The Culling

I didn't know then how the other two girls fared with the missions my brother had tasked them with, but things did not go that well for me. I stepped out of the portal, and into the palace court yard. I crossed the mote, and quickly headed for the throne room, my white cloak billowing behind me. I was dressed in soft blue leather trousers and tunic. My knee high boots, belt, gloves and plates were white. My hip long hair was braided down my side, and a thin ivory circlet with dozens of hanging lapis beads, enchanted to provide me with more agility and haste, was wrapped around my head. The small sapphire gem in the middle, matched the color of my eyes. I was a Lordaeron princess after all, I had to wear Lordaeron colors. In retrospect, I should have been dressed in red, then all the blood that was splattered on me by the end of the day, would not have clashed with my chosen colors. My trusted bow and quiver were fastened diagonally across my back, and two daggers were sheathed at my sides. I meant business. The guards bowed as I walked past them, pushed the double doors, and stepped into the throne room. The council was in full session. 'Good', I thought, 'They all need to hear this. Perhaps they'll get off their fat arses and finally do something about this'. I stepped in the middle, dropped on one knee before my father and king, and bowed my head.

"Your Majesty.", I said in a loud voice. He smiled at me.

"Ah, my daughter. Welcome!", he said in a voice filled with pride, as he stood up and opened his arms at me. I approached him and we hugged. "What news have you, my child? What is happening in Stratholme?", he asked me, as he pointed to my seat next to him.

"Grim news, Sire. The infection in Brill was just the beginning, but we managed to save a third of the population. Andorhal is lost, none was left alive by the time we arrived, but we did manage to dispatch the undead. Hearthglen was almost lost to us, but we were able to save it in the end with the aid of Lord Uther and his Paladins. My brother slew the Necromancer responsible for distributing the plagued grain. It was Kel'Thuzad, a former member of the Council of Six of the Kirin'Tor. Before he died, he told us that a dreadlord demon named Malganis, was pulling the strings and that he had sent whole crates of the plagued grain to Stratholme. We arrived there last night and investigated. I'm afraid that it had been already distributed and consumed. What we are trying to determine at the moment is how many are infected. By last count it was more than half of the population. That means over five thousand undead will be attacking the living in less than twelve hours. We need more people if we are to contain this threat. We have to protect the healthy population of Stratholme, if there are any left, and keep the infected from spreading the disease further and attacking the living in the surrounding area. Father, please let me portal divisions one to ten there. They will help Arthas and me a lot, and the city will be saved. All of Lordaeron will be saved", I concluded my report to my King and father.

"That's preposterous", an annoying and obnoxious voice echoed in the room, "surely the prince and his Paladins can handle a few undead!". I whipped my head around, and glared at the owner of said voice. It was none other, than Grand Marshal Garithos.

"Grand Marshal Garithos!", I drawled, "I'm surprised to see you here. Isn't the eleventh division deployed at Durnholde and the surrounding area, dealing with the Orc revolt? I thought that you would have taken your duties more seriously after Thrall decapitated Commander Blackmoore and destroyed the keep.", Father chucked at that. He later told me that he was about to ask him that himself, when he saw him strutting in the throne room, mere moments before I arrived. Garithos face turned red with rage, but held his tongue. He didn't dare sass the Princess. He rose and bowed at me.

"Your Grace, we are still pursuing the Orcs, and have engaged them on several different occasions. But they have become very elusive and quite organized. Thrall has proved to be very cunning and ingenious. He uses our own tactics against us, and he continues to liberate his brethren from our camps. We discovered that he is now headed towards Hammerfall at the Arathi Highlands to liberated the Orcs held there. I came to report this to the king and request permission to pursue the Orcs beyond the borders of Lordaeron.", he explained to me in a rather condescending tone. Before I could berate him for his idiocy, my father spoke.

"The kingdom of Arathor has been destroyed for several years now, Grand Marshal. I do not need permission to deploy my armies through that realm, because there is no one left to ask. Princess Fiona, Admiral Daelin's wife has been dead for ten years now. The admiral and his sons are on a mission to the Broken Isles, Jaina is in Stratholme, and my daughters are currently visiting Stormwind with my grandchildren for Prince Anduin's birthday. None of them are around to ask. And even if they were, they would not have objected. They would have been happy to help us. But most importantly, you did not require my permission to enter the Arathor kingdom, because there is the no Arathor left anymore.", my father scolded the Grand Marshal.

