Chapter Two: The Battle of Tirisfal

The town of Vandemar had been where Arthas had begun his campaign against Lordaeron. It marked where he first gained command of the undead. Where the battles had turned against the Alliance and where the world had begun to shift.

Now it was where a meeting with Princess Calia was to be held.

Of course, it had changed a great deal. Fortifications had been erected, and more soldiers had come to be posted. A constant vigil was kept on him as he crossed over the border and he doubted he'd have had anywhere near as easy a time subverting it like last time. It represented an important strategic position. One that the Legion had failed to take, thanks to bolstering from the Kingdom of Strahnbrad. Not to mention the fledgling Scarlet Crusade. Now the once-blighted landscape had been partially healed. The trees were beginning to return, satisfying the part of him that still liked the Alliance.

Slowing Invincible to a halt, Arthas dismounted to lead the horse toward Calia. She was sitting at a table before a blue pavilion, emblazoned with the symbol of Lordaeron. With her was Archmage Antonidas and Rhonin. Arthas let go of the bridal and took hold of Frostmourne with his off-hand, noting the footmen around them.

"It has been a long time, Calia," said Arthas, unsure of how to continue.

Calia looked a bit thinner, but she remained beautiful. Her blonde hair was tied behind her neck, and her face went white as Arthas sat down. "You have no right to wear that crown, Arthas. Our Father-"

"Completely mismanaged the situation. Thus leading to my corruption and the Third War escalating into a full-blown conflict," said Arthas, finding his gauntlet more interesting than the conversation. Best just to get the reunion over with. If all she had to say to him were speeches on how evil he was, he might as well get to the point. "I've heard these speeches more times than I'd like. They stopped being effective years ago, and now are simply irritating.

"I might note that plenty of sons killed their father's before the ascension of Terenas Menethil. He was more the exception than the rule. Moreover, you are sheltering with a man with who gained the position of King by strength alone. Wilhelm has no legitimate titles to speak of.

"I hardly think you can be excused entirely from blame on the usurping front, sister."

"King Wilhelm gained his throne by popular demand in the absence of any other power," said Calia, unimpressed. "You ran your father through the throat and sent his land into chaos."

"The demons made me do it, and destiny said so," said Arthas, rolling his actions. "My actions were not my responsibility. In fact, I think I should be rewarded and thanked for not killing everyone in the kingdom. Don't think Frostmourne wasn't pushing for it.

"Where is Krasus?"

"Surely you don't think we'd bring our entire command staff within striking distance of you, do you?" asked Calia.

Arthas smiled. "Good precaution. Anything from you, Rhonin?"

"No," said Rhonin.

"No, no, surely you must have a self-righteous hypocritical speech to make," said Arthas. "I'd like to get them all out of the way so we can actually discuss the business of the realm."

"What realm?" asked Antonidas. "Lordaeron is shattered. You've seen to that?"

Finally, they were getting on topic. "In three months I will have reunited it. I've already put everything in place I need to arrange it."

"Then what are you coming to us for?" asked Calia.

"Simply put, I'd much rather make arrangements now then have to kill my own blood later," said Arthas. "I have plans, you see. The Lordaeron I envision will not be one state under one King, but a league of many smaller states. All will have their own regional government and leaders. I will merely take the place of High King, a war leader in times of crisis, and a mediator in times of peace."

"And you want me to bend the knee." guessed Calia.

"Of course," said Arthas. "But I have no intention of making threats. You see, we have a common enemy in Lord Garithos. His ideals represent the antithesis of everything my new order will represent. I require cooperation between the races. And so long as he is spewing speeches of hate and intolerance, there will always be strife."

"And what has this to do with us?" asked Antonidas. "The Kirin Tor is not at the beck and call of the throne of Lordaeron."

"Simple enough, Lord Antonidas," said Arthas. "I will break Garithos' power and return Dalaran to you. In return, you will agree to an alliance. I will provide military support to ensure no more incidents like these happen again."

"What's the catch?" asked Rhonin.

Arthas supposed some more information might help garner trust. "I'm going to remove Garithos far more quickly than you imagine possible."

"…Meaning?" asked Calia.

Too much would ruin things. "Just what I said. I have plans in place, based on intelligence, I will not reveal to you. It will make my reconquest of Dalaran a simple matter. I'll say no more than that."

"Give us some time to consider your offer," said Antonidas.

"And find any traps that might be waiting in it." muttered Rhonin a bit too loud.

Arthas sighed and stood up. "You have until the battle is won, Antonidas. And that will be the case by the time we're in the same room together. So you really have until I reach my horse because after that I'll be too busy to meet with anyone. Otherwise, I'll keep Dalaran when I take it and offer you a worse deal."

"You cannot simply-" began Calia.

