Chapter Five: The Ashbringer

Renault Mograine returned to Stratholme without the forces he had been sent to get. It was a bitter pill for him, especially given how much those soldiers would be needed. But King Wilhelm had made a decision, and despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to talk him out of it.

As he entered the gates, Saiden Dethronan caught him a huge bear huge. Then he broke it. "Excellent timing, Renault. We were just about to send out search parties."

"I had to do some negotiation with King Wilhelm," said Renault. "He's concerned the undead might strike at us from the south and wants his garrison to remain behind."

"The south?" asked Saiden. "But Dalaran is Alliance territory. "

Renault sighed. "Not anymore. The Kirin Tor have had it restored to them by 'King' Arthas and have now inducted Kel'thuzad into their ranks. It is possible he could hit us from Dalaran if he summoned his allies to war." It seemed as if the traitor prince had his hands in everything these days. There had been a period where he had been practically running the war effort. Now it seemed there wasn't one at all. "The only consolation is that the Dreadlord's are finally as miserable as we are."

"Well, that is something," said Saiden grimly. "Still, I should not become too despondent. The light tests us, but it does not put more on our shoulders than we can bear. Retribution will fall upon those who defy it, one way or another." His tone brightened. "Your father just returned from the front."

Renault looked up. "What of it?"

Saiden eyed Renault in concern. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

"Not really, to be honest," said Renault.

Saiden had known Renault a long time, and no doubt guessed his reasons. "Alexandros was not himself, Renault. The wars haunted him, driving him to near madness. Don't you think you should put the matter behind you?"

"The wars haunt everyone, Saiden," said Renault.

Saiden paused. "I am not pretending that what he did was right, Renault. And I do not ask you to forgive him. However, it would be well if you would go to meet him. He is still your blood, and I think you should try and reconcile with him.

"In any case, it would be well if he received this news directly from you. When last I heard he was heading toward his old home, to meet with your brother."

Renault nodded. "As you command."

He made his way up the slope toward the old Mograine household. It had never been the same since Darion was born, not that Father acknowledged the fact. There had been a time when Renault had wanted to be like his father. He remembered there were days when Alexandros had been kind, but those were few and far between. Most days it was either stern instruction or drunken fury.

But then, Alexandros had been part of the worst battles in the Second War. Renault remembered days when his father would wake up screaming. He'd grope for weapons, seeing enemies who weren't there. Only Mother had been able to calm him in these fits. Father had gotten past them, but by the time he had, Renault had been too old to care. Then Darion had killed Mother on his way out of the womb, and all Alexandros' fatherly affection went to the brat.

Even so, Renault decided that he would try to move past it. For Saiden's sake, at least.

Soon enough, he saw Alexandros Mograine himself, walking across a field. And there was Darion, running toward him. They embraced, as Renault drew near, keeping to the shadows out of habit.

"Father, you have returned," said Darion. "You've been gone a long time, Father."

"Nothing could keep me away from here, Darion," said Alexandros. "Not from my home and family."

"Father, I wish to join you in the war against the undead!" said Darion. "I want to fight! I can sit idle no longer!" What a pretentious imbecile. It was as if Darion had drawn his speech from the worst written dialogue of the century.

But Alexandros smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Darion Mograine, you are barely of age to hold a sword, let alone battle the undead hordes of Lordaeron. I could not bear losing you. Even the thought…"

"If I die, Father," said Darion, "I would rather it be on my feet! Standing in defiance against the undead legions! If I die, let me die with you!" This was nauseating.

"My son, there will come a day when you will command the Ashbringer and with it, meet out justice across this land. I have no doubt that when that day finally comes, you will bring pride to our people. Lordaeron will be a better place because of you." Renault's blood turned to ice. His gaze fell to the weapon at Alexandros' side, and he put a hand to his own sword. "But, my son, that day is not today. Do not forget."

He, the firstborn, was to be all but disowned so this spoiled child could play at knighthood.

Renault almost killed him then and there. It would be easy, just step out of the shadows and run him through. Darion would be easy to kill; he could say bandits did it. No one would know. But he didn't, because while he might despise the old bastard, Renault was not far gone enough to fall to murder even if he deserved it.

Instead, he walked around the tree. "Touching."

Darion paled as he saw him, and Alexandros flinched. He'd been caught. "Renault I-"

"Wilhelm has refused to mobilize his troops," said Renault, not trusting himself to speak of anything but war. "He believes that 'King' Arthas may launch an assault against us from the south. I believe his concerns are justified, given that the Kirin Tor have all but bent the knee."

