, with small figures moving around it. A few other people were crowded around the table, looking from it, to the King, to the new visitors, all shifting nervously.
The Prince didn't seem bothered by any of this, walking up to the King's side, "Father."
"Anduin." The King replied, lifting his head to look at the group of newcomers. His eyes ghosted over everyone in the room and Addy got the feeling he was sizing them up. When his eyes fell on her she immediately looked down, flushing a little bit. His stare was incredibly intimidating.
She wondered what he thought of her. The tiny five foot human girl covered in demon blood and soot, standing in his keep. Did he wonder why a poor farm girl was here? Did he know about her attack on the Pit Lord as his son had? Or did she barely glance his mind, as he moved onto more important things.
His eyes landed on Gryan, "You must be Captain Stoutmantle."
Gryan bowed deeply and everyone followed suit, "Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for seeing us."
"Everyone tells me you're the man in charge." The King gave him a nod of respect, "Which means you're the one to talk to about what happened."
Gryan took a step forward, starting immediately. "It happened a little after noon. Very quick, very sudden. A large fireball came bursting out of the sky, hitting the ground at the Hill."
Addy remembered how at the beginning she'd been tossed several feet by a burst of fire.
"Above the Hill, a large portal opened up." Gryan continued, "Biggest portal I've ever seen. Not like Mage portals either - this one was green like acid. And out of the portal came more fireballs. Everywhere the fireballs landed, demons appeared."
The King sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, suddenly looking much more tired. "What kind of demons?"
Gryan shrugged, "Nothing out of the ordinary at first. Felhunters, Doomguards, Infernals, felbats." Addy shivered as she remember James, "But there was dozens of them. By the time I'd organized by men, there must've been half a hundred."
The King looked pensive, "Tell me about the Pit Lord."
"It showed up at the end. At some point the fireballs ended. We we're finishing off the remaining demons and it erupted out of nowhere. We tried to fight it off, but it seemed more interested in killing civilians than soldiers. The thing tried to bring the tower down right on top of the people inside. A Paladin was able to bring it's attention away from the tower long enough for your men to finish it off."
Addy flickered her eyes over to him, but beyond that didn't bring any attention to herself. When he said it like that she sounded unbelievably brave, instead of unbelievably stupid.
But the King didn't ask for the identity of the mystery Paladin. Instead he just nodded and motioned to the map out in front of him.
"There were attacks all over Westfall." He pointed to the large black figures, "Here and here, and a larger one in Moonbrook as well, the people there were able to survive by hiding in the deadmines. I've ordered evacuations, but whether or not people will listen…" He sighed, looking down.
"Do you think they'll attack again, Your Majesty?" Gryan asked.
"Depends who they are." The King admitted. "The most obvious answer is a stray cult of warlocks, but an attack this big? They'd have to be powerful…more powerful than any warlock I've ever seen."
"Could it be linked to the Defias?"
Addy popped her head up, listening intently as Gryan asked the question she'd wanted answered since the attack.
The King's eye's darkened and a deep frown settled on his face, "Believe me, the thought crossed my mind. But something of this scale seems beyond them these days, unless they've rebuilt right under my nose."
"It's happened before." The Prince mumbled, causing his Father to give him an exasperated look.
"Alright. It's a possibility we'll look into." The King conceded, "But I also want to investigate other sources. I'll have S1:7 look into any Warlock groups unaccounted for."
A woman with short messy black hair and slanted almond eyes walked forward. Addy looked down and saw that she wore a tabard over her armour with a golden anchor on it, "Is it possible that this is an attack by the Horde?"
The room went silent for a few moments as everyone silently considered the possibility. Addy didn't know much of politics, but even she knew an attack like this, so close to Stormwind, would be tantamount to a declaration of full on war. A thick layer of tension laid over everyone as they waited for the King to respond.
"I can't imagine this is the Horde." Prince Anduin spoke up, looking at the woman with a pinched expression, "There hasn't been much in the way of fighting beyond the odd skirmish since Vol'jin took control, and an attack like this isn't exactly his style. Plus, with this many demons the Horde would have had to make some sort of demonic pact, and I can't imagine the Horde leaders would go for that."
"Some of them might." The woman argued, "The orcs have done it before."
