Aaaaand the champions are here! Who would you place your bets on?
Anduin
Despite the snowfall overnight, the first day of the Tournament dawned bright and clear. Anduin had awoken several hours earlier, unable to sleep, but with the opening ceremony fast approaching, he had finally left the warmth of his quarters in search of his father and Auriana. He had found his bed surprisingly comfortable, despite the fact that he was sleeping in a tent at the roof of the world, but he had been far too anxious and excited about the Tournament to properly rest.
Varian had initially refused to allow Anduin to attend the event, citing concerns over his safety. They had argued the matter back and forth for quite some time, until Anduin had pointed out that being left behind would indicate to the Horde that Varian did not trust them to maintain the peace during the Tournament. Which, while probably at least partially true, was not the kind of message that the Alliance should be sending at such a tenuous time. Anduin was not especially interested in the fighting, but he was very invested in seeing the Alliance and the Horde take their first tentative steps towards peace, and he had been overjoyed when Varian finally relented.
He had arrived at the Tournament the previous afternoon, along with his father and the rest of the retinue from Stormwind, and had immediately set about exploring the grounds - or at the very least, he had explored them as well as he was able with half a dozen guards on his tail. He had been far too young - and his father far too paranoid - to have attended the first Argent Tournament, and he was eager to discover such a new and different part of the world. Unfortunately, night came quickly in Northrend, and he had only had the chance to survey part of the sprawling Alliance camp before darkness fell.
The grounds looked even more impressive now in the daylight, but once again Anduin was forced to put his curiosity aside in favour more practical. He cut a path directly to the large blue tent that dominated the centre of the Alliance camp, pausing onto to nod a greeting to the four royal guardsmen standing watch outside. They were unarmed, of course, as per Tournament rules, but he had no doubt that they were more than capable of doing damage with their fists were they so provoked.
They were not here to defend against him, however, which was why Anduin was quite surprised when he was stopped from entering the tent by a gentle hand upon his chest. He turned to face the soldier responsible, immediately recognising her as Auriana's personal bodyguard, and raised an eyebrow. As the crown prince, he was quite unused to being barred entry to just about anywhere, and he wasn't sure why he had been stopped.
"Ridley?"
"Ahem," she coughed, giving him a small, awkward smile. "You may wish to… announce yourself, Your Highness."
"What?" he said, thoroughly baffled. "I won't wake them, if that's your concern. It's nearly ten in the morning, they never sleep that late."
"I know. Just… trust me on this one?" Ridley entreated, her slightly strained expression suggesting that she knew something that Anduin did not.
He glanced briefly at the other guards, who were all either studiously staring at their feet, or at the fluttering golden pennants overhead, and he frowned.
"Alright…" he said slowly, then called more loudly, "Uh… Father? Auri? Hello?"
Anduin heard a few quiet scuffling noises, and a second later Auriana slipped outside, the fresh snow crunching beneath her booted feet. She looked slightly flushed and out of breath, as if she had just run several miles, though she was at least dressed for the occasion in a well-cut woollen dress of midnight blue. As Anduin looked closer, however, he realised her hair was rather messy at the back, and her dress haphazardly laced in such a way that suggested she had only just thrown it on.
Most unusual.
"Anduin. Good morning!" she said, quickly brushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.
"I came to escort you to the the opening ceremony," he said, thoroughly nonplussed. "Is Father up?"
"Awake, yes; dressed, no," she confirmed, glancing back over her shoulder into the darkness of the tent. "But the opening ceremony isn't for another hour or so, isn't it?"
"It starts in twenty minutes, actually. I was starting to wonder where you were."
Auriana's eyes widened in mild alarm, and her gaze flicked upwards to note the position of the sun overhead.
"Twenty minutes?" she repeated. "Ah… excuse me."
She ducked back inside the tent, leaving Anduin standing awkwardly outside in the snow with Ridley and the other guards. None of them would look him in the eye, and Anduin decided that there was little point in engaging them in small talk. Fortunately, Auriana was gone for only a few more minutes before she reemerged, this time with her skirts far neater and her hair no longer in quite such a state of disarray.
"Varian suggested we go on and find our seats - he'll be part of the ceremonies with the other leaders, so he won't be joining us right away," she explained, throwing a warm cloak about her shoulders as she spoke.
"In that case, I would be pleased to be your escort," Anduin said grandly, offering his arm with what he hoped was a dashing flourish.
