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Chapter 14: Reaping the Whirlwind

Stromguard City, Arathi Highlands in Central Lordaeron, 622 Years of Azeroth

In the very center of the human nation of Stromguard lay the fortress city of Stromguard. The city was the key focal point for the entire history of the country, seeing as though the greater majority of the population lived either inside its walls, or in the surrounding valleys. Stromguard used to be a feudal society ruled by Barons and Dukes, but since the War of Attrition with Dalaran centuries ago, the King had taken his rightful place at the helm of a country with now a powerful army. Since that war, Stromguard had always relied heavily on its military power, and had one of the largest armies and greatest fortifications in Azeroth, including the amazing designs of the fortress capital.

"Where is the Elf?" old Thoras Trollbane inquired.

"He is being escorted through the battle strewn streets milord. Many men fell today, and many buildings as well. The debris from the catapults blocked many a road this day. Yet, he should be here soon" the King's advisor voiced.

The King squinted in pain as the Healer plucked an arrow from his armor. He was in the Royal Houses of Healing. Upon the walls he had commanded the battlements and turrets on the walls himself, inspiring the troops. And just at the moment he saw that glorious cavalry charge, an Undead arrow hit him in the chest plate. Luckily though, it did not pierce all the way, only partially wounding the flesh.

"You should be fine now King. Since the priests are healing others more wounded than yourself, I advise you stay put for the time being" the Healer advised.

"Bah! I shall not sit idle while the Undead gather their forces for another attack. Let them come, and we shall beat them back again!" he said, thirsting for battle. And with that he stormed out of the healing chamber and out onto the ramp that led to the Keep's wall. He looked out upon the open fields of the Arathi Highland where the blood from living and the rotting innards of the Undead lay strewn across the battlefield. His archers had done their job, destroying many of the Litch King's minions before they could ever reach the outer walls.

His advisor approached from behind. "King Trollbane, we have suffered moderate losses. The wall was breached only in two places. Yet the city is a disaster zone. Many tall structures were felled by the Undead's catapults and meat wagons"

"Yes, well it is not buildings that worry me. How is the moral of the troops?" he asked. The meat wagons had dropped many corpses of the villagers caught outside the walls of the city upon the simple people who had taken refuge inside the walls.

"King Thoras Trollbane of Stromguard, may I present to you, Lord Alaric'Quel of Quel'thalas" a footman adorned in golden and silver armor, said cutting into the conversation. The footman was one of the elite Royal Guard. Even though they scarcely numbered a hundred, the Royal Guard had held back the Undead legions at one of the breaches in the wall.

Behind the Royal Guard stood a tall figure dressed in golden chain mail and silver plate with a flowing green cape. He held his winged helmet between his arm and side as he stepped up to meet the king.

"What are you doing in my kingdom again Quel?" Thoras said with a venom in his voice.

Alaric was taken aback by it. He had just saved Stromguard and had been friends with Thoras when he was younger.

The Elf stood staring for a moment. Then, Thoras cracked into laughter. He came up to Alaric holding a hand out to him.

"Good to see you boy, good to see you! I thought you died when Silvermoon was taken. I am sorry, but communications are not what they once were" he repeated.

"You too Thoras" Alaric said also embracing the man's handshake. "But we can't sit here and reminisce. There are forces at work now, and we must act now to contend with them. I have returned now with a…prize from Kalimdor. We should speak more of this in closed quarters away from the ears of the men good sire Trollbane"

"Of course. Lets make our way to the Court" he said pointing out the strangely unblocked road to the Keep.

The two conversed for hours. Alaric told Thoras of his adventures in Kalimdor, and how he had acquired the Waters of Eternity.

"I plan to gather the armies of the remaining nations and set forth into the north. There we will campaign in search of the Litch Kel'thuzad, the Litch King's acting vassal in the Plaugelands. If we can eliminate him, then we can create a confusion among the Undead hordes long enough to set sail to Northrend and put an end to the Litch King with the Waters. Yet, there is one last piece of the puzzle that I need to utilize the powers of the Waters. I tried once before, right after we landed in Lordaeron. Yet that try nearly cost me my life and the life of the Brotherhood of Light's Cleric's. After speculation, I have discovered that the magics I need to control the Waters lie in the Book of Medivh. Only there with the Guardians of Tirisfal's magic can I possibly hope to control the Waters we so rightly fought for"

The King pondered at the information he had just received. "So you have acquired these…Waters of Eternity. They are supposedly of immense magical power, so much so that you cannot control them without the most sacred book of magic known to men" he reviewed.

