The green fields of Hearthglen and Andorhal were always a welcome sight. The lush fields were filled with life in the form of trees, bushes and of course crops. The lands were open for anyone who wished to make a living, be they hunters, farmers, bakers and more.
Alan smiled as he walked the road to Andorhal. He had departed the early day with his daughter, Estee. She sat atop a cart that he was pushing forward, filled to the brim with grains and other vegetables, to be distributed and sold in the city of Andorhal. He smiled at her, as she looked at him directly in the face.
"Are we there soon daddy?"
Alan laughed as he looked at her, smile on his face.
"Soon, northern light. Soon"
Northern light was a nickname he had given to his daughter. She was only twelve years old and she meant the world to him. She kept reminding him of his times in the south, the time he meet his wife and what will come, if he is just patient and tenacious. He sighed, remembering what happened a year ago.
He had received words that the family farm was doing poorly. Alan had lived in the rebuilt city of Stormwind since the second war, initially helping to rebuild the city, but later because he found his wife there. A baker from Stormwind. Elizabeth.
The two of them had gotten two children, Estee and Granis. He missed the days they were all together, when he walked in her bakery, trying to help with the baking but failing every time. He had wished to spend more time with them, to be there for them always, but the light did not will it.
The farm needed help, his father, Jonathan, was growing weaker by the day. He could barely push the cart by himself anymore, and the war had taken from them all horses and cows. He had no chance to move the heavy equipment by himself.
And so he had called his son for aid.
Alan tried to convince them all to go north, but Elizabeth was adamant on staying in Stormwind, atleast for the time being. She would come north, when the situation for the family farm had gone to the better. They decided to split for now, leaving Granis in the south and Estee coming with him to the north.
She enjoyed the north. Estee was never happy to work in the bakery but loved helping her father and grandfather in the field, cheering for them, giving them water and spreading seeds over the ground as they prepared the ground.
Alan shook his head as they entered the city of Andorhal. His family had an agreement with one of the houses in the city, House Ryland. He would give them a part of the grain and they would aid him bandits and thugs if needed. He walked to the town hall, looking for their banner. He found it, and stopped himself, looking at Estee.
"Estee, I need you to behave. We are about to meet House Ryland, our patrons. Do not talk unless addressed and let me lead the conversation, got it?"
He looked at her straight in the eyes and she nodded at him with a smile. It was her first time in Andorhal. Alan sighed and pushed the cart into the town square, stopping by the banner of House Ryland.
The old lord Ryland was there greeting him, with a smaller much younger person next to him.
"I see Jonathan send his young to deliver the grain this time. Is the old man to weak to deliver it himself?"
Lord Ryland spoke in a teasing voice and looked at the farmer and his daughter as they stopped before them. Alan looked at the lord, trying to smile at him.
"I am sorry sir, but my father is unable to push the cart by himself. We have no horses left since the war so I had to deliver it for him"
Alan went to begin and unload the grain, handing it over to a man with House Ryland's banner on his chest. He weighted the grain and put it onto a pile of grain. Estee went to push a sack of grain to the side of the cart, helping how much she could. Lord Ryland looked at Estee, smiling at her.
"So, who is the young princess?"
Alan looked up at Lord Ryland, then over to Estee who was looking back at him. He nodded at her, at which she looked over to the old lord.
"My name is Estee Atherton"
"Lord Ryland, you would do yourself to not forget his title or that of any nobleman"
A voice rings behind the old lord. It was the younger man besides the lord. Estee looked at him quickly looking to the ground again, lowly muttering.
"I am sorry"
Lord Ryland looked at the scene and sighed. He turned to the younger man, before looking back to Alan, who had just unloaded the last sack of grain, sweat forming on his forehead.
"This fine young man is my son, Atyrian Ryland. He is the next heir to House Ryland here in Andorhal"
Alan went to attention and bowed before the young man, an act that made the old lord smile, almost laugh.
"An honour, my name is Alansen Atherton. My family has been strong supporters of House Ryland and I hope this will continue for generations."
Atyrian simply nodded at the farmer.
"Ahh, yes. Your family provides grain, we provide security"
Silence ensued. Lord Ryland looks back to Alan.
"Is there anything else?"
Alansen hesitated a moment, before looking at the old lord. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak.
"My lord, I am here with an plea for aid"
Lord Ryland's smile vanished, clearly hearing the seriousness in the farmers voice.
"The war has ravaged the lands. We farmers are barely able to keep up our production. My family's tools are almost broken by now and we have no animals to work the field. If it stays like this, then I am afraid, we can't deliver on our end of the deal for much longer"
The old lord turned to look at Estee, then to the pile of grain. He sighed and shook his head.
