Chapter 2: The Last Citadel of Lordaeron and Plans Unveiled
The breezes brought a distinct smell of the sea and fish, in the direction of the fleet. The deep blue waters shimmered and swayed. White puffy clouds rolled overhead, occasionally blocking out the sun providing a much needed shade. And in the not-so-distant sight of the crows nest on the ships, lay an island. The island, looking like it was made out of harsh desert lands harbored something not naturally formed. On it, was the city-colony of Theramore. The distinctly human architecture raised out of the sands as the Blood Elf fleet ever neared it. Alaric himself was relived that they had taken the correct route, and was not thrown off by the storm. He was also impressed at the size of the city itself. Theramore had existed for but a year or two, and its size was (not huge, like Stormwind, yet large as in the sense of it standing for only that amount of time) quiet impressive. At the fore of the city was a great rock face, probably fifty feet in height. In several places, the cliffs stooped down to small, rocky beaches. Behind the granite, sand, and limestone cliffs were houses made out of strange new woods with their green tiled roofs, shops, merchant stands, and docks stood together within a walls of chipped gray stone. What topped it off though, was the huge tower in the very center of the city.
Nearing the city, Alaric ordered his flagship to take position in the front of the flotilla. He spotted an entrance among the high cliffs. The alcove lead from one of the small beaches into the city itself, looking to be the only actual entrance from the sea to Theramore. From the opening to the city (which lay only a few dozen feet from each other) lay great arches of white marble as if to welcome any comers to the city. From there, an artificial 'river' led into the near center of the city to the docks.
The people of Theramore were denizens of several human nations, most of which came from Lordaeron. These people departed from Lordaeron before the Burning Legion's invasion. They were led by Jaina Proudmoore, a sorceress of the former Kirin Tor claiming that a 'prophet' or an 'oracle' had warned her of the invasion beforehand. Alaric couldn't really remember, or care for that matter. All that did matter to him, was that it was here so he would set up his base of operations.
As the first three ships of the fleet broke off and started down the 'river' crowds of humans flocked to the railings to see them. Alaric did not get the welcome of cheering and thanking he had wished. Instead, the people were resolute, stiff necked and cold eyed, looking at them with stony faces. Was it because they were Elves? It didn't truly matter so long as they were willing enough to work under him. The envoy ships of the fleet progressed through the 'river' passing under several more arches, before great stone statues replaced them. He recognized several of them such as the ones of Lords Turalyon, Terenas, Daelin Proudmoore (Jaina Proudmoore's father) and Lothar
"These people are amazing. They have been here but two years and they have built a city almost architecturally great as-"Alaric's voice was cut off.
"Sir, the docks lay just ahead. Shall we ready the troops?" one of his captains asked walking up to him.
"No. At first, let us act peacefully. We did die and bleed together with these humans in the Second War. Let us see if they are willing to work with us first. If not, then the hand of fate must be forced" he replied coolly pacing the wooden deck.
The three Blood Elf ships slowly halted and came upon the docks, where many other vessels lay in wait. Docking without permission on empty docks, Alaric and most of the crew of the ships departed on wooden planks to the piers that stuck out of the mainland.
All around, the city loomed. Its many buildings were stone and white washed, giving Theramore a brilliant radiance in the strong sun. In between different sections of building were trees, grasses, and plants he recognized from Lordaeron and Quel'thalas. It looked like the Theramorians tried to bring as much with them as they could.
As soon as he walked onto the pier, he and his captains were greeted by guards, claiming to be either Theramore guard, or strangely, Kul-Tiras marines.
"And who you be Elf?" one of them, probably the leader spoke up.
"I, am Alaric'Quel, Lord of the Blood Elves. I have led a fleet across the sea for the past few months. My soldiers and I are tired and wish to rest for a while"
"Anybody's welcome 'ere in Theramore. But first; what's your business here on the far side of the world...Blood Elf?"
"My business is my own. I wish to speak with Lady Proudmoore at once if you please" he then replied.
"No sir, you can't speak with the Lady-"the human ceased his talk immediately. "Hail, Lady Proudmoore. What brings you to the docks?" he then said, directing his attention to a young woman that was walking down a flight of white-washed stairs.
The woman, Jaina, lifted the hood on her robe to reveal a delicate face. "Why, to welcome our guests of course" she said. "You may return to your daily patrol captain. I don't believe these Elves will do much harm" The soldier bowed and led his group back to marching up and down the cobble stone streets. "You must forgive the people here sir. Since my father tried to wage yet another war on the Orcs on the mainland, the people are very wary of outsiders" Jaina spoke in a clear, strong voice.
"No need to forgive Lady. These are dark times. I could explain things better to you if we left the premises for a more private location" he replied a bit confused over the part of Admiral Proudmoore's invasion of the orcs.
Mrs. Proudmoore lead Alaric and his captains to the large tower, which she named 'Theramore Citadel'. Inside, they entered a large marble tiled room with a ceder table in the center. As they sat down, Jaina spoke up once again.
"So, Lord Alaric, what brings you to Theramore?"