My sisters. I haven't thought about them in years. My mother was not my father's first wife. The eighteen year old Lianne, Llane Wrynn's younger sister was noticed by my father, who at the age of forty five, decided to marry again and produce a male heir to the throne of Lordaeron, since his first wife, Queen Morgana, Llane' older sister, died giving birth to my twin half sisters, Katrina and Elizabeth, after ten failed pregnancies. Unfortunately my mother, had her sister's luck when it came to pregnancies and childbirth. It took her fifteen years to carry a pregnancy to full term, and I was born, two years before Arthas. I don't remember my sisters at all, they eloped with Admiral Daelin Proudmoore's sons when they turned sixteen. Father was displeased, and disowned them. They only held the deeds from their mother's properties and lands in the Kingdom of Stormwind, but nothing from Lordaeron. This only increased my sisters' resentment towards Father, which extended to Arthas and me. They won't even speak to us. Father did not hold my sisters' antics against the Admiral. His sons however, were not allowed to set foot on Lordaeron for years. His anger softened only after Arthas started to court Jaina, and allowed them access. My sisters however, did not return home to visit. They stubbornly remained in Kul'Tiras raising my nieces and nephews away from their grandfather, aunt and uncle. But apparently my father was well informed of all of their movements. He may be angry at them, but still loved them dearly and cared for their well being.

Before I left for Brill, I was at the throne room to ask for my father's permission to join Arthas in Brill, when a crow flew into the chamber and turned into an aged man, who called him self "the Prophet". He warned father that a great darkness was about to befall our realm, that this kingdom shall fall, and the best thing to do was to travel west and settle our people in the ancient land of Kalimdor. Father scoffed, and ordered him away, but the direness and desperation of the Prophet's voice sent chills down my spine. And a new plan formed in my mind. I informed Father that I will send Edmond to Stormwind to attend Anduin's birthday, and asked him if I could go to Brill and help Arthas. He of course acquiesced to my request, so I sent my boy to Stormwind with all of his possessions, before heading for Brill. I also wrote a letter to my cousin, Varian, explaining the situation here in Lordaeron, the Prophet's warnings, and expressing my fears that our kingdom might fall if the Prophet's words were true and we were not able to contain the plague. Varian's immediate response found me in Brill, right before we rode for the Bulwark. Edmond was more than welcome to stay as long as needed, I should move to Stormwind at once, and that he already sent word to Father that he and his troops, were at his disposal if things turned really bad. He sent his regards to his best friend and cousin, Arthas, and his love to me, reassuring me that Edmond was in very capable hands. Bless him, despite all the tragedies that befell upon him at a very early age, he was still holding himself together for the sake of his son and his kingdom, though he was severely depressed about Tiffin's untimely death almost ten years ago. He was always willing to help anyone in need, and thanks to his hospitality, I will not have to worry about my son's safety. My father's voice brought me back to reality.

"I'm afraid that I have not much to give you, my daughter. All the divisions are deployed throughout the kingdom on different missions. It will be too late by the time I send word to them and they portal to Stratholme. Only the first and the seventh are here in the Capital, and I need the seventh to protect the Capital and Tirisfal Glades, in case more undead appear. Take the first they are the most capable, after all, I know them all and fought beside them during the first and second war. They will take care of the situation. And your Rangers are of course at your disposal.", he concluded and nodded at his secretary to inform the First and the Rangers to report at the palace court yard. I sighed and inwardly rolled my eyes. The first division is exclusively comprised of war veterans a step before retirement. Capable and experienced as they were, they were all a tad too old for the task in hand. And my Ranger's numbers was still very small. They were in fact twenty in total. Plus fifty war veterans. Arthas is going to have a fit when he sees them, and rightly so.

"Father, with all due respect, this is a very serious situation. Stratholme is the second largest city in our kingdom. By tomorrow, five thousand undead monsters will be roaming within its walls, and the country side, if we don't manage to contain them. And we don't know if the rest of the towns have been infected. We need to contain the plague there, before they infect everyone else by biting them. Our numbers are not enough to do that.", I pleaded with my father.

"I'm sorry, my child, but there is nothing else I can do at the moment. If the situation is so dire as you say, then the rest of the divisions need to remain were they are and continue to patrol the realm and dispatch the undead and contain the plague. I have the utmost confidence in you, Arthas and the troops to contain the plague and the undead. Hopefully, Anasterian and Antonidas will send more people to you.", he told me.