The walk to the main arena was not overlong, though the milling crowd made it slow going, and they had to take care not to lose Ridley and the other guard who had followed them from the royal tent. There were people absolutely everywhere, dressed in bright colours and waving coloured pennants high in the air. The crowd was also much larger than Anduin had expected, and he realised he may have underestimated just how popular arena matches were amongst the citizenry of both the Alliance and the Horde. The other option was that people were more invested in the prospect of peace than he had hoped, though this seemed unlikely. Certainly, the group of orcs carrying a sign that read 'Holler If You're Hordey' were only here for one reason.
"You look well," he remarked, watching Auriana closely as they made their way out of the Alliance camp and down the promenade toward the arena entrance.
Anduin was not unaware of the strain that she and his father had been under of late, nor the tension it had cause in their household. He had not interfered, assuming that neither of them would appreciate being 'coddled', but he was quietly relieved to see a healthy colour once again warming her cheeks, and a slight spring in her step as she walked at his side.
"It's amazing what a good night's sleep will do."
Her pretty flush darkened as she spoke, and between the look on her face and the strange behaviour of the guards, Anduin began to strongly suspect that she hadn't actually slept very much at all.
Oh.
He looked away, ostensibly under the guise of admiring a lurid pink banner that read 'Go Gnome or Go Home!', but in truth he was trying to hide the heat rapidly spreading across his ears and neck.
Time for a change of topic, he thought.
"Ah… tell me all about arena fighting," he said aloud, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the exuberant throng. "How does this all work?"
Auriana paused to allow a group of loud, rambunctious dwarves to pass, and looked across at him with a dubious tilt of her head.
"Your father never dragged you along to a match? I find that hard to believe, given that Varian is… well, Varian..." she snorted.
"He might have when I was younger, I think, but I don't remember much."
Anduin grinned.
"It's not exactly my thing."
"I suppose I can't argue with that," Auriana admitted, her nose crinkling as she laughed. "Well, this kind of arena fighting is very different to the fighting your father would have done in the Crimson Ring. As I've mentioned before, that was an underground slave tournament, where it was perfectly acceptable to obtain victory by grievous injury - or death."
She fell silent as they resumed moving through the crowd, following the directions of the Argent Crusade guards to enter the main arena. As the Queen and Prince of Stormwind, they were afforded some of the best seats in the house, but actually getting to those seats proved to be somewhat difficult. The arena was packed to capacity, and even with the assistance of the guards it was some time before they managed to take their place in the front and centre of the Alliance spectators.
"Fighting to the death is not what we're doing here, though… right?" Anduin asked, once they had both settled into place.
He had taken part in some of the preparations for the event, but Auriana and his father had done the bulk of the work on the Alliance side, and he did not know exactly how the Tournament fighting was supposed to work.
"No, of course not," Auriana continued, shifting her weight as she adjusted her skirts around her legs and removed her cloak. "This is a sanctioned arena match; there are rules, referees, and protections in place to avoid serious injury."
She pointed to several weapons racks that lined the outside of the arena floor.
"See the racks down there? Whether your weapon of choice is an axe or a sword or even a hunter's quarrel, they all have blunted edges and reduced weight. You'll still get a nasty bruise if someone hits you, but they won't draw blood or sever limbs," she explained. "For casters like me, there are certain spells that are forbidden, and the use of which will result in immediate disqualification. Participants must also declare which school of spellcasting and weapons they're using before each bout - however, once a weapon is in the arena, it's fair game."
"So if your opponent dropped a weapon, you could pick it up?" Anduin wondered.
"Absolutely," Auriana confirmed.
She was sitting forward on the very edge of her seat, and while Anduin did not have any particular interest in arena fighting himself, he could not help but to find her enthusiasm contagious. It was rare to see her so openly excited about something, and he very much hoped that she would remain in such high spirits as the Tournament progressed.
"Alright, so how do you win?" he asked.
"Well, there are a few different ways. The first is by traditional knockout. While those weapons are blunted, they're still enough to knock someone out. There's also nothing stopping you from just… punching your opponent in the face," she said.
Auriana aimed a gentle punch at the muscle of his shoulder to illustrate her point, and Anduin made a great show of recoiling as if it had really hurt.
"Ouch!" he protested, letting out a gasp of mock horror. "What kind of monster beats up on an innocent young prince?"
"Anduin, you'd have to have at least seventy or eighty pounds on me," she snorted. "I'm sure you could manage."
"I don't know, you look like you'd fight dirty…" he teased, eyeing her up and down.