"Yes, that is an legible summery" Alaric concluded. "But I do not know if the armies of the Alliance will be enough. When I left, the Alliance was in tatters. The armies were scattered and in full retreat. I must scrape up what I can for this campaign"

"Alaric, the Alliance has changed since you were gone. Effective as October 25th, 621, the Second Articles of Alliance were signed. Varian Wrynn drafted them himself. Though against my will, I signed the Articles. This new Alliance gives far too much power to the King of Stormwind though. He is now close to a dictator, and we are but advisors. Yet what was I supposed to do? Our lands were overrun, and this was the only protectorate and help I could turn to!"

"Hm…this may serve to our purposes" Alaric said thoughtfully. "If it is Varian Wrynn who is in control of this new Alliance, then it is him that I must convince to see my way. Good friend Thoras, I believe that my time is up in this city, and I must now travel to grand Stormwind. The storm is coming, and I am now reaping the whirlwind"

"Leaving already? But you have just arrived, and from battle and chaos as well!" Thoras rebuked.

"Yes, but I must leave. Time is of the essence. Speaking of time, Thoras, what means of travel do you have that I can use?" Alaric said now hurrying.

"I always keep my loyal gryphon in the royal stables. Though he may not be a horse, he is the most loyal of my subjects. Apollinax shall carry you far and fast Alaric. He of course was a gift from the dwarves of Aieres Peak, so you already know his capabilities. I wish you the best, and by the way. My city is in ruins and the defenses shattered. What will you do with your army?"

"The Expedition will stay in this city and help guard it. The Brotherhood of Light's Clerics have the Waters of Eternity safely hidden away, and so they shall be staying as well. Farewell Thoras, and if all goes well, I should return within the week upon Apollinax" and with that, Alaric shook the hand of Thoras once more and made off to the royal stables where the noble Appolinax gryphon lay nestled. After a quick jolt to wake it up, Alaric was off on the majestic beast.

………………………………………………

The gryphon ride was smooth for the most part. The ride had taken the entire day and night and now finally reaching the sunrise Alaric could see the distant spires of Stormwind in the distant sky. As he neared, the more majestic buildings came into view.

The city was one that was built to withstand a siege. After the horrible battles that had razed it in the First War, the people of Azeroth were resilient and prepared to fight at all times. Even after the terrible scars that had been inflicted in the Second War, and the hordes of refugees moving down from the north Stormwind and its lands had still stood as the greatest bastion of human might in the world.

Yet these were troubled times for the kingdom. The provinces of Westfall, a southern area in Azeroth, had been left to decay after the First War and fell into the hands of marauders and bandits. To the east the remnant of the Horde struck hard against them, and always to the north lay the threat of the Undead.

As the glorious shapes and architecture grew closer, Alaric's mount now began to slow, and drop down. In the cobblestone streets he could see the thousands of citizens walking around in the bustling and colorful various districts. To left and right there were other gryphons landing at a gryphon roost which served as transportation to the outposts of the Alliance.

Behind the gryphon roost another half a kilometer of city perhaps lay Stormwind Keep, the greatest fortification ever built by the hands of men. Inside the wall itself seemed like another city filled with the Castle, turrets, armories, barracks, even merchants and housing for nobles.

"And that is where I wish to go" Alaric said to himself. Slowly the gryphon eased down into the gryphon roost which towered above the rest of the city.

Upon landing, a man walked up to him demanding pay for the landing. Alaric obliged dryly and slowly descended upon the magic driven elevator.

He walked the streets of the city slowly enjoying the senses of civilization out of danger once more. The scent of freshly baked bread, the sight of the wooden taverns, the fluttering banners, and laughing men. It was good to see Stormwind once again. He had been here a few times before, but only in prologue to the Third War.

As he approached the Keep, more and more guards appeared. At last though, after nearly an hour of walking and conversing with the people of the city he had reached the massive wall. In front of him, the gate to the Keep was guarded by more than a dozen of the local barracks.

'Who goes there!" one demanded as Alaric walked up to the adorned gate.

