Epilogue:
Elwynn Forest, Kingdom of Azeroth
Four months had passed since the final battle in Northrend. He, Anduin Praeton had assumed full control over the remnants of the army that had marched upon the frozen planes, and had managed to evacuate as many survivors as he could. He had no doubt now that the war was over.
Leaving a guard across the southern realms of Lordaeron, the new High General, still a rank below Grand Marshal, had fortified the south as much as he could, setting up a force able to repel any attacks that the Scourge might make, though it was unlikely that they would be able to counter for a very long time.
Though the war had ended, Praeton still felt that it had left its profound impacts upon the earth, the weakening of the Scourge, the potential of the Alliance's power, and far more facts and equations that would effect it later.
Now here they were, the last of the Stormwind regiments that had been too decimated or fought out to stay on guard in the Hillsbrad Foothills, Arathi Highlands, the newly acquired strongholds in Silverpine returning to their homes.
Dethal had taken the detachment of Elves and left the fleet as they sailed precariously back to Alliance territory and returned to Quel'thalas, of which most of the Blood Elves that had participated in the war stayed in. He seemed changed by the face of the war, more bitter and angry towards the Alliance that could not forever rid the Scourge. Slowly the messengers from Quel'thalas began to fade, and stopped coming at all. Whether they were taken by the Undead or severed themselves from the Alliance Praeton knew not.
As the sun peeked through the tall branches of Elwynn, Praeton felt warmth he hadn't known in many years. It had been long since he had been home, and his last stop had only been a token visit to the King, where he had been brutally lectured.
"Sire, Stormwind lies another league away. We should be able to see her walls through the trees soon enough!" his cartographer cried out, tears welling in his eyes.
"Indeed…we have made it back, but yet another damned loss. Another opportunity lost, another war grinding so many young men and women into dust" his de facto second in command muttered.
"No. This war didn't require full victory" Anduin said slowly, first to himself, then to the men in the column that followed him. "We pushed the Scourge back. We retook many lands for Lordaeron, and the Elves. We made safe the homes of many thousands that clung to fear for years. The Scourge has been greatly wounded, and has been humbled. Nobody won this war, except decisively us. The world will now change. It is a time of peace now. We have made that peace, for it will be long before the Scourge can act again. Rejoice in your justice, and bathe in the sun of freedom once more men of Stormwind, for we have indeed gained liberty through this war, lest the Scourge overpower us within the next few years. This fight is over"
The ragged men looked up to him, eyes confident in his words. And so they set on, the road to Stormwind now paved and shortening. Soon, they would see their beloved city again, and rest in the comfort of their beds.
As the company went out from under the cover of the trees, they beheld the gleaming white citadel of Stormwind Keep rising in the distance, and the massive city gates before them. It was glory incarnate. The golden sun threw down its rays upon the marble slabs, flickering off the shined cannon and the armor of the City Guard upon the walls.
As they came near the city, Praeton realized that there was another great column exiting from the city gates. As the two passed, Anduin noticed a great determination on the faces of the crimson plated warriors. When they're regiments neared the battered Stormwind soldiers, they cheered them on, "Huzzah!" they would cry.
Anduin instructed for the remaining soldiers to continue into the city and make meet their hero's welcome in the courtyard. After his orders had gone out, he sought out the commander of the column which was now going by, a long red snake bearing the marks of Lordaeron.
Finding one sergeant, he implied "Ho there, Sergeant!"
The man looked stunned that of all the men in the column he had been picked. "Sire! The great Anduin Praeton! Your name is worthy in the halls of the king beside those of Lothar's and Uther the Lightbringer!" his red chained gauntlet pointed to the interior of the gates, where stood the 5 great statues of Alleria Windrunner, Danath Trollbane, Kurdan the Aeire Dwarf, Khadgar, and Lord General Turalyon. The five celebrated heroes whom had given the ultimate sacrifice to save Azeroth from destruction when the orcish world of Draenor began to break up, a fate which would have followed into this earth and rend it to pieces.
Praeton smirked, thinking upon the journey of the last few months. "What is this? Is the Kingdom sending more men to reinforce my garrisons in Hillsbrad? Are you Stromgardian troops? You certainly don't look it, and your accent is too southern to be one of those mountainous warriors"
"No sire!" the sergeant remarked excitedly "We depart the Kingdom on our own will, to fight in the north! To regain Lordaeron in the name of King Terenas and make it a golden place again! We are the Scarlet Crusade. Our order was founded by none other than the Ashbringer himself, and we now join in with our brothers from across the lands"
"…Crusade?" Anduin remarked, oblivious. "Very well, carry on"
The man saluted, and rejoined his men. Anduin looked to the painfully blue skies. Indeed, in the hearts of men and all creatures, there still lies the burning desire to correct the wrongs of the world and make it a place of beauty and peace once more. With that, Anduin took his steps into the central plaza, beneath the statues of the great heroes of the Alliance.