"What?" said Alexandros. "How did this happen?"

"I am unsure," said Renault. "However, Kel'thuzad is now a member of the Six once more. I expect we'll face a war on two fronts very soon. Why have you come back? I was given to understand that you were to assault Stratholme? Have you received yet another vision from Queen Alexstrasza?"

"The battle of Stratholme is already over," said Alexandros. "Balnazzar has surrendered to Queen Alexstrasza."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Renault.

"From what I gather, 'King' Arthas has been operating according to Alexstrasza's will," said Alexandros. "Whether he has done so since the fall of Archimonde, or taken up her banner recently, I do not know. But the Dreadlord's are to face judgment from her.

"We of the Scarlet Crusade have been asked to send representatives."

"Why can't we just kill them?" asked Darion. "They deserve it!"

"It is more complicated than that, I assume," said Alexandros. "Perhaps the Dreadlords have devised some means to return from the grave. Or Alexstrasza may have some plan to use them against the Legion. Whatever it is, we ought to hear what she had to say. She is the Guardian of Life."

"What did she have to say during the Third War?" asked Renault.

Alexandros' expression darkened. "Renault, you know as well as I that the Red Dragon Flight was decimated. Partially by us. Even if all of the dragons were gathered, it would not have been enough to kill Archimonde. I saw him once, and he was more terrible than any orc or undead. The only reason I'm alive is that I made a run for it and tried fighting enemies who weren't beyond my ability to defeat." Didn't that sum up Alexandros' military career perfectly? Renault would be greater.

"In any case, we lack the power to defeat King Arthas directly. I hate the traitor with all my heart and soul, but having him in power in the east is better than the Dreadlord's.

"In time we can challenge him. But what we need is time, time to gather our forces. Solidify our defenses. My brethren in Tauren Mill have already reached an agreement with him, and he is, so far, abiding by it.

"I mean to go to this meeting. I want you to come with me."

Was this a peace offering? To save face after all but disowning Renault for the snot-nosed brat that killed Mother? "As you wish. Saiden Dethronan will no doubt have something to say on all this."

"Then we'd best go to him," said Alexandros. "I'll need you to find someone among the priesthood to represent the Church of Light as well. They'll need to be of sufficient rank to be credible, but also cool-headed."

"Why did you request two traits from our priests that are self-contradictory?" asked Renault.

Alexandros laughed, but it was nervous. Finally, he looked at Darion. "Darion, I must speak with your brother alone for a moment."

Darion nodded and left. Alexandros then looked to Renault. "…Listen to me, Renault, what I said-"

"What you said is what you meant," said Renault.

"The Ashbringer is a powerful sword, Renault," said Alexandros. "It can win a thousand battles, but in the wrong hands it could corrupt the wielder-"

"My hands?" guessed Renault.

Alexandros sighed. "Renault, I am far from blameless. But Darion has something in him that most men lack, myself included." What nonsense, the only thing the boy had was meaningless bluster.

"Then what makes you qualified to wield the Ashbringer?" asked Renault.

Alexandros looked down. "…There was no one else to do it.

"Uther was dead, so was Gavinrad. The whole Alliance was falling into tatters, and Wilhelm was barely together. So I used it and did what I could. I rushed into battle and tried to save anyone I could.

"Others fought with me, and I led them as best I can." He drew the Ashbringer and Renault marveled at its red blade, like a living flame within the metal. "I'm unworthy of the weapon I wield. Few men in the world today are."

"I understand." lied Renault through his teeth.

Lying was easy. Renault had learned to do it very well over the years.

The view from southern Stratholme had changed a great deal since the last time he had been here. Back then the last had been under assault by blight. It had been wrestling with the darkness constantly. The grass had been dead or dying, and the trees had been withering. Now it was in a sort of twilight, neither fully dead nor fully alive. Yet the war had halted, and it was trapped between the two.

Much like himself. Arthas remembered the words of Malfurion, saying that he and the land were one. Now he wondered if that was really true. Still, it was not presently relevant. He was waiting by the crossroads where he had met the prophet all that time ago, and Alexstrasza was with him.

He looked to the beautiful redhead and appreciated her appearance. Particularly how little she wore at any given time. "I find it ironic that Alexandros Mograine is considered the great hope of the Alliance. I've only met the man once and never fought him. I suppose he got the position by virtue of not being around when all the major battles went down."