"What about Varian, he already offered to send troops up here, and even come himself. What did you tell him?", I asked. My father shook his head.

"I do not believe that we need his help yet, my daughter. We can take care of this situation at the moment without Varian taking his troops from his own borders to help us. The Blackrock orcs, the Zandalari Trolls, and the Ogres of the Deadwind Pass are a big enough threat for him to take care of. He doesn't have to worry about our problems too. Not to mention the reports I've been receiving about whispers of dissension, south of the Nazferiti River. No, Varian has enough problems as it is. We cannot burden them with our own.", he concluded.

I didn't like this one bit, but there was nothing I could do. That's all my father had to offer. And he was right, Varian had enough in his plate, he could not afford to pull troops from his realm to save ours. So I stood up, bowed to father and left. The First and the Rangers were waiting for me at the court yard. I appraised them of the situation in Stratholme, and a large portal was created by the Magi for us. I was the last one through and ordered them to wait for us at the road to Stratholme, across the bridge. I then run inside the city to find my brother. He was at the festival lane patrolling with the rest of our soldiers. He was not happy.

"How can Father only send the first to aid us? Bloody hell, he's finally gone senile. There is no way in the nether, tha we'll be able to pull this through. People are dying by the minute Calie. And are unceremoniously incinerated before they rise. The natives are getting restless, they know that something awful is going on, and that this is more that a plague. They are asking questions. Questions that I have no answers.", he sighed. Just then, we spotted Thalia running to us. She had just returned from Silvermoon city.

"Thalia, please give me some good news.", my brother smiled at the beautiful Priestess. 'I can't believe him! Even now, when the world is about to blow up in his face, he still finds the time to flirt. Typical Arthas!'

"I'm afraid that the Silvermoon nobbles convinced my king that the plague outbreak is of no concern for Quel'Thalas. That we have already repaid you for the help you offered us with the Amani, when we helped you during the first and second war, and our enchanted forests will protect us from the undead. I am very sorry, Arthas, he listened to them. He is old, weak, and highly dependent on their support, since Prince Kael'Thas prefers to remain in Dalaran and deal with Kirin Tor affairs, rather than the ones of his own homeland. However, our Ranger General, Sylvanas Windrunner, and her second in command, Lor'themar Theron, convinced him to send Halduron Brightwing and a company of twenty Rangers to assist you. He's amazing, Arthas, and every single Ranger under his command is exceptionally skilled. They wouldn't be Farstriders if they weren't perfect. They are waiting at the road along with the Elven Kirin Tor Magi and Priests that Prince Kael'Thas sent to us. Jaina is still arguing with Antonidas about him sending people. Thankfully, the Prince does not require Antonidas' permission to order all the senior Elven Magi and Priest apprentices to come here, since they fall under his authority, as their Crown Prince. They are all top of their classes, you will find them extremely useful. Prince Kael'thas would have come as well, they told me, but unfortunately he came down with a nasty case of "Ancient relic curse disease". He was looking for a cure for the undead, when he stumbled upon an ancient Highborn relic. He broke the magical seal, but was affected by the curse side effect. He will be fine, but it will take him a few weeks to fully recover.", the Priestess looked up at my brother with those big blue eyes, biting her lower lip. 'Great! At least she didn't bat those long black eyelashes at him yet. That would have floored him', I rolled my eyes.

"Thank you, Thalia. Your help has been invaluable so far. I know that you did your best to convince your king to send more soldiers, and I am grateful that your Prince and Ranger General were sympathetic to our plea. I'm afraid that both kingdoms are plagued with a really bad case of nobble rash. Annoying, useless, and extremely hard to get rid off. I swear to you, as soon as I become king, I will send the lot of them to the gallows. Kael, should probably do the same as well.", he gave Calia one of his trademark smiles and put his hands over our shoulders.

"Come, my Ladies. Let's go check on the forces we got.", he lead us towards the gates. Before we reached the arch, we were stopped by a group of townsfolk asking for a healer. Thalia and I stayed behind to offer some help, while Arthas continued towards the bridge. By the time Thalia finished performing the last rights on the dying, while I was giving words of comfort to the relatives, Arthas had returned with a thunderous look on his face.

"What happened, Arthas?", we both asked him.