Arthas started walking toward his horse. He was not feeling particularly well disposed to anyone in the Alliance. He half expected them to betray him anyway. And he was sick of them lecturing him on how evil he was, even though they were no better.

"Arthas, get back here and negotiate!" snapped Calia. "This is unbefitting a King!"

Arthas halted and put his hand over the bridle. Then he glanced back to them. "May I be blunt? I'm tired of being insulted and called traitor every time I hold a meeting. If you are not going to treat me with a semblance of courtesy I see no reason why I should give any in return. This is your last chance Antonidas. I have battles to fight."

"Damn you, we accept!" said Antonidas.

Arthas nodded and pulled himself onto his horse before nodding. "Glad to hear it. I'll send you a letter once I fix all our problems. Invincible, we have other places to be! Onward!" Then he urged Invincible forward at a breakneck speed.

He left Vandemar behind him, speeding over the landscape. On some level, he reflected he should have been more patient. But if they were going to open things by accusing him of treason, he wasn't going to dignify them with a long meeting. And he was pressed for time in any case. Reports from the eastern plaguelands were that things needed his personal attention.

The plaguelands came before him. He entered the Tirisfal Glades, marched by the sky changing from blue to a sickly greenish. Soon that sickly greenish day gave way to black and starless night. Making his way through the southern fortifications, he rode along the King's road. Soon he came before the meeting ground and found Dar'khan waiting for him. As he rode forward, Dar'khan removed his hat and bowed. Behind him were many hundreds of ghouls and dozens of banshees. More were coming from down the road.

"Prince Arthas, only your presence was lacking from the battlefield," said Dar'khan. "It will be a glorious day that comes with the rising of the sun."

"One can only hope," said Arthas as he dismounted. "Or we'll be looking very silly when we fail. Are they here?'

"Indeed, the hosts of the Ogre Legion and Blackthorn are approaching as we speak," said Dar'khan. "They should be here within the day.

"However, I fear that knowledge of our rising has been leaked. Even as we speak, Varimathras is on his way with his assembled hosts. We may face a battle before we are fully assembled."

"And what of the Forest Trolls?" asked Arthas.

"They are delayed, I am told," said Dar'khan.

"I see," said Arthas. "Where is Alexstrasza? She planned to gather additional support. Has there been any word of it?"

Dar'khan shook his head. "No, King Arthas."

Arthas was glad he'd come when he had. He turned his gaze northeast of the hill, across the river and looked at the blighted landscape. There in the distance was Varimathras' fortress, extending across the far side. Numerous ziggurats stood with spirit towers ready to fire on any who came. And he could see the forces gathering there in great numbers.

"Then we are exposed," said Arthas.

Then he felt the veil of reality tearing. Drawing Frostmourne he turned to where Varimathras was emerging. The red-clad dreadlord bowed. "Greetings, Prince Arthas, I come as an envoy from the Dreadlord's. We… did not fully appreciate the contributions made by your forces in the war against Azeroth. We wish to offer you a position of power worthy of your talents.'

"This ought to be amusing," said Arthas. "What is your offer?"

"Full control over the Capital City of Lordaeron. As well as mastery over the entire western plaguelands," said Varimathras. "A full third of all territory gained on this continent and-"

Arthas laughed. "A third? "Varimathras, you are a fool. Why should I settle for a third of that which is rightfully mine? I will claim it all by this sword. You can fall in line, or be swept aside.

"Make your choice, Dreadlord."

Varimathras remained silent. "Careful, Death Knight. We have powers you do not yet comprehend, and not only the dead are our puppets. If you do not submit to the Legion, then you will be destroyed in turn.

"You do not seriously think this ragtag group of ghouls will defeat the Legion?"

"It will do far more than that," said Arthas. "I will gladly accept your surrender if you offer it. Failing that, cease wasting my time."

Varimathras remained silent. "…So be it, our reply will come soon."

And he faded away.

"They're getting desperate," said Arthas.

"If I were King Arthas, I would accept it, then expand my power later," said Dar'khan.

"But you are not," said Arthas, sheathing Frostmourne.

And so they waited, assembling spirit towers to defend the hill. The armies of Varimathras continued to gather across the river. Then, sure enough, Blackthorn and his men came. The Bandit Lord of Alterac rode forward with his assembled forces. He was a tall man with a mustache and wielded a huge sword in hand. His men behind him were a shabby, rough, and ready sort. They wielded axes and javelins. Their only protection was hide armor and small shields, but every bit helped.

"Hail, King Arthas of Lordaeron!" called Blackthorn as he rode forward. "I am Blackthorn of the Remnants of Alterac! We have come to bring our swords to your service against the Dreadlords!"

Then from the other side came a host of ogres, wielding clubs made from saplings. The ground shook as they lumbered forward. And at their head was a huge ogre clad in black armor, wielding a mace. "And me Mug'thol! Me big ogre strongman! Smash puny dead!"

