Chapter Two: Overconfidence
William and Felix were lucky to get the best monk in the entire nation when they arrived. Uther, personal aid to Archbishop Faol, had been here on business. William had always liked the man in the times he'd met him, he often went out of his way for others.
"Well, you certainly seem to have outdone yourself this time, Felix," noted Uther as he healed the boy. "How did it happen this time?"
"Prince Varian Wrynn took me for a spy," said Felix.
"Ah, well, I was going to offer to have a word with whoever did this," said Uther, "but that may be beyond my ability. Still, William, did you really leave Prince Varian on his own to return to his caravan?"
"He'd just finished beating my servant to a pulp. I didn't trust myself to be cordial," admitted Wiliam.
"You ought to have gone with him," said Uther. "He is the Prince. Felix could have gotten here on his own, and in any case, your duty is to the Royal Family of Stormwind.
"In fact, you ought to head to Grand Hamlet at once. Your father is likely entertaining guests."
"But Felix-" began William.
"Go," said Felix. "It's not as if you'll make these bruises heal any faster."
William nodded. Then he drew out a pouch he'd meant to give him before but forgotten. "Right.
"Here's your pay."
And so William headed off on his own. He hurried, one hand on his sword as he kept his cloak around him. The days had gotten a bit colder lately, and he didn't like it at all. Still, he soon came into Grand Hamlet proper. It was a large town, surrounded by walls of white-stone. The gate remained open, but with guards as well and a moat surrounding it.
Entering the gates, William found his father. Duke Vanion was speaking with a number of messengers. "Then, the refugees have all been resettled?" William couldn't hear the reply. "Good, we can proceed with the next step soon, we just need to wait for Orgrim to make his move."
The messenger left, and Duke Vanion glanced up to where William was approaching. William had always taken more after his mother. He had Father's green eyes, but Mother's flaxen hair and tanned complexion.
"Son, you're here," said Vanion. "I had sent a messenger to find you and Rusara, but she'd disappeared as usual. No doubt speaking with the woods. I'd been afraid you'd miss the King's visit."
"I wasn't aware King Llane was visiting, Father," said William, not wanting to bring up Varian.
"Neither was I," admitted Vanion. "Apparently, he wants to see how his agents have been operating. They might not have been part of this nation, but they remain people.
"Where is Felix?"
Felix emerged from the shadows? How had he overtaken William so quickly anyway?
"Um, well, Prince Varian, or a boy who claimed to be Prince Varian, beat him up. He took him for a spy," said William, deciding he couldn't keep the pretense of good relations up. "I got him to stop and took him to the Abbey."
"Well, that is problematic," said Vanion. "You didn't have a scuffle with Varian, did you?"
"He had a scuffle with me," said William.
"Well, I recommend speaking softly," said Vanion. "King Llane is a reasonable man, I doubt that he'll hold a grudge over it. Just be certain to apologize to Prince Varian later."
"Apology?" said William. "Why? For him beating up my servant?"
"Formality, he is the Prince and therefore cannot be wrong," said Father. "And one injured servant is not a cause to risk a vendetta with the future king."
And so they waited. William ended up changing into a new set of clothes and ordered Felix to make himself scarce. He picked a cloak and outfit that would allow him to move effectively. Father seemed to believe a battle was imminent. During this time, Father ended up taking numerous messengers. The soldiers gathered outside the gates.
Battle was imminent. But against who? Which orc?
"Here they are," said Father eventually.
King Llane rode into the gates upon a steed as white as snow. His long, blonde beard reached down to his chest and, at his side, was a great sword. He was dressed all in shining mail and wore a cloak of blue as he dismounted to greet Vanion and clasp his hand.
"Duke Vanion, I see that all is well under your leadership, as it always has been," said Llane.
The Royal Guard of Llane came soon behind him, and Vanion was among them. The boy glared at William, who gazed back without expression.
"You give me too much credit, King Llane," said Vanion. "My purpose is, and always has been, to motivate men to perform to the best of their ability."
"In that, you excel," said Llane. Then he glanced back. "This is my son, Varian. He had a few adventures earlier, so I ask you to forgive his apparel."
"And this is my own, William," said Father.
William came forward and offered his hand. He smiled in a friendly fashion to Varian, who sulked and looked at it. "I believe we got off on the wrong foot earlier."