"I am known to be a biter."
She laughed and shook her head, and for a moment she looked far away, as if she were actually picturing herself biting him in the heat of battle.
"Anyway… the second way to eliminate an opponent is by landing a strike on a critical area of the body - on, say, the neck, or the chest," she continued, still grinning. "The blades are enchanted to show marks where they make contact with the body, so there's no cheating."
"What if someone hit you in the leg?"
"It's considered a non-critical strike. In a real battle, you're more likely to be able to fight with a leg injury than with your throat slit open, so in the arena, it's not considered sufficient enough to secure a victory," she clarified.
"Makes sense, I suppose, in a morbid sort of way," Anduin nodded.
As they spoke, the arena continued to fill, until every inch of available space was filling with excited spectators. There was a distinct atmosphere of carnival in the air, though Anduin did not miss the Argent Crusade and Shado-Pan guards patrolling the perimeter with wary eyes, looking to intervene at the first sign of trouble.
"The third way to win is by a spell knockout," Auriana added. "You see the mages down there, on the lowest ring of the stands?"
Anduin leaned forward in his seat so he might get a better look, and was surprised to see a number of Kirin Tor mages gathered in a small circle. He had seen a few of them walking around outside the day before, in their distinctive pink and violet robes, but he had assumed that they were there as guards, rather than to facilitate the fighting.
"When a match starts, they will be responsible for providing each fighter with a shield that repels magic. It won't deter physical attacks, but it will resist a certain number of magical attacks before being depleted."
"How strong is the shield? As in, how quickly could you get through it?" Anduin asked.
"Me, or an average mage?" Auriana said slyly, cocking her left eyebrow and giving him a rakish grin. "For someone like me… if I were facing an opponent standing still, maybe three or four hits. An average mage, maybe twice that. However… in the ring, an opponent isn't going to be standing still. They can physically dodge, as well as mitigate spell casts with their own magical abilities."
"I see…"
The Kirin Tor mages disappeared from Anduin's view as he settled back in his seat, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he considered the new information.
"Uh… Auri? Can I ask a dumb question?"
"Sure," she said, smiling.
"Those mage shields sound very impressive. They seem like they'd be invaluable on a battlefield. So…"
"So why don't we shield our troops like that in real combat?" Auriana nodded, quickly catching on.
"Exactly."
"Not a dumb question at all," she assured him. "Count them."
"The mages? Um…"
She pointed down below a second time, and waited patiently as Anduin made a quick tally.
"Twenty-four."
"Correct. Six per fighter," she concurred, looking at him expectantly as if the mathematics explained everything.
For a brief moment, Anduin was lost, when the solution came to him in a sudden burst of inspiration.
"Oh! It takes six mages to maintain each shield. That's far too many to be practical, right?"
"Precisely," Auriana said, nodding her approval. "Fully trained mages are something of a rarity, and battle mages even more so. Certainly when compared to infantrymen. It would be an inefficient use of resources to try to shield each soldier individually."
"A shame we can't. That kind of thing could save lives," Anduin mused, his healer's mind instantly turning to the possibilities.
"We do what we can elsewhere," Auriana murmured. "It's not perfect, by any means, but you have to work with what you have."
Her tone was light, though a brief shadow flickered across her features as she spoke.
She looked faintly saddened and distant, and Anduin's stomach twisted as he realised he may have inadvertently brought up some painful memories.
"Ah... so we've got knockout, magical knockout, and a 'killing' blow," he prompted quickly, trying to steer the conversation back to a happier topic. "Any other way to win?"
"One can surrender. It's considered sportsmanlike to yield if forced into a position where you would not be able to conceivably escape were this a 'real' battle," Auriana said, after a brief pause.
She sat back slightly in her seat, and rested a small, booted foot up against the lower edge of the guard rail. Her expression grew more serious, and when she continued, her voice was much quieter.
"Though I doubt you'll see much of that in the Tournament here."
"Why not?"
Auriana gestured not to the arena floor, but this time up into the stands above. The arena was almost at capacity now, and Anduin's eyes practically hurt from the sheer abundance of colour and movement crammed into a relatively small space. There were banners and signs galore, just as there had been outside, and even a what appeared to be a giant, paper-crafted lion's head. Quite a few of the Alliance spectators cheered and waved when he turned around, and Anduin couldn't help but to smile in return.