"I am glad to have you with us," said Arthas. "But has there been any word from Zul'jin."

"The forest troll appears to have been having difficulty gathering his people," said Dar'khan. "The local strongman, Zul'rogg, is defiant."

"Then we must make our plans without him and hope he arrives in time," said Arthas, looking through the shades eyes.

He saw Varimathras' armies marching. Even now they were crossing the bridge, and they were a vast host, headed by a huge force of abominations. Ghouls were behind and with them were many necromancers and crypt fiends. They were far greater in number than those Arthas' had gathered here.

"What is it?" asked Blackthorn.

"Varimathras is crossing the river in numbers far greater than I was expecting," said Arthas. "It seems the Dreadlords are putting forth a large part of their strength against us. This battle will be a decisive one.

"Mug'thol, form you're up upon the hill before the spirit towers on the north side! Blackthorn, have your skirmishers form up in front of Mu'gthols warriors. When the enemy comes, hurl your spears and retreat behind the mainline. Your melee warriors will stand by as a reserve. Dar'khan, I want our ghouls to shore up the ogres and act as a defensive screen. Have your obsidian statues stand by and heal any who need it."

"As you command," said Dar'khan.

And so the organization of the battle began. It was difficult coordinating former enemies to arrange the formation. Arthas became increasingly concerned that they would be overrun before they were ready. During this, the spirits of a number of ghostly elven maidens came forward. "Great King, allow us to serve you. We were created by Dar'khan to spread disarray among his enemies. By your will, they may possess key combatants among the enemy fighters to sew chaos in their ranks."

"Then do so," said Arthas.

Varimathras' armies were in sight now for even the everyday soldiers. Arthas rode before his forces, sword upraised. "Steady yourselves, my warriors! On this day, we break the power of the Dreadlords! On this day we will all be kings!"

"For Alterac!" called Blackthorn.

"For Ogre Legion!" cried Mug'thol. "For King Arthas!" cried Dar'khan,

Roars of enthusiasm came forward as Varimathras' forces stormed forward. The Dreadlord halted them before the fortifications and raised a hand. His fingers swirled with a vortex of fire. "Onward minions! Destroy the traitors!"

There was a snarling roar from the Dreadlord's forces. Then the vortex of fire was sent flying toward the main defenses. Arthas raised a hand and sent forth a spell to counter it. Magic met magic, and there was an explosion of magic, even as the army rushed toward his forces. Javelins landed among them, planting in abominations and killing ghouls. Arthas dismounted and sent Invincible away as the tide came toward him.

Swinging Frostmourne, he cleaved through a line of ghouls even as the ogres rushed to battle. Many corpses were created. The necromancers of Varimathras began to raise the bodies of the dead. But even as they did the banshees surged out from nowhere to possess many of them. Soon the enemy line was in chaos as Arthas hacked and slashed his way through his enemies.

He spotted Mug'thol and Blackthorn fighting together. They were hewing down one undead after another. One of the abominations cleaved an ogres head in, even as another ogre beat the creature down with a club. Ghouls and bandits fought together, as more and more spears were thrown.

Amidst this, Varimathras moved, hurling flames of fire that consumed clusters of enemies. Raising a hand, the Dreadlord cast a spell. One of Blackthorn's men screamed as a demon burst from his body, revealing a huge doomguard. The beast began to cleave down his enemies.

Raising Frostmourne, Arthas summoned the bodies of his enemies as ghosts. They fell on their former comrades and tore them apart. In the same movement, he resurrected many of those who had died on his side. Sending a wave of light, he burned away many hostile undead, then ran toward Varimthras.

As he did, he saw more reinforcements coming down the path to wash against their armies. Varimathras was wielding a huge axe. As he approached, brought it around to clash with Frostmourne. In a flurry of blows, Arthas drove him back, before locking blades, so they were face to face. "You've overplayed your hand, Dreadlord. A mistake you won't live to regret."

"You should have joined us, Arthas," said Varimathras, shoving him back and attacking back. "Your meaningless defiance will cost you dearly."

Arthas turned the axe and moved a foot forward to knock one of Varimathras' feet off-center. "I have already paid such a price as you could not comprehend." Bringing around the haft of his sword, he smashed Varimathras' across the face. "Nothing you can do could harm me." Varimathras fell backward. As Arthas stabbed downward, he rolled aside and sent a wave of fire at Arthas. But a divine shield ensured the fire did very little. Both of them were breathing. "Foolish Death Knight! You think you can match the might of the Dreadlords!"

"Considering the fact that I killed Tichondrius with my own hands, yes," said Arthas.

Varimathras' eyes widened. "Impossible!"

At that moment the sun rose over the hilltops, bathing the world in a new light. Alexstrasza appeared from the trees. A staff was in her hand, and her red hair was flowing around her as her hips swayed. Varimathras looked up in shock.