Eventually, Varian took the hand. "Yes, we certainly did."
"Perhaps we could move past it?" asked William.
Varian stopped sulking, mostly. "Of course. It's not important."
"Would this meeting have taken place on your adventure earlier today, son?" asked Llane, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, Father I... well, there was a misunderstanding," said Varian.
"Best not to dwell on it," said William. No sense in forcing a humiliation.
"So how are the farming methods progressing anyway?" asked Llane.
"The new farms are nearly complete as you requested," said Father. "We have nearly met the quota you desired, and I expect we may well exceed it."
"I am glad to hear it," said Llane. "We will have need of the food, and in the coming times, every man will have to pull his weight. How is your wife, Azgora?"
"Not here, she is covering the retreat alongside Lothar," said Vanion. "I feel she is far too aggressive for her own good. She's always in favor of pressing the assault, even when a defense would be better."
"I'm surprised you don't wish to follow her," said Llane, a chiding tone.
"I have absolute confidence in your champion. And someone must deal with these less glorious affairs," said Vanion. "If no one grows the crops, our army will not last long, as you made abundantly clear."
"Then you are not ill content with your posting?" asked Llane. "Most of my other Captains have sought to join the battlefield before now. Few indeed have chosen to make a career of farming."
"It is not glorious," admitted Father. "But someone must maintain authority over the farmlands. And also provide guidance to those tasked to it."
Llane slapped him across the back. "Well, I am glad to have a man who enjoys the task. I may need you for more than that soon, Vanion. Garona tells me that the preparations for war that Blackhand is making are coming to an end. The orcs are becoming increasingly brazen in their attacks. They may soon fall upon Grand Hamlet.
"Already, I have heard of several battles in Elywynn Forest. Yet I hear you have drawn back your forces, focusing wholly on evacuating over the river. You have also asked Lothar to deliberately leave the bridges in that area exposed. Is this true?"
"Our withdrawal is one of deliberate policy, King Llane," said Father. "When the orcs taste victory, they become reckless. Elywynn Forest is untenable; it is too wide open and does not lend itself to organized combat. In personal combat, orcs are larger and stronger and tend to win."
"So you yield ground to them without a fight?" asked Llane.
"They perceive me as weak," said Vanion. "That I attempted to negotiate at all made them think that, and this retreat plays into that belief. My spies are watching the river and know of two bridges that I have deliberately left unguarded."
"You don't mean to catch them at the chokepoint?" asked Llane, narrowing his eyes.
"I mean to destroy them beyond it," said Vanion.
"Vanion, I am certain you have your reasons for believing this strategy will work," said Llane. He had a tone that said otherwise. "But if you were going to confront them in open battle, why not do it in Elywynn?"
"Mindset is an important factor. In Elywynn, they would be preparing for war," said Vanion. "Once they have crossed the bridges unchecked, they will be prepared for slaughter.
"To that end, I arranged for a large amount of dwarven ale to be left, purely by accident, near both bridges."
"You are banking a great deal on the assumption that our enemy is overconfident," said Llane. "What if you are wrong?"
"If they head straight for Grand Hamlet, I have other plans to deal with that, of course.
"It is a calculated risk. If we stop them at the bridge, they will simply reform and come back in greater numbers. If we can deal them a serious defeat, however, it may be enough to turn the tide in our favor."
"Perhaps, but it is not a risk I am willing to take," said Llane. "We will hold the enemy at the bridges when they come. Reposition your forces to stop them when they attack."
Vanion nodded. "...As you command."
He made a scarcely imperceptible move with one hand, and a messenger rushed forward on cue to bow. Only William noticed it as she bowed and threw off her dark hood to reveal Rusara. "Duke Vanion."
"Rusara, what is it?" asked Vanion.
"Who is this elf, I have never seen her like?" asked Llane.
"One from a faraway land, the details are not relevant," said Vanion. "Suffice to say she has many contacts among birds and beasts. What news?"
"The orcs have begun their march," said Father. "Even now they are crossing over the northmost bridge in great numbers. However, they have sent no scouts ahead. Lothar is otherwise engaged across the river alongside Azgora, so they will not be able to aid us."
"I see," said Vanion. "Fortune has blessed and cursed us at once. King Llane, may I command?"
"Of course," said Llane.