"Look around you," she murmured. "Everyone is here to show off, or to prove something. You'll see it in the champion choices, too - it isn't just about who is the best fighter. You'll see all sorts of political and cultural biases come into play."
Anduin twisted back around to face her, watching her expression closely as she in turn studied the crowd. He had assumed each participating faction would simply pick their best warriors and have done with it, but it seemed that there was much more going on here than met the eye.
"Such as?" he asked, wondering exactly what kind of biases might come into play.
"Well… you probably won't see any death knights or warlocks in the ring," Auriana explained, after a brief pause. "As much as we all look the other way when fighting with them in war, they're still regarded with suspicion by most of the general populace. You probably won't see any politically divisive or controversial figures representing their factions, either."
"And culturally?"
"The night elves most likely won't nominate a mage champion, for example - too much baggage from the highborne," she said, glancing across at a nearby group of the same. "I would be surprised if the draenei didn't have at least one Light user on their team. That sort of thing."
Anduin nodded. What she was saying made sense, and he was somewhat surprised that he hadn't thought of it himself. Admittedly, he had been so focused on helping to make the Tournament a reality that he hadn't really considered what might happen now that they were actually all here. The political games, it seemed, might prove to be as interesting as the physical contest.
"How do people choose champions, then?" he wondered.
"It varies. I know the gnomes held an internal competition to choose, for example. Otherwise, they might convene a council of sorts to vote on the issue, or a faction leader might have final veto. Traditionally, a champion could refuse the nomination, though again, I doubt you'll see that today."
"Do you know who Father has chosen to represent Stormwind?"
Anduin had been trying to pry the information out of Varian for weeks, but no matter how much he had wheedled and cajoled, his father had remained tight-lipped.
"Not a clue," Auriana said lightly. "He wanted to keep it a surprise."
Anduin narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but her expression gave nothing away. He was skeptical of her claim that she didn't know, given that she was probably the only person on Azeroth with whom Varian was truly open, but perhaps in this case he had decided to keep a secret even from her.
"He'd have to choose himself, right?" he speculated. "I mean… it's an arena tournament."
"Not necessarily, but… I think it's a safe bet that he will. He hides it well, but I know he's been practically quivering with excitement at the thought of getting to fight in the arena again," Auriana admitted.
"My father doesn't really seem like the type to… quiver," Anduin said, snorting.
"Not that you've seen, maybe."
Auriana abruptly clapped a hand over her mouth, and Anduin realised that she had not at all intended to speak out loud. Her cheeks immediately flooded crimson, though she was spared from having to try to explain herself by the sudden, triumphant blare of a herald's horn. An eager hush fell over the crowd, and a second later Anduin heard the sound of wood scraping on stone as the great gate at the back of the arena opened, and each of the respective faction leaders of the Alliance and the Horde began to file into the arena in two straight lines.
While Anduin was not especially inclined to find arena itself exciting, he nevertheless felt his heart beat faster as the crowd broke out into thunderous cheering and applause. Like Auriana, their enthusiasm for the event was catching, and he added his own voice to the mix as Varian and Vol'jin stepped onto the arena floor. They walked at the head of the procession, carefully keeping apace of one another so that neither the Alliance nor the Horde were given prominence over the other. Vol'jin was the taller of the two, of course, but Varian was by no means dwarfed, and with each in their best armour, they made for quite the imposing pair.
The small group of leaders fanned out around the arena in a loose half circle, alternating between Alliance and Horde. Intermingling the leaders was intended to convey a sense of unity and to visually break the divide between the factions, though each position in the circle had still been carefully calculated and planned well in advance. It had been agreed, for example, that it was in everyone's best interests to keep Genn and Sylvanas Windrunner as far away from one another as possible. Both sides seemed to be willing to play nice, however, at least for the moment, and Anduin let out a small sigh of relief as the Tournament's official announcers took their place in the centre of the arena.
Anduin wasn't familiar with the announcers himself, but he had been informed that they were quite popular on the arena circuit. The taller of the pair was a tuxedo-clad male goblin with a confident swagger and enormous bat-wing ears that he had somehow managed to cram beneath a jaunty top hat. In contrast, His companion was a bubbly, bright-eyed female gnome with gleaming platinum hair and a most fashionable silkweave dress. Both wore wide, beaming smiles, and they waved happily up at the stands as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.