Alexstrasza put a hand to his chin. "Be nice, Arthas. We can't afford to alienate him."

"Oh come off it, Alexstrasza," said Arthas. "Every single person I've negotiated with so far has rattled off a list of my sins, but the minute I shoot back, I'm in the wrong."

"No, I just think you should be the better person in these negotiations," said Alexstrasza.

Arthas shifted in mock confusion. "There must be some mistake. I thought I was negotiating with a paladin, not the physical embodiment of sin. It's hard to think of anyone else who could be quite so terrible as myself. Though I admit, you seem to have me at a disadvantage in terms of murder by inaction."

Alexstrasza laughed. "Stop it." Then she halted. "They're coming this way now. I'd best take the lead in these negotiations."

"By all means," said Arthas.

Alexstrasza stepped forward as Arthas faded to the background. Around the corner came a party of three. First, there was Alexandros himself, whose head was balder than before. He had more gray hairs. Then there was a man about Arthas' age with a short orange beard and a hammer on his back. Besides them, however, was a majestically beautiful woman.

She had tan skin that was on display. Her skintight red outfit bared her midriff and long legs. It also showed off her immense curves, particularly her bust. She had long white hair that fell around her shoulders, and she wore a very stylish hat. Her eyes flashed, and she looked with scorn on them.

"Queen Alexstrasza, we have come as called," said Mograine.

"I am glad to see all of you," said Alexstrasza. "However, where is King Wilhelm?"

"Matters to the south demand his attention," said Mograine stiffly. Then his eyes fixed on Arthas. "Prince Arthas."

Arthas let the title slight slide and nodded. "Alexandros Mograine. You're looking well for one of your advanced years."

"I never thought they would be advanced enough to see this happen to my homeland," said Alexandros. Wait, was he not making a self-righteous speech? This was new.

"Well, pride does come before the fall," said Arthas.

"Who are your companions?" asked Alexstrasza quickly.

Alexandros looked to the other man. "This is my son," he turned to the woman. "Renault Mograine, and Inquisitor Sally Whitemane."

"We are honored that you have come to his place," said Alexstrasza. "May I-"

"I shall not parley nor exchange pleasantries with one devoid of the power of the light!" said the woman.

"Sally-"began Renault.

"You and your kind shall pay a price of blood tenfold what you have done to the innocent of this land!" cried Sally. "All all-consuming flame shall wash across every farm, every wood, every tree! The impure and the heretics shall be burned away! The beast races shall suffer and die, their children impaled on stakes as the screaming of-"

"Sally!" said Renault.

Sally Whitemane fell silent and shifted, becoming aware of Mograine's looked. She seemed unsure of how to continue. Best to end this. "…An attitude I can respect, if only because you're obvious about your intentions," said Arthas. "I expect you'll fit right in with everyone else."

Sally Whitemane froze and then scowled in silence.

The bitter laughter disguised a certain paranoia. Arthas had the feeling that the Scarlet Crusade was not as well unified as they'd been led to believe.

The Scarlet Crusade was not as well unified as some thought. When Alexandros had 'founded' it, it had been little more than a name. Something to give the illusion of a unified war effort where there was none. There had been dozens of different small bands of heroes that he'd led in a series of battles. In those days he'd been willing to take anyone, as long as they wanted to kill the undead.

When it became a formal order, Alexandros found himself having to mediate disputes. Some among the order were overzealous, and some took that to murderous degrees. For the most part, he'd focused on leading battles and let each faction hold their own ideals. There hadn't been time to do be picky with the Legion rampaging around.

Only now that they were traveling to Stratholme was Alexandros questioning this policy. "Renault, what is she doing here? I thought I told you to pick someone diplomatic."

"I did," said Renault flatly. "Whoever it was had to be high ranking."

"She just launched into a tirade about how she intended to murder the people we are meeting with," said Alexandros. "How is that diplomatic?"

"Yes, and Isillien would have done exactly the same thing." said Renault. "if I'd picked anyone besides these two, I'd be undercutting their authority."

"And how is Sally doing it any better?" asked Alexandros. He remembered a sweet, devout, white-haired girl who his son had played with. Evidently, her faith had taken a different form.

Renault shrugged. "Our enemies may be distracted by her neckline."

Alexandros stared at him. "Is that really why you chose her?"