"Muster our forces, we must go to counter them as soon as we may," said Vanion. "Gather the militia, tell them the time we have drilled for is at hand. Use Plan A. Tell them..." He eyed Llane, who was already testing the weight of his sword. "Tell them the King fights with us."
"Plan A?" asked Varian. "What's that?"
"Father believes in finding out what the possibilities are," said William. "Then having a plan for each one. If the enemy was going to cross it would be at the north, the south, or both. So he had the militia train to quickly assemble at various points."
"Well, what if they didn't cross?" asked Varian.
"You need a plan for that as well, of course," said William.
"You are welcome to command in my place if you will," said Vanion.
"Certainly, I shall be on the battlefield," said Llane. "But I prefer to lead from the front. Varian, get a sword meant for fighting and let us go. I want our sons to witness the war for themselves."
Varian seemed excited by this. William, however, did not want to be anywhere near the fighting. When the march began, he had half a mind to accidentally fall behind. That kind of thing tended to happen during every march, after all.
As they made their way down the road, however, they saw groups of people fleeing the encroaching Horde. Many of them looked truly desperate, even if things were proceeding as planned. Shelters had been provided, and they could return when the battle was done. But Varian looked angry when he saw them.
"Your father is weak," said Varian suddenly.
"Excuse me?" asked William.
"He keeps giving in to the orcs, letting them do as they like," said Varian hotly. "Now he's letting them cross over the river and pretending like he planned the whole thing."
"He did plan this. It's a strategy," said William, not pleased.
"A strategy which means forcing people to abandon their homes in Elywynn," said Varian.
"We're losing Elywynn anyway; at least this way, we can defeat the orcs," said William.
"Your father isn't going to defeat the orcs at all," said Varian. "If anyone is, it will be my father or Lothar. They have the guts for a real fight."
"Believe what you wish," said William, not in the mood to contest the issue.
As they journeyed closer to the river. They came across groups of the militia who had cut across the country by the normal paths. They joined the ranks, swelling the numbers of Alliance forces with many crossbowmen.
"Duke Vanion, we stand ready as ordered. Is the King really here?" asked a middle-aged man.
Before Vanion could come forward, Llane came forward instead, and the men cheered. "Indeed, he is. I am pleased to see so many of you ordinary folk ready to aid against the Horde. But we must move swiftly if we are to counter this enemy."
Soon Rusara returned to them, though William hadn't noticed when she'd gone back. She went to their side. "Vanion, my birds have returned. It is as you predicted, after their long march, the orcs have halted. They have spread out to plunder the farmsteads, and drink of the ale we left behind. They do not expect to be resisted."
"Were the evacuations successful?" asked Vanion from his horse.
"Yes, most of the villagers in the region have gone to safehouses with their valuables," said Rusara. "They are safe."
Father let a rare smile come to his face. "Then, by the grace of God, I have them now!"
"You'd best hope as much, Vanion," said Llane. "We have paid cost enough for this battle already."
On the day waned, until the sun was sinking in the distance. At last, they came to the orcish camp. While their forces were hidden behind the bend, Llane and Vanion moved up to survey the enemy ranks. William and Varian went with him, and what William saw made him smile. This would show Varian, who was weak.
"There they are, no watch, nothing," said Llane. "And more are crossing the river even now."
The orcish camp was less a camp and more a drunken party. They'd obviously been drinking freely, and dwarvish ale was taking its toll. The massive black wolves were rolling upon the dirt, wrestling with their riders. Others were sparring. From the looks of things, they'd captured a few people trying to flee and had strung their bodies up. William felt sick at the sight, but he knew it had been a necessary sacrifice.
He wished he was better at healing. Then he might be able to argue for staying behind the lines in a support role. Then again, William probably wasn't going to get called to fight anyway. Not except at the direst need.
"Our militia are in position, Duke Vanion," said Rusara. "However, it seems rumors have spread among the orcs that there has been a breakthrough. More are on their way now to take advantage."
"It would appear you were right, Vanion. Shall I give the order?" asked Llane.
"I believe it would be best to wait," said Vanion, motioning with one hand. More orcs were even now coming to cross the river. "I want to wait until as many orcs have crossed over as can be defeated. Our victory must be total. And in this state, they won't be able to mount much of a defense.
"There is plenty more dwarven ale where that came from."
"Why would they start drinking in enemy territory?" muttered Llane. "It's inconceivable."