"Ladies and gentlemen, gnomes and tauren, boys and girls and children of all ages: welcome one and all to the first annual - well, assuming we don't all kill each other, anyway, ha! - Alliance-Horde Grand Tournament!" the goblin boomed, tipping his top hat with a roguish swagger. "My name is Jax Boomsprocket, and this is my lovely co-host, Tink Togglefuse. Tink, are you excited?"
"I sure am, Jax!" the gnome squeaked. "We've been from one side of Azeroth to another on the arena circuit, but this one takes the proverbial cake. We have the best fighters from the Alliance and the Horde; kings, champions, war heroes - you name it, we've got it, and we're going to throw them all into an arena together until one team stands victorious!"
Their voices had both been magically enhanced, and Anduin could hear them as clearly as if they were standing right next to him.
"So, Tink, tell me - what can this fantastic crowd look forward to over the coming weeks?"
"Well, Jax, we have fourteen teams - seven Alliance and seven Horde - competing in a double round robin format," Tink explained, giving her co-host a beaming smile. "At the end of the round robin stage, the eight teams with the most wins will progress to fight in the quarter-finals. In the case of a tie in the qualifying rounds, the team with the best head to head record will progress. From there, it's sudden death until we have our winner!"
"I can't wait!" Jax enthused. "Which is why it is my genuine honour to introduce your Master of Ceremonies, Highlord Tirion Fordring!"
He gestured dramatically to the arena gates, and a moment later a tall, stately paladin emerged and made his way to the centre of the arena floor. The Highlord was an impressive man, and his stature even more imposing when compared to the relative size of the goblin and gnome announcers. His armour had been polished to a high sheen, and while he carried no weapon in respect of the Tournament rules, his every movement conveyed power and authority.
"Thank you," Fordring said gravely, his serious manner a stark contrast to the lively showmanship of the announcers. "It is my sincere honour to welcome you all to Northrend, and to host this Tournament on behalf of the leadership of the Alliance and the Horde. The last time we came together in this place, we stood in terrible shadow terrible foe - but today, we stand only in the spirit of unity and cooperation, in the hopes of a brighter future for all of Azeroth."
His voice was deep and stirring, and Anduin could have sworn that he saw an aura of the Light shimmering about the Highlord's shoulders. He felt instantly heartened, though the reactions from the faction leaders appeared to be rather mixed. Several were smiling, including Prophet Velen and Gelbin Mekkatorque, while others, such as Sylvanas, looked as if they would have rather been anywhere else. Varian's expression was stoic and inscrutable, as it tended to be at these kind of formal public events; though when it came to his father Anduin privately considered anything better than visible displeasure to be a win.
"I will not leave you all in suspense while I make an overlong speech, however," Fordring added, his lips curling in a wry smile. "I am sure you are all eager to meet your champions, so without any further adieu, let us commence the nominations! Trade Prince Gallywix?"
He gestured towards a squat, sallow-skinned goblin in a gaudy hat who stood at the end of the line, and beckoned him forward. The goblin leaned heavily on his jewel-encrusted cane as he accepted Fordring's invitation and moved to the centre of the arena, though there was a certain swagger to the way he moved, and a distinct note of arrogance in his harsh voice as he spoke.
"The Bilgewater Cartel calls on Gazz Farshot and Livvy Boltstorm," he drawled.
A huge cheer went up from the crowd at his words, though once again Anduin himself had no idea who either goblin was meant to be.
"Oh, good choice," Auriana murmured, leaning forward as a slender female goblin rose to her feet and was summarily teleported down to the arena floor by the Kirin Tor mages.
The goblin champion was dressed in flamboyant robes of bright purple, and her hair had been styled so elaborately that Anduin wasn't entirely sure how it managed to defy gravity. Outrageous gems glittered at her throat and upon each of her short fingers, reflecting the light in such a way that made her look like a walking Winter Veil tree, and even from this distance he could see that her nails were painted vivid pink.
"You know her?"
"Not personally, but she has quite the reputation on the arena circuit," Auriana said eagerly. "They call her the 'Kindler of Kezan'. Fire mage, very talented. Obscenely wealthy, too."
"Do you know the other one, too?" Anduin asked, watching as the goblin mage was joined by her teammate; a sharp-eyed male goblin with a beaky nose.
The goblin Farshot winked roguishly as he sidled up to his new partner, though she ignored him with an expression of utmost disdain. Evidently, she was not impressed by Gallywix's other choice.
Interesting, Anduin thought.
"I don't know him, no, though I'm guessing from the crowd's reaction that he's well known in arena circles, too," Auriana observed.