"The war took a heavy price on all of us. We barely have anything left to give. I will see what I can do, but only because of the history between your father and I, and your service in the second war. Now, be off"
Alan bowed before the lord, Estee did the same, much to the amusement of the lord. Atyrian shook his head. Estee jumped onto the cart and the farmer pushed the cart, still loaded with vegetables, to the market.
"Well, that went well"
Estee looks to the ground, not looking at her father. He stops the chart and places his hand on her chin, making her look at him. He smiles at her.
"You did well. Now stop being sad or you will be pushing this crate"
He grinned and she smiled back at him. The two continued into he market and stopped at their usual spot. They were soon meet by the people who used to buy their goods. An elderly lady stopped by them and smiled at Estee.
"I see you brought the small one Alan. I remember when you were that size, always wanting to push the cart yourself"
Alan laughed at the old lady, finding some vegetabels in the cart, putting them into a bag.
"That's a long time ago misses Brightbringer. The usual I assume?"
She smiled at him and nodded before turning to Estee again.
"So, what is your name?"
Estee smiled at the old lady.
"Estee, Estee Atherton"
The old lady then points at Alansen, who is still putting vegetables into a bag.
"And you must be a big girl, helping your parents with their daily life. Where is misses Atherton"
Silence ensued and Estee looked to her father, who stopped packing the vegetables. He smiled at the old lady, still looking down at the ground.
"She is in Stormwind with our son. Haven't seen her for a year now"
The smile on Brightbringer's face fell and she looked at them with a sad expression.
"I am sorry to hear that dear"
Alansen sighed as he looked at her again.
"It is fine. We miss them, but atleast we know they are doing well. Sending letters and all. Luckily, mother knows how to read and write, so I can send something back to Stormwind"
With that Alansen finished packed the vegetables and handed it to misses Brightbringer, who handed him two silver in return. He raised his eyebrow, normally he only took one silver. She simply smiled at him.
"Buy something nice for Estee, as a sign of gratitude from me"
With that the old lady walked off with her bag of vegetables. Not much of note happened afterwards. A few people came to but vegetables or chat with the Athertons, mostly people who knew Alansen's father, Jonathan, all wanting to hear how the old farmer was doing.
"Don't worry. He will join us the next time we sell our wares"
Hours passed and a silence spread across Andorhal. Suddenly, people in the northern edges of the sprawling city began to cough and people started to fall onto the ground, unable to keep themselves walking.
Some of the people in the city started to develop a high fever, rending them unconscious almost immediately. Priests rushed in to see what was going on, to try and see if they could help. One priest put his hand on the head of an fallen young man who had fallen unconscious and showed no signs of living, no pulse, no breathing.
That's when the young man suddenly opened his eyes and bite the priest's arm. The priest fell back, only to be assaulted by the young man. The crowd tried to intervene but could do nothing. He simply continued his assault.
Soon enough the same happened to more people. Chaos spread inside the city and the people who had been full of life moments before, suddenly fell on the ground with a high fever, succumbing almost instantly. One thing in common, they all soon rose again, attacking anything living around them.
That's when the city came under attack from the south. A horde of ghouls and a trio of black roped old men entered the city.
"Quickly brethren, we must secure the city before the arrival of the prince"
Ghouls and zombies swarmed the city in a few hours. Chaos ensued and in the midst, fire began to spread. News of the spread and attack has not reached the market place yet, when Alansen sees the smoke from the fire.
"Whats going on?"
Suddenly a loud yell from Lord Ryland bells out, catching Alansen's attention.
"To arms sons and daughters of the Alliance! We are under attack! We will not let the dead take out city!"
With that Alansen saw as halberg wielding soldiers stormed forward, to the southern part of the city. The personal guard of House Ryland had been deployed. Meanwhile, he saw garrison troops run north, battling what looked like civilians. What in the name of the light is going on?
Alansen looked to the side as he felt something squeeze his hand. Estee was hugging his side and had taken hold of his hand. The farmer shook his head and suddenly went down to lift her up, keeping her close to his chest.
"Come on, lets get out of here"
Alansen ran down into the streets of Andorhal. He ran north-east, in the direction of the family farm. He had only gotten a few meters, when he saw what was happening. People were attacking one another, but he also watched how rotten creatures killed and started to devour the living. He looked into one street, finding people in purple casting some sort of spell just above the pile of dead villagers. Suddenly they all opened their eyes again and walked, as if they had never been damaged. An cultist spotted the farmer and pointed at him
The dead were walking again, and now they were after him.