"Things just got even worse. Much worse. First Uther took his sweet time to arrive, and when I called him for it, he got really snappy. Then, I got the signal from the gates that everyone has been infected. I order Uther to purge the city and he refused. He disobeyed a direct order. I disbanded the Order of the Knights of the Silver Hand and sent away those who were not willing to save this land. All but a handful of Paladins left. Jaina included.", a heartbroken look clouded his face but he quickly recovered, "We will have to make do with the First, the Farstriders, our Rangers and the Elven Kirin Tor Magi and Priests. We are forced to do the unthinkable. We have to kill every man, woman and child in this entire city before they turn, escape and start attacking the healthy. It will be almost impossible to slay them, if we allow them to turn first, because our numbers are too small. We can't even wait for them to die and incinerate their bodies. We don't have enough people for such a task. I really hate this, girls. I'm their Crown Prince, I'm supposed to save them, not kill them all. But there's no choice. There's no cure and time is running out. If they're allowed to turn, we won't be able to contain them all. We can't afford to allow even one single undead monster escape the confines of the walls. We have to protect the rest of Lordaeron and surrounding realms. My only consolation is that by giving them a clean death, we spare them from the suffering of wasting away into a painful death and then becoming monsters controlled by a demon, who will make them attack their loved ones", he sighed and shook his head, looking ten years older.

"We have no choice, Brother. We need to slay them and save Lordaeron and the other kingdoms.", I squeezed his shoulder.

"Let history judge us, Arthas. This plague needs to be contained right here and now! As a healer, I see no other immediate options. You are right, this entire city must be cleansed. Light Forgive us!", Thalia gave my brother a reassuring sad smile. Arthas cupped her cheek and stroke his thumb against it. She leaned lightly towards his palm.

"Thank you, Thalia. I really appreciate your support in this. Lordaeron is not even your kingdom, yet you still care enough for it to do the right thing. I really appreciate your support as well, Sister.", he added as he squeezed my shoulder, " you have always supported every decision I have taken. Come, my ladies. Let's save this land, by sacrificing our own souls.", he sighed and moved towards a group of city folk. One moved towards him and said something. Arthas removed "Light's Vengeance from his shoulder, and crushed his skull. And so it begun. I raised my bow, and started shooting at the civilians indiscriminately. Thalia followed suit by casting "Smites", "Penances" and "Holy Novas" at them, but the deadly kind this time, and not the healing, she later told me that using Holy magic, instead of Shadow against them was painless and it resembled going into deep sleep. Both her and Arthas, along with the rest of the Priests and Paladins, were chanting prayers while killing the civilians, performing the last rights. The rest of our people had already stepped into the fold and gave the sick townsfolk clean deaths. Passerby adventurers offered their help and were tasked with helping the rest of us by taking out any undead monsters they came across. Somewhere at the start of the Culling of Stratholme, as it was later called by historians, the dreadlord Malganis "graced" us with his presence and taunted us, making his intentions known. Arthas vowed that he'd rather see his people dead by his hands, rather than allowing them to serve the demon in death. It was dusk when we reached Crusader's square, having already cleansed the rest of the city. The only sentient beings left alive in Stratholme were our own forces. The dreadlord appeared at the middle of the square and started to taunt by brother, who took the bait instantly. They fought for what seemed like hours. Arthas did not allow any of us to interfere. He wanted to deal with him by himself. He was very close to defeating Malganis, when the demon rose up to the air and challenge him to come and find him to Northrend and finish this. My brother swore that he would hunt him down to the ends of the world if he had to. It was over, the dreadlord had disappeared back to where he came from, and Arthas was standing in the middle of the square heaving and snarling. I slowly approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's over, little brother. We have to go. I think that it would be best if we set the entire city on fire, to ensure that no one is still hiding in one of the buildings. We can't risk them escaping and spreading the disease any further.", I whispered.

"Give the order please, Calie. I...I think that I have done enough to this city today.", he whispered as he moved towards the gates, shoulders slumped, after he thanked us and the adventurers, stating that he needed to make plans about an expedition to Northrend.