She applauded politely as the two goblins each formally accepted their nominations and waved to the crowd, before they moved off to one side to await the announcement of their opposition. The Tournament had been structured so that teams were fighting for their kingdoms or nation states - or in this case, their Cartel - rather than the Alliance or the Horde as a whole.
"How did Tirion decide who to nominated first?" Anduin wondered. "I would assume there are some people out there who would care very much about the order of the draw."
"You assume correctly, which is why we drew lots. The orcs are next, look."
True to Auriana's word, Fordring next summoned Thrall to speak on behalf of the orcs. The crowd was certainly excited to see the legendary former Warchief up close, though Thrall himself looked undeniably tired, and his presence was somehow diminished. He was still a striking figure, with his broad shoulders and noble bearing, but it seemed to Anduin, at least, that there was a subtle spark missing from his eyes.
"Orgrimmar nominates Varok Saurfang, and Aggralan, daughter of Ryal," Thrall said quietly.
He spoke without fanfare, though the crowd more than made up for his solemnity with a veritable storm of cheers and claps. There were a large number of orcs scattered throughout the stands, and even the non-orcish spectators seemed thrilled at the prospect of seeing one of the Horde's greatest heroes in action.
"Thrall's wife? And Saurfang?" Anduin exclaimed, almost shouting in an effort to make himself heard.
"That'll be a tough team to beat. I've never seen Saurfang duel, but his battlefield reputation is formidable," Auriana noted, her eyes narrowing shrewdly as the orcs took their place in arena. "And Aggra… well, she taught Thrall."
"Is dueling all that different from fighting in a battle?" Anduin asked, his voice softening as the crowd quietened in anticipation of the next announcement.
"Very much so," Auriana confirmed, nodding. "A battle is inherently more chaotic than a duel, and your success or failure often depends on factors outside your control."
"For example?"
"For example…" she mused, drumming her fingers on the guardrail before them as she thought, "Ah! I was once fighting one of Garrosh Hellscream's dark shaman during the Siege of Orgrimmar, when he was wiped out by one of his own artillery blasts. I didn't win because of my skill, I won because I was lucky, and he wasn't. Things like that happen all the time in a battle, but less so in a duel - especially one in a controlled environment like the arena here."
"I see," Anduin said, her answer only serving to confirm his suspicion that he had no desire to ever find himself in the middle of a battlefield.
"A battle is fast, and hectic, and there's no time to wait for the 'perfect' opportunity to strike," Auriana added. "You take what openings you can get. You kill, and you move on. A duel is slower, more strategic. In this particular context, you'll also see people trying to show off; doing all sorts of spectacular things that you'd never see them attempt were this an actual matter of life and death."
In the time she had been speaking, two more leaders had made their nominations. For Gilneas, Genn had called upon a hunter, Barrett Arnes, and a rogue, Lillian Fletcher. Anduin didn't know the hunter, but he knew Lillian from her time in service to Genn as one of his most trusted guards. She had been friendly and affable every time they had met, especially for a worgen, though Anduin also knew from experience that she was a dextrous hand with a blade when she had to be.
Baine Bloodhoof had also nominated himself on behalf of the tauren of Thunder Bluff, as well as an enormous druid named Anak Skyshaker, who was somehow so large that he made Baine himself look small. Anduin was pleased to see that his long-time friend looked bright and eager, and he happily added a few encouraging whoops of his own to the din as Baine and his druid took their place amongst the other champions.
Nominations proceeded swiftly from that point onwards, and Anduin and Auriana sat in companionable silence as they watched the show. Prophet Velen nominated two Light wielders, as Auriana had predicted, in the form of the paladin Vindicator Boros, and a priestess, Anchorite Inaara. The gnomes also nominated a priestess, a stern-faced elder named Siffi Brightspark, as well as a spunky little mage named Moxie Arcshine, who looked as if she couldn't have been all that much older than Anduin himself. Having been around healers for most of his education, Anduin was keen to see some battle priests in action, and he cheered on the priests louder than he had almost anyone else.
The Pandaren nominated monks on both sides, with Aysa Cloudsinger standing for the Alliance Pandaren alongside a genial, barrel-chested male called Polo Swiftpaw. Her opposite amongst the Huojin, Ji Firepaw, had also nominated himself - as well as a stunningly beautiful young female monk named Suchi Whiteblossom. With flowers in her hair and her fur brushed to an immaculate shine, she looked rather out of placed compared to her grizzled or armour-clad competitors, but there was no doubt in Anduin's mind that Ji had chosen her for a reason. There was also no doubt that Aysa was displeased by Suchi's nomination, judging from the sour expression that crossed her face as the pretty young monk took her place at Ji's side, but the nominations moved on before Anduin could ask Auriana her opinion on the matter.