"Alaric'Quel of Quel'thalas. I have urgent matters to discuss with the King" he responded.

"No ones gonna' see the King unless e' says so!" the guard captain spattered.

"There is no time for this" Alaric said stretching out his hand. With a flick of his wrist and a swish of magic, the guards fell to the ground paralyzed.

Finally within the walls of the Keep, he wandered in search of the King's Chambers. Suddenly, a voice called out "Whats this? An Elf in the royal Keep! You are under arrest Elf!" another guard said as he and his patrol recognized him. An idea formulated in Alaric's mind. Let them capture you, and bring the King to you instead of wasting time looking for him.

"Fine! I offer no resistance! No weapons do I have, just inform the King that an old acquaintance wants to speak with him, for I have information crucial to the survival of the kingdom" Alaric shouted out.

"The King'll do what he pleases. But for you, its to the gallows!" And into the gallows Alaric went. Placed behind iron bars of the Stormwind Gallows, Alaric now waited quietly for the King to arrive. It took nearly half the day, but finally, the prison doors swung open and in walked King Varian Wrynn with all his pomp and royalty.

"I didn't believe it when they told me Alaric'Quel was in my city" the King said slowly studying Alaric. "We have not had a pleasant past you and I, so speak now what you have to!"

"As always, a pleasure to see you your highness" Alaric said back to him, voice thick with sarcasm. "But as for my information, I believe it is best if we speak in a more…private location" Alaric said looking straight into Vairans grey eyes.

Slowly he nodded.

………………………………………

"So, you want me to hand over control of the armies of the Alliance to you! A rouge elf that bribed my best general for the soldiers of our soverngity!" Varian bellowed, voice echoing in the hall.

"King, I will tell you what I told Anduin Preaton. I have uncovered an ancient power that lay dormant for 10,000 years in Kalimdor. This power I have collected shall be used to destroy the Litch King and his damned empire forever. Your lands are slowly being encroached and infiltrated. Yes, King, the Undead agents are here even within this very city and perhaps even this very Keep. Now, to save what we can from this burning hulk, we must stop, or at least slow down the advance of the Undead. Just a week ago, your grand army was absolutely destroyed according to my sourses"

Varian winced at the thought of the 1st Army's destruction. "What sources would those be Quel?"

"King Trollbane of Stromguard" Alaric answered.

"A week ago, I was surprisingly visited by a prophet claiming to be the voice of the light. Apparently, he told me one such as you, a messiah would come with a power strong enough to burn the sickness of the Undead from Azeroth forever. Now…what have you to suggest?"

"King Wrynn, over the past few months, my comrades and I have traversed the difficult terrain of Kalimdor. We faced the full might of the Orcish nation of Durotar, the power Night Elves, and of course the indigenous life. Upon reaching the battle site of the Battle of Mt. Hyjal, we summoned the Waters of Eternity; the very source of what our Sunwell came from. Yet these Waters are far more powerful than any other magics that we have ever encountered. These Waters give of some kind of aura…a infinite well of power that all things are possible in. And so I have come back now to use this new weapon against the enemies of our world. Yet, their power is so much, that I alone cannot control them. Not even the expert mages of the Brotherhood of Light's Clerics can control them as we painfully learned several weeks ago…And so, we must collect one more item; the fabled Book of Medivh which first told this world of the Waters of Eternity, and how to control them"

"And you wish to control all Alliance forces for this…crusade? What will you do? Where shall you look for the Book of Medivh?" Varian implied.

"When the Undead waves finally broke the ranks of the Alliance in the Siege of Dalaran, the Book went missing. Nearly costing him his life, the wizard Rhonin tried to recover the Book and gather up the historical items of Dalaran in its final hours. He stumbled upon the Litch, Kel'thuzad. This, Kel'thuzad apparently had the Book of Medivh, and used it to summon the Burning Legion into this world. Now, Kel'thuzad is the Litch King's greatest vassal in Lordaeron, and keeps the Undead there on the leash"

Varian caught the eye of Alaric and smiled "And so, if we are able to wage a final war upon Kel'thuzad, it would first of all distract the Litch King from your plan. Secondly, we could capture the Book of Medivh, and lastly destroy Kel'thuzad and throw the Undead in Lordaeron into disarray! A bold plan for an Elf I must say. I always believed your kind to be overcautious and impractical"

Alaric snorted at the comment then continued "Now, good King. Since the end of the Third War, I have waged a guerilla war upon the Undead, as have many of the last armies of Lordaeron and Quel'thalas. During this time, I constructed such strategies and plans all leading up to this moment; this one critical moment. 2 years ago, I formed the nucleus of my army made up of Blood Elves. It expanded and now has reached its zenith, yet it alone cannot do this deed by itself. I need the armies and entire output of the Alliance to back me in the final, glorious venture"

Alaric let the moment settle for a while, while Varian sat quietly in thought.