"Set the city on fire. No one should be allowed to survive and contaminate others", I bellowed, and dipped the tip of my arrows on a dais of oil, then on the fire in front of me, and shot them at the roof tops of the houses. By midnight, the entire city was burning. The Kirin Tor Magi, enchanted the fires to burn forever, thus ensuring that no living being would dare to ever venture close enough to Stratholme and risk getting infected by an undead monster fortunate enough to "survive" our onslaught. I had just returned from the pond after washing all the gore off me, when Halduron came and slumped down next to me, by the fire.

"Hey, little huntress! How are you holding up?", he whispered as he offered me his flask full of Dalaran Noir, a favorite of the Sindorei. Ι took a large sip and gave it back to him.

"I think that I just lost my soul today, Hal. Over five thousand souls perished today by our hands. I don't think that I will ever recover from this. Nor would I ever be able to look my self in the mirror again.", I sighed. He put his hand around my shoulder and hugged me.

"I know exactly how that feels, sweetheart. But you are a Princess of this land, sworn to protect the people from all threats, even if it means that you have to sacrifice a few, in order to save the rest. That is the burden of command. We have to make the hard decisions, and sometimes sacrifice our own souls for the greater good. But we must press on. We must be stronger than the rest of the people that were were bestowed to protect and do whatever it takes to keep them safe. I may not be a prince, but I've been a high ranking Ranger for over a hundred years and have had my share of making hard and impossible decisions that damned some, though saved thousands of others. I was there when Ogrim Doomhammer crushed the head of Anduin Lothar, a single shot of my bow would have saved him. But had I saved him, thousands of Human, Dwarven and Elven troops would have perished, because more Orcs and Trolls were about to break through from the Blackrock pass and swarm us. So I used my very last arrow to make the impossible shot and cut the rope that was holding the boulders together, and the passage was blocked, crushing a third of the Horde forces as they fell. But since then, at least once a week, I dream about that wretched hammer falling on my old friend's head, crushing his skull in, splattering his brains all over the red soil of the Burning Steppes, and snuffing the life out of the best Human I have ever known, besides you of course. It's been over twenty years since that day, Calia, but not a day goes by that I don't think about what would have happened if I had just one more arrow left in my quiver, and one more moment, so I could save Anduin and block the pass. But I keep telling my self, that had I saved the Lion of the Alliance then, all of us would have perished that day. You should do the same thing, little huntress. Had we not purged this city, millions would have died at the hands of the undead.", he squeezed my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. We had finished the large flask of Dalaran Noir, and not eaten anything in over a day. It did not take much to get us both very drunk. I looked up Halduron. He was not Kael'Thas, but he was gorgeous. His hair was strawberry blonde, instead of golden, and his eyes had a different, darker, shade of blue than the prince's. His decades out in the wild, battling Trolls, Orcs and Ogres, had turned him into a lean mean fighting machine, with the body of a god. And the smoldering look he was giving me, was making me weak on the knees. I never imagined that he saw me like that. To him I was always the little Human Princess who aspired to become a Farstrider. But now, there was no mistake. I saw pure, unadulterated lust in his eyes. And it matched mine. He must have seen it in my eyes as well, because the next moment he crushed his lips on mine. Fireworks went on in my head.

'Wow, Elves sure know how to kiss!', his tongue traced my lower lip, requesting access, and I allowed it. Soon we were locked in a very passionate embrace, oblivious at what was happening around us. Fortunately, my tent was much further away from the others' and Arthas was nowhere in sight. And neither was Thalia for that matter. Not that it concerned Halduron and me at that moment. Our kiss was becoming more and more demanding and passionate, Halduron's lips left mine, and started to trail hot kisses down my jawline and neck.

"Shall we go to your tent, little Huntress?, he whispered as he nipped the crook between my neck and shoulder.

"Oh yes, Hal. By all means, let's so so.", I whispered back, and before I even knew what was happening, I was whisked into the tent in record time. 'Impressive, he's not a high ranking Ranger because he's gorgeous. I just hope that he is not that fast in other matters.', He was not. Elves were very hedonistic in their romantic encounters, and Halduron introduced me to techiniques that I never even dreamed about in my most erotic dreams. Prestor was a good lover, but I could tell that he was holding back, a lot. And I later discovered why. Being a dragon and one under the influence of an old god, he feared that he might seriously hurt or kill me if he lost control. But thankfully, Halduron had no such qualms, I was certain that my moans and occasional screams of ecstasy could be heard all around the camp. I was later informed that they were, but our passionate cries, mingled with those of Thalia's and Arthas' cries from the other side. How embarrassing!