For the dwarves, Moira Thaurissan nominated a pair of twin sisters, Ingra and Britta Stonegrip, who both looked as if they could crush Anduin to death with their bare hands - or just about any other body part they chose. For the night elves, Tyrande called upon her adopted protégé, Shandris Feathermoon, along with none other than Broll Bearmantle. He was a logical choice, of course, given his extensive experience fighting in the Crimson Ring at Varian's side, and Anduin could have sworn he saw a smirk of genuine amusement flash across his father's face as Broll made his way past.
By far the most controversial nomination, however, was Lor'themar Theron's choice of Aethas Sunreaver, a former member of the Council of Six who had been expelled from Dalaran alongside his Sunreavers after the incident with the Divine Bell. A hushed muttering broke out through the crowd as the strikingly handsome elf entered the arena, and people were so fixated on his presence that there was almost no acknowledgement of his teammate, a haughty young Blood Knight paladin named Penthas Sunbinder. Even Auriana let out a soft harrumph of surprise when Aethas' name was announced, though whether she was upset or merely thoughtful, Anduin couldn't quite tell.
Despite the crowd's interest in Aethas Sunreaver, any further discussion from the crowd was quickly stifled when Fordring at last called upin Vol'jin to speak on behalf of the trolls. Like Baine and Ji Firepaw before him, he also made a self-nomination - though as Warchief of the Horde, Anduin understood he probably had little choice but to fight. He could see that what Auriana had said was true - even something as simple as selection of champions was rife with politics, and it played out in every movement and glance and word.
Vol'jin did not seem to mind fighting for his people, at least - though his enthusiasm was nothing compared to that of his arena partner. Anduin had never met Auriana's troll friend Zala'din, though he had heard much about their adventures in Draenor. He had a good sense of Zala'din's personality from Auriana's stories, but even then had not expected the sheer amount of energy and charisma the troll possessed. He strode into the arena like he had already won the Tournament, flexing his muscles and winking at a group of giggling female trolls in the third row. Auriana rolled her eyes at that, though she could barely contain her smile as she watched her friend happily lap up the crowd's attention.
Unfortunately, her amusement was short-lived, as Fordring called upon the second-to-last faction leader, Sylvanas Windrunner. She stood at the very end of the line, slightly apart from the rest of the group, but even if she had been front and centre, there was something in the way she carried herself that was distinctly separate. A cold intelligence glittered in her blood red eyes, and she stared up at the assembled crowd as if she could see into each and every one of their souls.
"Lady Sylvanas, are you ready to make your nomination?" Fordring asked, seemingly unperturbed by her disquieting appearance.
"I am."
Sylvanas may have only said two words, but the soft rasp of her voice made the hairs on the back of Anduin's neck stand up, and from the looks of it, he wasn't the only who felt uncomfortable. Auriana's bright smile had faded into a thoughtful frown, and the once-eager crowd fell into a tense silence. There were a fair number of Forsaken scattered throughout the stands, but even they fell quiet beneath the imperious gaze of the Banshee Queen.
"Undercity nominates Harlan Gallows and Valerie Heartsbane," she declared.
Two rogues rose in the farthest corner of the stands at her request, and were quickly teleported down to the arena. Both accepted their nominations in silence, with little more than curt nods in Fordring's direction, and while the crowd still applauded their acceptance, they were noticeably more subdued than they had been for any of the other competitors.
"I thought they were a myth…" Auriana whispered, seemingly speaking more to herself than to Anduin.
She leaned forward in her seat, and the frown lines at the corners of her eyes deepened.
"A myth?"
"One of those campfire stories soldiers tell to scare each other. Rumour has it that Sylvanas has a pair of assassins that are loyal to her and her alone," she explained, watching the two rogues like a hawk. "According to the stories, she's ordered a number of hits on people who… inconvenience her. They've killed Alliance, Horde, even some of her own Forsaken. They come like shadows in the night, and leave no trace."
Auriana let out a slow breath, and bit her lip.
"I once met a dwarf in the Twilight Highlands who claimed to have seen them - a man and a woman, tall and skinny and silent as the grave. If that really is them, and it's not just a campfire tale, it's an interesting choice."