Bonus Profile: The War of the Ruins; It's Causes and Effects
As of July, 618, the War of the Ruins came to an end. The six month effort was lead by Alaric Faltron'Quel, first and last Elven Grand Marshal. The kingdoms of men raised nearly one hundred thousand men for the offensive efforts into Lordaeron, with several thousand more elves and dwarves included in the campaign. Under Alaric Faltron'Quel, the forces of the Alliance were reformed into 'Army Corps', as such a large force would require a different type of management than the smaller and more mobile armies of the Second War. In the end, the campaign had covered over a thousand leagues of ground, stretching from the capital of Stromgarde, Strom, through Tarren Mill, Silverpine Forest, the Tirisfal Glades, the Capitol of Lordearon, the Plaguelands, Quel'thalas, and the long march across the frozen plains of Northrend.
When the army set out, it marshaled nearly ninety thousand soldiers, knights, wizards, priests, and more for the offensive course. By the end however, just over thirty thousand remained in the force. This was due to desertions (a very small faction), wounded (36,389), and dead or missing (23,611). The forces that managed to escape from Northrend were met up with the remnants of Anduin Praeton's army, which had successfully held off the Night elf charge for hours before pulling back.
The two forces marched to safer territory in southern Lordaeron, where they took up garrison duties on far flung outposts. The city of Dalaran had been permanently retaken, and was no longer a battlefield. The remaining wizards of the Kirin Tor took up residence in the ruined and dangerous city, and began to rebuild. Alterac was cleared of the Scourge, but a sinister organization known as the Syndicate soon came to power and held sway over the remnant populace in the south. In Alterac Valley, a major stronghold of orcish power was discovered soon after, and Anduin Praeton ordered several divisions of soldiers to combat the Frostwolf Clan. The conflict continues to this day.
The Scourge, severly weakened in continental Lordaeron, withdrew many of its forces from Silverpine Forest and the Tirisfal Glades, retreathing into the Plaguelands, where a certain Litch began to take form once again, his phylacteries not completely destroyed, making his residence in the dread citadel of Naxxramas. To this day, they have gathered the strength only once to attack south, of which was only a small foray into the Kingdoms of Khaz Modan, Stormwind, and into the city of Orgrimmar.
In Kalimdor, the embarresed Warchief quickly rebuilt the lost infrastructure in Orgrimmar and sent out envoys to the Alliance seeking true, lasting peace, which had been broken now twice. Theramore fared the same. Confused and bewildered by a force of seeming Alliance soldiers attacking their city, the people became wary of any ship crossing the ocean, and greatly increased their naval power.
Barak Demonlasher and his Night elven forces went their own way after the battle on Northrend, and returned to their home to rebuild and rest. It was not long before an Alliance messenger ship came to their docks upon Darkshore asking for a more solid league with them.
Alaric'Quel's presence held the Blood Elves to the Alliance but a little longer, and upon his disappearance the Blood Elves retreated into their sanctuary of Quel'thalas, which had been retaken in the war, blaming the humans, whom had been abusive and discriminative to them in the past, for the loss of the war and their leader. Recent reports have indicated that the Blood Elves have opened relations with the Horde, a strange and complete turnabout from their ideals and views only a few years earlier. Nothing much is known about this situation.
In the end, the War of the Ruins has set pivotal points in Azeroth's history, bringing the world closer together, and halting the Scourge's seemingly invincible advance. Upon the hellish world of Outland, Alaric'Quel searches for the truth that Prince Kael'thas promised his people shortly before he abandoned them. What he finds astounds and horrifies him. Disgusted with what Kael'thas has become, he flees Kael'thas's base in the Tempest keep to find several familiar faces which had long thought been dead in the Expedition into Draenor, quite alive and fighting for survival upon the surface of this alien world.
In this time, the power of the individual is greatly increased, and forays into the world of Azeroth are made by adventurers, who discover ancient plots, unbelievable lore, and venture into the unknown, ever wary of the Scourge and Burning Legion, both of which have become a secondary threat in due to both Wars of recent years.
(Well guys, I had intended to write this Epilogue a loooong time ago, but I never really did get around to it. Sadly, this adventure is at its end, and I'll miss it. Thank you so much for all your reviews, especially those of my good friend High Elven Swordsman. The reviews have always really helped and made me feel more motivated to continue the story, and even enticed me to finally finish this epilogue! Words cannot thank ye for the words of input, except that I'll hope to see you again in the future! I do plan on continuing the story of Alaric'Quel sometime in the future, though not just yet. I'll let his adventures hang in the air for a little while, while I write my chronicle of the Third War (which will include some cameos!), and several other stories. Bienvenido S. Canonizado, your life story has inspired me as well, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your review and support.
Well guys, that's it for War of the Ruins, over a year in the making. I'll see you all soon though! Make sure to keep up with my work, and I'll check out yours too! Good luck, have fun, and make me proud!)