"My men and I have traveled long and far. We are searching for several artifacts which shall enable us to provide a cure for the radical magic withdrawal from which we suffer" Alaric didn't say anything more of his plan to destroy the Scourge, or even of which artifacts he intended to collect.
"Well, you are certainly welcome to stay in Theramore as long as you wish" the Sorceress said.
"Thank you milady. Now, would you please explain what you meant by your father invading the orcs?" he asked inquisitively.
"Ah, well-"She hesitated for a moment. Her eyes looked deep in though and sorrow "After we had set up on Theramore, we made peace with the orcs. My father led fleet from Kul Tiras looking for survivors from the Legions invasion. He found us here, at peace with the Orcs. My father was a proud man, a man of honor, and he could not be suaded to see that we were at peace with the Orcs. He took over the city, and plunged us into a war. I cannot let that happen again, so I must disarm all of your forces trying to enter the city-just in case" she added a wink at Alaric.
After that, a small dinner was offered, in which they ate with a ravenous liking from being at sea for nearly three months.
A while passed of polite talking and stories told. Alaric asked as many questions about the geography of Kalimdor and of the Night Elves and their strategies, tactics, and even their known dwellings. Surely, if he was to run rampant through Ashenvale Forest, the Night Elves would try to interfere.
Afterwards, Jaina offered lodgings for as many of his men as she could find space for.
Finally when Alaric had left the Citadel, he came upon his quarters. A just room in a building next to the Citadel itself. Upon arriving, he had found that his Captains were already inside, with a map rolled out on the table. The map showed a rough sketch of the east coast of Kalimdor.
"Lord Alaric, I believe now would be a prime time to tell us of your plans" Eolas, First Captain spoke up.
"Yes, yes. For many years I have planned this. The fleet will land here at Saltmarsh Plains, but ten miles from Mulgore-"he was cut off by one his subordinates.
"Milord, that area is home to Durotar, the Orc nation! We simply cannot land there without a fight!"
Alaric smirked at the comment. "Of course not fool! The Orcs will be upon us before we even try to land on the beaches. We are going to thrust our way through them. We shall break the back of their..."Alaric searched his minds for the right words "...vaunted farce country. I shall not let those brutes stop me, for surely if we let them alone, they shall attack us from the rear as is such the way of the greenskin filth"
"Sir, why not sail up to the port of Nendis? Would that not be a good location to start out in?" another Captain suggested.
"No, it is to far north and too populated with Night Elves. The know their land better than we do, and once we enter Ashenvale, it will be quicker to get to Mount Hyjal from the Southern Pass"
"Mount Hyjal? Milord, we have followed you thus far without knowing what we are even doing. All we have gotten out of you is the same answer for two years; that we are going to cure ourselves and destroy the Scourge. Sire, what power lies in Mount Hyjal that will help us do so? The World Tree is gone. Blasted to oblivion. What is there now that will help us do such a deed?" Eolas said.
"Yes, upon Mt. Hyjal, the ashes of the World Tree lie. Upon that mountain we shall find salvation, for beneath the ruins of the World Tree, lies an ancient lake of mystical waters from which it sprouted. I intend to take the last waters of the Well of Eternity to power our race. With such power, we shall TEAR Northrend apart! We shall watch Arthas and his vaunted Lich King shredded to pieces with such powers!" Alaric had lost control of his temper. He had obtained such a hatred for Arthas and the Lich King, that some of his Captains (he had heard them remark in the shadows) believed that he was even losing his mind. Though none of the men had ever seen him this way till now. His usually pleasant fair face had turned red, his emerald eyes filled with an infinite rage and his crimson gloved hand banged on the table.
"Lord...wouldn't such powers attract the Burning Legion again?" one of the Captains spoke up after a while of silence.
"Nay, for I have found a way to protect the vials of power from which we shall transport the Waters. Do not be frightened men! I anger at the loss of eternal Quel'thalas and Silvermoon. Nothing shall stop us from retaking out lands, and putting an end to the Undead once and for all. When the other races see our power, they shall flock to us, and help us defeat what is left of the Scourge, for our powers alone shall not be enough to obliterate them. Imagine! An grand army of orcs, humans, night elves, gnomes, dwarves, trolls, naga, and all the other denizens of Azeroth uniting in arms to defeat our common foe. It shall be done!" Alaric ended.
His Captains were in such dismay of the show of power and though he had put into this, that they all took involuntary steps back and bowed.
"Milord, Alaric'Quel, of the Sunstrider Dynasty, we shall follow you till the ending of the world if such is your plan. Let us ride out to war!" Eolas replied passionately to Alaric's speech.
"For honor! For valor!" cried out the Captains whom were so moved by the speech.
"Thank you. Now I truly know that my men are willing to follow me to their deaths. If such is their fate, then let me go with them. But until that day, let us go on in victory. Make sure the men get sleep tonight. They will need it for tomorrow. Already Ms. Proudmoore has proved she will have nothing in our plans and I will not allow her to get in my way" Tomorrow, we shall dispose of the weak leadership on this island. By evening tomorrow, it will have a new leader, and we shall have a base camp for the campaign. Sleep well now men, for tomorrow, we begin ride to war"