"Maybe they're just her best fighters," Anduin suggested, but Auriana shook her head.
"It's never that simple when it comes to Sylvanas. She always has a plan, even if it's not immediately obvious. If she's taking a risk like exposing the identities of her personal assassins, you can be damn sure she's doing it for a reason," she said flatly.
She wrinkled her nose in consternation, but before she could speculate further, Varian was summoned forth as the last leader to name his champions. The King of Stormwind was welcomed far more warmly than Sylvanas and her rogues, and some of the tension in the crowd lessened as they awaited the final announcement.
"And last, but certainly not least," Fordring intoned, "King Varian - who do you nominate to stand for the city of Stormwind?"
"I nominate myself - and I accept, obviously," Varian answered drily, sending a wave of much-needed laughter rippling across the crowd. "As for my second…"
He paused, and his scarred gaze found Anduin and Auriana in the stands.
"... I nominate Auriana Wrynn."
Anduin felt as if he had been hit by a wave of sound as the stands behind him simply erupted, and Auriana turned to face him with a sly, knowing smile. Her reputation was formidable - as was Varian's - and there were clearly a lot of people who looked forward to seeing them in action together.
"You knew!" Anduin exclaimed, bumping her shoulder playfully with his own. "You knew he was going to choose you; why did you lie?"
"I didn't lie, I was… building the suspense."
Auriana winked at him as she rose to her feet, and a second later she was teleported down to the heart of the arena with the other contestants.
"I accept the nomination," she called, the moment she had rematerialised. "I will stand as Stormwind's champion."
She then walked over to stand by Varian's side, straight backed and proud, and together they took their place in the now-completed line-up of champions. In sum, they made for a rather intimidating group of people, and certainly not a group Anduin would relish facing in a fight. He did not know enough about duelling or arena matches to know who might stand the best chance of winning the Tournament, but in that moment he realised he was actually rather keen to find out.
Tirion Fordring, too, seemed very impressed by the calibre of the contenders arrayed before him. He studied them all with a critical eye as he paced along the line, almost as if he were inspecting troop of his own Argent Crusaders, but there was distinct sense of satisfaction in his posture and fervour in his voice as he offered them a few last words of encouragement.
"Champions!" he cried. "Together, you represent some of the finest and noblest warriors that Azeroth has to offer. Fight with courage, and with honour, and above all, remember that while we have come together in the spirit of honest competition, what matters most are the bonds of friendship and unity that this Tournament will forge."
He paused, and his discerning gaze flicked briefly up towards the stands.
"And to those of you watching I will say only this - enjoy the show. Let the Grand Tournament begin!"
Fordring finished his speech by inclining his head towards the competitors in a gesture of sincere respect, before ceding the floor back to the two announcers so that they might conclude the ceremony.
"Well, there you have it, folks! Your Tournament champions!" Jax Boomsprocket shouted, waving a hand towards the line of contenders and prompting another round of warm applause from the crowd.
"What a lineup, Jax!" Tink agreed, her white-blonde head bobbing up and down with great enthusiasm. "I know you love a little wager - where would you place your money?"
"Well, we have a lot of fine teams out here today, Tink, but my money's on the orcs. If I know anything about arena, that's the team to watch," Jax raved, slapping his thigh with a broad palm.
"Bold of you to assume you know anything about arena," Tink said primly, to a round of raucous laughter from the crowd.
"Oh yeah?" Jax snorted, shooting his co-host a good-natured grin. "Who's your pick, then?"
"The team from Stormwind," Tink replied, without hesitation. "King Wrynn's arena record speaks for itself, and rumour has it his wife is some kind of unkillable berserker demon."
Down in the arena, Varian and Auriana exchanged a pointed look, and Anduin could have sworn that his father was trying not to laugh. He would not do so in public, of course, not when they were both on full display before the Alliance and the Horde, but he had no doubt that they would discuss her dubious new epithet in private later on.
"You make a good point, Tink," Jax said sagely, "Though as we all know, anything can happen in the arena! The moment our fighters hit that floor, all bets are off - which is why it's all so damn exciting!"
The goblin licked his lips, and even at this distance, Anduin could practically feel him humming in anticipation of the matches to come.
"We kick off the fighting with Team Huojin versus Team Undermine this afternoon at two o'clock sharp!" he added, his hawkish eyes gleaming. "Be there, or be sorely disappointed for the rest of your life… cause this one is gonna be a doozy."