He then stood up, and stuck a hand out to Alaric. "Let us be rid of the Scourge forever" he said as Alaric shook the hand.

"Now, good King, we must wage the War of the Ruins on the offensive. What is the status of the Alliance?" Alaric queried.

"The greatest armed force of the Alliance under my nephew Duke Winfield of Ethren is marching north as we speak. They should be in Stromguard by the end of the week. The Duke has nearly 40,000 men under his control. The 1st is regrouping on the outskirts of Southshore for a counter attack. They number nearly 6,000. The 2nd and 4th Armies left Crestfall nearly two weeks ago to set up base in Theramore and protect our colonies in Kalimdor. We have a great abundance of men spread out across southern Lordaeron, yet they are not grouped into a single fighting force. And there is also the pockets of resistance in the Plaugelands. That is all the forces under my immediate command, though there are bound to be other forces working to defeat the Scourge that we can recruit as well" Varian summarized.

"Very well. Now, we must set to the strategizing immediately, but before we do, I beg to ask you a question" Alaric stated.

"What?"

"What was the name of this prophet whom told you of me?" Alaric asked, voice deep in thought.

"He stated his name was once Kelen-Lightkeeper. Why of do you ask?"

"Because it was the same prophet whom first told me about the Waters of Eternity on Mt. Hyjal" Alaric answered.

…………………………………………

3 weeks later, near Southshore

The city of Southshore had once again fallen into Alliance hands. It had turned out that General Anduin Praeton had not been killed in the Southshore Massacre. With the guidance of the new Lord-Marshal Alaric'Quel of the Second Alliance, the outnumbered 6,000 men of the tattered 1st Army took back the city. As they advanced over the bodies of their fallen comrades, they sang the songs of victory.

Alaric sat in the abandoned town meeting center. He had converted the building once used to debate issues into a crowded center of war. From here, he had organized the 1st Army back into a fighting force. Slowly but surely, the scattered Alliance armies began to regroup and prepare for new battles. And soon, all would be ready for the campaign in the Plaugelands.

He stepped outside into the salty breeze, the wind blowing from the sea. He looked around to see the charred skeletons of buildings. A picture of death for this town. And yet, he then looked around again to see peasants, and his own soldiers rebuilding; a picture of hope for the town.

He then climbed the ladder to reach the top of the watch tower. His army was assembling for its march into the deapths of the darkest enemy the world had ever known. Finally reaching the top he saw in all its glory, the 1st Army's camp spread all across the flowing grass on the green hills.

Slowly taking in the sight of the ever growing army, he whispered quietly to himself "Yes, by Light this time we will do it! This time, we will win and take back what is ours!"

Armies of the Alliance:

All Alliance armies as of Febuary, 622 are under the control of Alaric'Quel. From the death filled air of northern Lordaeron to the lush forests of Elywen the forces of Light regroup. In Stromguard, the Expedition and Royal forces of Stromguard prepare for their advance. Just outside of Stromguard, Duke Winfield, now second in command of the Alliance military campaign breaks camp and prepares to move forward.

In the ruins of Quel'thalas, Lordaeron, and Dalaran, small groups resistance fighters unite with rumor from the south that a great push is being prepared to wipe the slate clean once and for all.

The navies of the Alliance nations are not in the command of Alaric, yet in the capable hands of Admiral Clearis of Kul-Tiras. They are busy transporting the men, equipment, and other supplies from the Dwarven lands and Azeroth.

Slowly but surely, the forces of Azeroth are preparing for the grand push that will win the war, and end the suffering.

(Tune in next time for the climactic string of battles that will occur in the Plaugelands and set the inevitable in motion in Chapter 15)

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