"You forget the words Orgrim Doomhammer wrote to me in reply to my last messenger," said Vanion. "I am a feeble, weak Duke who knows nothing of true war. One who will be easily swept aside when I have no one else to hide behind."
"Don't enjoy victory until we have it, Vanion," said Llane.
"Father, when the attack comes, I want to join it," said Varian.
"Not yet, son," said Llane. "I know you are eager to test your mettle, but you are too young."
"Vanion, look," said Rusara. "The banner of Orgrim Doomhammer."
Sure enough, there was the Black Mountain on a red background, the symbol of the Blackrock Clan. It was coming toward them in the distance.
"Then we are out of time," said Vanion. "Give the order!"
"I shall lead the attack myself, then," said Llane.
William realized he was obligated to want to fight. "Father, let me-"
"No, William, you will not be joining the fray," said Vanion.
Thank God, William had been afraid Father might take his request seriously. "I understand."
Duke Vanion and King Llane then assembled before their forces. Rusara sent birds outward with messengers to all the other forces. William had seen the maps and knew that the orcs were surrounded, with enemies in the trees. Now Llane rode before him men, sword in hand. "Forward, men of Stormwind! Let your oaths be fulfilled and let the enemy fall before us! For Stormwind!"
And then King Llane blew a great horn call. It resounded throughout the trees that swayed in the wind. Forward leaped the Alliance armies as arrows shot out of the trees into the disarray of the enemy camp. The orcs clutched for weapons as many fell from arrows. The rest were hit hard, cut down in moments. Some tried to fight in a drunken stupor, others who were sober formed knots to try and hold the enemy off.
More orcs pressed to rush across the bridge to join the battle, only to be met halfway. There were other orcs fleeing the battle. As the slaughter began behind, the two sides of green-skinned brutes began to fight. The battle had become a route in moments, and now it was becoming a slaughter.
Father was not going to let any of them live.
He'd endured mocking letters from the other lords. He had been called weak time and again for seeking diplomacy. And when he'd finally managed to get a meeting with the orcs, he'd been scorned and insulting. Orgrim had had the nerve to call House Gabriel weak, dishonorable, cowards.
He knew better now.
Suddenly, the bridge collapsed from the weight of warriors. Orcs plunged into the waters en masse. Some lightly armored ones tried to swim to shore as archers began to shoot them from above. Those in heavy armor sank likes stones. The water ran red with blood. And all the Blackrock Clan could do was stand, looking on in horror.
"You were quick to give up," said Varian.
"Of course," said William. "I don't want to march to war at all, I'm just obligated to as a noble. I'm glad Father didn't call me up. House Gabriel bears the symbol of a serpent for a reason. We do not rush to battle, but when we strike, we kill."
Varian drew up his chipped and beaten sword, the ornate one. Finally, he turned it around and offered it to William. "Take this."
"Your sword, why?" asked William.
Varian shifted. "I was wrong about your father, is all. This worked, after all.
"This sword is not really any good for combat, and it's broken anyway. I thought you might like it as a trophy."
William took it and looked over it. "...Thank you."
"William," said Felix. "I just got word from the healing tent. They've got some wounded in and would like you to help them."
William nodded. "Right, excuse me."
"You mean to help with the healing?" asked Varian.
"I've been trained in the use of God's power," said William. "Or the light, if we must use the northerners word. Father has me practice its use by healing the sick and injured. I have to go to them."
William left Varian quickly, hurrying down toward the healing tent. There he found Uther tending to the injured. He wasn't a great deal of help, only being able to heal minor injuries. But by healing those small injuries, it gave the stronger healers time to work. So those who needed them had their full attention.
So William finished quickly and made his way out, carrying the chipped sword. Looking at it, he wasn't sure exactly what use it would be as a trophy. Perhaps it was more valuable as an apology by Varian. Even so...
And then an upside-down face was inches away from his own. Stepped back, he saw what appeared to be a girl his age. Yet she had skin as black as night and glowing sapphire blue eyes. Wings like those of dragons, were coming from her back, and she was smiling with sharp teeth. And she was hanging from a tree branch by a long black tail, topped with a blade in the shape of a crescent moon.
She also had enormous, perk...
Eyes for her apparent age, don't look at women in that fashion. Oh, wait, she was a demon.
"Prince Varian, I presume?" she said, smiling wider.
"Who-"
And then her hand blurred, and everything went black.