He pressed Estee closer to his chest and started to run again. He jumped over carts, rocks and fallen people. He dodged arrows send by guardsmen trying to keep the undead at bay and he managed to dodge an undead claw, which would cut his throat open if hit.
It seemed like he was going to make it.
That's when catastrophe struck.
A wall came crashing down before him. A house had fallen, the fire had consumed all that kept the building standing. He halted just before the crashing building. He turned around, ready to run, but gasped at the sight before him.
Four undeads, all looking like they did in life, safe for whatever wound killed them, stood before him. He knew three of them. All friends of his childhood. He fell to his knee, as he looked at them, still holding Estee.
The group of undead camp closer.
"Daddy! Daddy I'm scared"
He tried to soothe her, but it was to no avail. He knew what would happen. It was but a matter of time. But he would not go down without at least some of a fight. He set Estee on the ground, forcing her to stand behind him. He then picked up a piece of burning wood. It was hot and he could feel his fingers burn, but he did not care.
"Do you want me fiends! Then come and get me!"
With that the farmer charged forward and bashed the first undead back. He swung again and the piece of burning wood made contact with the head of the second undead. He watched as both fell before the hits, thinking he had beat them.
He hadn't.
Seconds later, they rose again and walked over to him, faster than before. They raised their arms and formed their hands into fists and began to punch him. He tried to push them away, only to be punched or bitten by another one. Soon enough, he drew blood.
He let out one last battlecry and swung the piece of wood again.
"Nothing will take me away from my family! By lights will, you will fail!"
He struck and send one of the undead backwards. He kept them at bay with the burning piece of wood, but new he was not able to keep them back for much longer. He looked behind and saw Estee crying.
He had to keep fighting. For her, for his northern light. He swung again, and this time, the piece of wood his at the exact right angle, splitting the head open and killing the undead. Unfortunately, the wood broke aswell.
"Come and get me you fiends!"
He threw a rock at them, the rock hit the top of the head of one of them and made him fall backwards. He kept on throwing, trying to desperately keep them back.
That's when a miracle happened.
From behind, Lord Ryland had seen the situation Alansen had gotten into. He pushed some of the undead back with his poleaxe before ordering his men to clear the undead that attacked the farmer. The guardsmen soon enough cut down the undead.
The old lord walked to the farmer and helped him off. He smiled but it was a very quick one.
"Get out of town, get back to your family, now!"
Alansen could only nod and he picked up Estee before setting into a sprint. He looked behind and saw the forces of House Ryland form up to charge into the streets again, the young man among them. He wanted to help them, but he knew he could not.
He ran for the exit of the city. Fire had spread and the smoke rose high. Undead roamed the streets and he watched how the garrison were quickly overrun by the undead masses. He watched how every fallen soldier, bolstered the ranks of the undead army.
He cursed at them. He would make them pay for it.
He managed to get out of the northern gate, when he tripped, barely saving Estee from hitting the ground. He looked at her, trying to make sure if she was okay. He shook his head and looked behind him and gasped again.
A large undead force had gathered, a few archers of the garrison had been raised aswell. He could see them prepare their bows. He tried to shield Estee one more time.
That's when the second miracle of the day happened.
A warhorn was sounded to the north and sounds of hooves trambling could be heard aswell as the loud warcry.
"For Lordaeron! For King Terenas!"
Lordaeron knights rode by him. Swords in hand, they crashed into the mob of undead forces. Their steeds smashed the undead beneath them, their swords cutting their heads off. Soon enough, these knights were joined by footmen, all who ran by, shielding themselves from enemy arrows, Alansen included.
He looked around shocked. Where had they all come from. He looked up and his face meet that of the Crown-Prince of Lordaeron. Prince Arthas had come to save the city of Andorhal. He took the prince's hand, he didn't listen to his words. All he cared about, was getting out of Andorhal. All he cared about, was getting his northern light to safety.
This is where Alansen woke up from the dream. He looked about, he was in Stratholme, Crusader Square. He looked around him, he was surrounded by resting crusaders. He looked at the banners, almost expecting the lordaeron blue, and sighed when he saw the Scarlet red.
He missed the old days. He missed his wife and his son. He missed his northern light. He began to rearm, when he heard a sharp voice ahead of him. He looked to see none other than Aliya Lacrimosa.
"The Grand crusader has requested our presence brother, better not keep him waiting"
With that the woman turned around not even giving the half-naked crusader another glimse. He sighed and put on the rest of his clothes, before putting on the red mail armor and plate chest armor. He picked up his two-handed sword and sighed once more.
He was back in the living world, the real world. He rushed after Aliya, whatever Dathrohan wanted was important and he knew better than to let the Grand Crusader wait.