"There was no way I'd be able to find a high ranking priest who was sane," said Renault. "Isillien has seen to that. Sally, at least, I can reason with."

Alexandros sighed. "Nevermind, I'll talk to her."

Quickly he moved over to Whitemane, who was riding at the back of the formation, looking very awkward. She looked as if she wanted to start screaming blood and death. It was what the priests did to soldiers before battles. Mograine had accepted it as a way to motivate the men when morale was low. That may have been a mistake.

"Sally, do you remember what we talked about before?" he asked gently. "About you being diplomatic?"

"It is diplomatic to tolerate the very existence of these traitorous abominations!" said Sally suddenly. "They should all be destroyed, down to the last ghoul!"

"Yes, and we all agree on that," said Alexandros. "However, in this situation, we cannot afford to kill them. We have to negotiate. So, I would really appreciate it if you did not make any more speeches like that."

"What else can be said to such blemishes on the face of the world?" asked Sally. "They must be destroyed."

Alexandros did not want to be here right now. He had the feeling that he was falling victim to his own ideology. When he'd first gotten back to find the Kingdom in ashes, he'd said a lot of things. He'd ranted and raved and attacked in a fury, letting his anger motivate him where no hope could. "Yes, they must," said Alexandros. "But right now, we need to stall for time. I need you to not doing anything to provoke them. Or give them any kind of idea of their plans. And you shouldn't preach the gospel of the light while we're here either, it could raise tensions."

"You ask me not to preach our holy texts?" asked Sally.

Alexandros sighed. "No, I ask that you not preach our holy texts. You have a firebrand style that would alienate the people we're supposed to be meeting with. Actually, it's probably for the best if you say nothing at all."

Sally's eyes flared, and she looked outraged. "But-"

"Does what you are about to say involve death, torture, or dismemberment?" asked Alexandros.

Sally remained silent, then nodded guiltily. Alexandros sighed. "Then don't say it."

They reached the gates of Stratholme later that day. As they did, they saw a great army, or perhaps, many great armies. There were forest trolls, and ogres, and undead and humans. Piles of corpses were being piled. Antonidas met them at the opened gates and rode up to them.

"Alexandros, you arrive at last," said Antonidas.

"Indeed I do, Archmage Antonidas," said Alexandros. "I've heard some, disturbing rumors recently."

"More than rumors I'm afraid," said Antonidas. "We'll discuss the matter in private once everything is settled. For now, we have prepared an area for you to camp. As you can see, the city is ours. A few hours ago, Balnazzar's forces opened the gates and let us in without a fight."

"To what end would they make such a surrender?" asked Renault.

"I imagine they wanted to live," said Arthas. "Their situation was hopeless. Even if my assault failed, yours would come next and finish the task. Balnazzar gave in because he hopes to negotiate a deal. One which doesn't involve his head getting chopped off."

"And you intend to give him one?" asked Alexandros.

"I am considering the possibility, yes," said Arthas. "Much to my chagrin. That is why we're all here. Lordaeron is a complete mess at the moment with no clear borders or unified authority. My hope is that if we get all the faction leaders in one place, we can find mutual accommodation."

Antonidas scoffed. Arthas looked at him. "You have something to say Antonidas?"

"I need not say it, do I?" asked Antonidas, before disappearing in a flash.

Arthas sighed. "Ah, the fortunes of war and the sore unfortunates. We have a great deal to discuss tomorrow. But for now, I will take my leave."

"It would be my darkest nightmare to keep you," said Alexandros.

He was getting far too old for this.

Author's Note:

So, remember that conversation where Alexandros assures Darion he'll command the Ashbringer? It becomes a lot less heartwarming when you remember that Renault Mograine was alive. Not just alive, but still good, and an accomplished war hero. And it goes a long way to explain why he stabbed his old man.

Also, the Scarlet Crusade's lore is a mess. Some sources say that Mograine founded the Scarlet Crusade. But others say he merely inspired it.

My interpretation is that Alexandros sort of did both. He inspired the movement and led battles for it. But ultimately the order was sort of built around him. This would explain why it was so easy to keep going after he got killed. He existed independent from the chain of command.

For the record, I don't buy that Alexandros would have had a chance against Arthas. My reading of him is that he was smart enough, or lucky enough, to never run into the high tier scourge enemies. This led to him winning a series of minor victories that gave people a fighting chance. I actually feel this enhances his character. It means Alexandros was just an ordinary man doing the best he could where all the great heroes had failed.