"And learned from it." The Prince sounded exasperated and Addy got the since he'd made this argument before, "It hasn't been so long that most of the Orc's don't remember what happened last time. They lost their home! They're not going to make the same mistake again."
"Enough!" The King boomed, interrupting both of them. The woman went to attention, standing stiffly.
The Prince just sighed, and dropped his head.
The King looked between them, "I agree with my son." The Prince's head popped up in surprise, "While Horde warlocks may be involved, I highly doubt this is a sanctioned attack by Horde leadership."
"Which brings us back to square one." The woman sighed.
The King looked at the board in front of him with narrowed eyes. He scanned it furiously, looking for something that would bring this whole thing together.
Addy bit her lip, looking between Gryan and the King, then before her courage left her spoke up, "What about the ship?"
Everyone in the room looked at her and she immediately flushed.
"Er- Your Majesty." She finished awkwardly.
The King didn't seem to care about the slip, but instead stood up straight, watching her curiously, "Ship?"
Addy nodded, "A large one - an air ship. It came out of the portal. It didn't do anything, it just sort of sat in the air. It showed up at the beginning of the attacks, and left at the end."
The King frowned, and everyone in the room exchanged confused looks.
Gryan nodded, "I think I remember it. It didn't do anything so it must've escaped me…"
"I've never heard of anything like it." The King confessed, "It came out of the portal?"
Addy paused a moment before she realized he was talking to her, "I think so? I don't know where else it could have come from."
The Prince placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, "Unless the ship was there first. Maybe whoever opened the portal was on it."
"It would make sense." Another voice spoke up, an older man with a long white beard and long purple robes, "It's much easier to create a portal beside you, than hundreds of feet in the air."
"So we just need to find the ship, and then we find the casters." The Prince nodded, "Shouldn't be too hard." His voice was thick with sarcasm.
"Nobody saw it leave." The King frowned, looking up at Addy, "Did you."
Addy swallowed, sweat building on her forehead as everyone looked at her, "No…I thought it might have going through the portal, but I never saw. I do know it vanished when the Pit Lord was still alive."
The King and the Prince exchanged looks. Addy wasn't sure what they were thinking, but it seemed like a silent discussion was moving between them via heavy moving eyebrows and twitches of the lips. Whatever the outcome of the conversation it seemed the Prince wasn't pleased with it, as he scowled heavily at his father, looking away with a huff.
The King turned his heavy gaze back to them and spoke to the room, "It didn't attack, so it's not a priority right now. Focus on finding out who orchestrated this attack. I want them dealt with quickly and effectively. We cannot tolerate attacks so close to our city."
The black haired woman nodded in agreement, before coming to attention and saluting. After she did so every solider in the room followed suit, including Gryan beside her. She and the Prince were the only two who did not and she immediately felt awkward, sinking back behind Gryan.
"Dismissed." The King spoke, and people started to leave the room, muttering amongst themselves. Addy turned to follow, but Gryan placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a questioning look. He ignored her, instead walking forward to address the King.
They stood there in awkward silence for a moment until only the members of the People's Militia of Westfall remained in the room.
The King straightening, shaking his head as he looked over the map, "How many?"
Addy wasn't sure what he was asking, but Gryan seemed too, "Hundreds, maybe a thousand. Even more injured."
Addy's throat closed up. He was talking about the dead.
The King winced, "And how many refugees?"
"Five Thousand in Goldshire." Gryan counted, "About five hundred are heading to the city - those who have the worst injuries. A few thousand more went their own ways, some to Darkshire, some to Stranglethorn. Thousands more haven't left at all."
The King nodded, "I won't forcibly remove them if they don't want to leave. But I will be sending men to the main pockets. Both for protection and also to make sure whoever did this isn't still there. Those in Goldshire will be provided for. Those in the city as well. I can't help those elsewhere unfortunately."
Gryan bowed, and Addy did as well, "Thank you your majesty."
The King rubbed his face, looking at the map sadly, "I just hope that it's enough. Now you and your men have rooms at the Golden Keg. It's the closest to the keep and a bit nicer than staying in the soldiers barracks. I'll have someone summon you when we have more information. Until then get some rest, I get the feeling you're going to need it."