"What is this?" "Behold, the dawn rises!" cried Alexstrasza, raising the staff. "Go forth, creatures of Tirisfal! Wipe the undead who blight this land away!" And out of the trees came hundreds of creatures. There were gnolls and murlocs and common animals. Lesser birds, from hawks to doves streamed out to attack the hosts of Varimathras from behind. Stags and wolves ran side by side to overrun the undead as life itself arose against the Legion.

Varimathras did not panic. The Dreadlord flapped his wings and flew forward to rally his forces as they were driven in.

"Retreat!" called Varimathras. "Fall back to our bastion!"

But even as the retreat began, the forest trolls appeared at the bridge. They unleashed volleys of axes and spears into the enemy lines. More and more of them came as the noose was tightened.

"For Zul'jin!" called the trolls. "For da forest trolls!"

Surrounded on all sides, Varimathras' forces were systematically cut down. The Dreadlord rallied his forces as best he could, fighting valiantly. The first assault was repulsed, but Varimathras' armies would not sustain another strike. Arthas came forward as a silence fell over the dwindling army.

"The sands of time have run out for the Legion, Varimathras," said Arthas.

"Arthas, spare my life," said Varimathras. "I beg you! I can be of service— I swear it!" "So you can stab me as soon as my back is turned?" scoffed Arthas. "I think not." He raised his sword, but a hand came to his shoulder. He glanced up to see Alexstrasza.

"Peace, Arthas," said Alexstrasza. "We may at least listen to what he has to say."

Arthas turned back to Varimathras, who raised his hands. "I know what my brothers' plans are. I know where their forces are based. Just let me serve you, and I'll help you defeat him."

Arthas considered that if he didn't accept his surrender, he'd have to kill his warriors. He lowered his sword. "…So be it." He motioned to his warriors. "Take him to a cell to await until my pleasure is known."

Then he turned to Alexstrasza. "You are well met, Alexstrasza." His gaze turned to where the birds were returning from whence they came. "Are these those you spoke of?"

"Yes, these are the other races who dwell within this place," said Alexstrasza. "They have united to aid you against the common enemy of all who live."

"Then they are well met," said Arthas, before seeing a familiar forest troll, making his way through the crowds. "Zul'jin, your timing was excellent."

"I be figuring that since we be running late, better to cut off der line o retreat," said Zul'jin with a smirk.

"A fortuitous insight," said Arthas. He wondered if Zul'jin hadn't been waiting to see how things turned out first.

With Varimathras' surrender and the defeat of his army, his bastion was quick to surrender.

The Battle of the Tirisfal Glades had been a rush job. With the return of Ner'zhul Arthas had been forced to throw his plans together far more quickly. It had been a serious risk, but the results had been spectacular. Before he had even mobilized his army, Arthas had delivered a crushing blow to the Dreadlords.

Now his forces belonged to Arthas and the local creatures were waiting for an offer.

And so came the paperwork. A lot of paperwork. Arthas was sitting at his desk and writing potential treaties. Looking over to the maps he'd brought with him, he calculated what would be appropriate terrain to be given to them. Then he compared it against what Zul'jin and Blackthorn wanted. He had to try to satisfy everyone while also considering who was most powerful.

But, of course, Zul'jin wanted special treatment. And Blackthorn wanted the complete return of Alterac's previous borders. Neither of which were feasible in the situation.

Then he felt arms set themselves on his shoulders. He felt Alexstrasza looked over him at the papers. Her red hair fell over his chest as her breath went over his face. The proximity was pleasant thanks to her innate aura. "So it is done then. You've defeated the first of the three brothers, King Arthas."

"Yes, and if my calculations are correct, Detheroc will usurp control of Garithos. He'll then bring him in to secure his holdings," said Arthas, writing a few more lines. "With Varimathras we can locate where those are with far greater ease."

"It seems you are well on your way to victory, then," said Alexstrasza.

"I am," said Arthas, giving up and putting down the quill and turned to face her. "However, I must speak with you. I recently saw a vision of the Lich King, welcoming a new champion. We can't afford to slow our momentum. Quite the opposite, I will be relying on you for the next stage."

Alexstrasza drew herself up, and Arthas enjoyed the way her chest moved from the motion. "I will contact Malygos and see what I can learn on the subject. For now, you should take a few hours rest. You've earned it, and you don't want to run yourself ragged."

"Don't patronize me," said Arthas, resting one arm on the chair.

The next stage was going to be the critical one. If it worked, the war would be as good as won. If it failed, well, he'd have some problems.

Author's Note:

And the next chapter is up. Sorry, this took so long, I had some trouble finding inspiration. I ultimately decided that I had to change the order of the missions. This is owed to Arthas speeding up his schedule. I considered having the chapter focus on Alexstrasza. But I felt she worked better on a secondary character.

Enjoy.