Chapter 2: A New Day
The light stirred Aedan from his sleep that morning as the sun barely crept up to his window. Still feeling the exhaustion from the late night with Galin, he forced himself up from his bed to begin the day's chores. As he walked towards the stairs, Aedan noticed an unusual sight, Jorab's door was still closed, usually by this time, he was already out feeding the horses. Creeping past the door and down the stairs, Aedan fixed himself a paltry breakfast of Stormwind brie and milk.
"Well since Jorab has decided to take a late day," Aedan thought, "Perhaps I can get an early start and be able to head back over to Sentinel Hill before Sir Ulric and Galin leave."
With that new surge of enthusiasm, Aedan began his daily routine, not knowing of the eyes that were watching him from the windows of his house.
Jorab watched as his son wandered about around the yard, performing the tasks that he had drilled into Aedan's head over the last sixteen years. He knew of his son's desires to venture out into the world, but could not bare to let him do something rash like join the Alliance army. Jorab walked over to a chest locked at the foot of his bed and opened it to view his battered armor from his own days as a member of the military.
"Still has some blood on it from the day of the sacking," Jorab thought grimly as his minded drifted back to that day.
"Lieutenant Alexston," yelled the Major as he shook a much younger Jorab from his day-dreams, "Stand at attention!"
"Yes sir," Jorab stammered out as the larger man approached him.
"You have been honored enough to serve in the Stormwind Keep," the Major sternly scolded, "Show a little respect for the position would you please. I need you to go on patrol around the back of the keep, so get to it soldier."
"Yes Major," Jorab said and he hurriedly rushed down the hall.
This year marked Jorab's fifth year of service in the Stormwind Guard. He had joined up right when he turned sixteen, much to his parents chagrin since only his younger brother was left to help tend the farmstead. He was awarded the post of Royal Guardsmen after his heroic service in the Redridge Mountains fending off a gnoll attack on the local town.
"Heroic, eh," Jorab thought as he patrolled the outer wall of the keep, "I guess luck is the better virtue, I was just the only one in the squad to survive the attack."
Jorab looked up at the mountain that served as the border between the Searing Gorge and Stormwind, pondering his undeserved promotion until he noticed a few figures at the top of the nearest cliffside.
"What in the Light's name is that," Jorab thought as he withdrew his eye-glass from his belt. "Are those….orcs?" he thought as realization dawned upon him. King Llane Wyrnn was still in fact in negotiations with these strange green-skinned men with tusks for teeth that rumor said emerged from another world, in fact, King Llane has a half-breed orc named Garona was with the king now. Just as Jorab began to sprint back towards the throne room of the keep, a ear-piercing scream rang out throughout the castle.
"King Llane is slain, the Horde is upon us," someone yelled as panic ensued. Jorab rushed into the throne room as the other guards attempted to make sense of the situation.
Looking back at the cliffside, Jorab saw some of the orcs lowering themselves down into the keep and the fire emerging over by the Valley of the Heroes.
"Protect Prince Varian," the Major yelled, just as the orcs poured into the throne room, "Alexston, the prince is down by Old Town, get him to the canals, we have prepared for this possibility. There are ships there which will take him to Lordaeron"
Not wasting time questioning, Jorab took off down the main hall of the keep. Looking back into the throne room, Jorab watched as the orcs overtook his commander and the rest of the royal guards. Running straight into the streets of Stormwind, Jorab could only look on in horror as the people run in terror and the city burned. Taking the street into Old Town, Jorab saw a small group of guards surrounding the prince, escorting the prince back towards the keep.
"Hold there," Jorab said, all doubt in his mind resolved, "We are to take the prince to the canals at the far end of the city, he is to be evacuated to Lordaeron along with the rest of the civilians."
A look of both confusion of fear was apparent on young Varian's face. "But what about my father," the prince asked, "we need to find him as well."
"I am sorry my prince," Jorab morbidly said, "the keep has been overrun by the orcs. You're father has fallen."
Varian opened his mouth to speak, but no words could come out. Tears silently ran down his face as the fear on his face was replaced by incredible sadness and then rage. " I will not abandon Stormwind," Varian exclaimed, his voice full of misery, "We will stand and kill ever last one of these…..animals."
"There will be a time for that my prince, but Stormwind is overrun I fear," Jorab reasoned, "Our only option is to save as many of the people as we can."
Varian's expression softened at the mention of his subjects. "Very well, sir knight," Varian said quietly, "Lead on."
The streets to the canals was thankfully not totally overrun by the Horde yet, the few stragglers they found were quickly dispatched by Jorab and the rest of the city guards. Upon reaching the make-shift harbor at the end of the canals, Jorab led the prince onto one of the small ships leaving the city. Thankfully, most of the people who had not been in the market district were evacuated.
"Well this is where we part ways my prince," Jorab said.
"But as you said, sir knight, the city is overrun," Varian said, "You will die if you stay here."
Jorab looked away from the prince, thinking about his commanders and comrades who in all likelihood lay slain in the throne room and the sacrifice they made.
"I am sorry, my prince, my place is here with my comrades," Jorab replied, "Be safe and one day reclaim our city from these brutes."
"I will, sir knight, your sacrifice will never be forgotten," Varian replied, tears of sadness for both is father and for the brave men who have died in this atrocity, "May I ask for your name, sir knight?"
"I am Jorab Alexston, my prince," Jorab replied as the Varian sailed out of the city. Looking back, orcs began to pile into the evacuation area.
"I guess this is my last stand," Jorab contemplated as he and the rest of the guards prepared, "I will do them all proud."
Jorab only survived the day because luckily they were located close to the stockade, the cities' prison and had managed to barricade themselves into a narrow passage, bottlenecking all possible assaults Jorab grimaced as he thought of that harrowing experience. For two days, with nearly no rest, he and ten other guards held off the orc attacks. Luckily, at the end of the second day, Jorab and the two surviving guards managed to find a passage leading into the sewers of the city, sparing them a gruesome death at the hands of the demonic Horde.
The Second War had taken its toll on Jorab, that was for certain. Upon surviving the sacking of Stormwind, Jorab returned to Westfall, hoping that the Horde had not yet set its eyes upon the farming land. Unfortunately, it seems that was too much for hope for. Jorab returned to the farmstead to find it ransacked and his entire family slaughtered. He can still remember his screams upon discovering what remained of their unrecognizable bodies. Gryan Stoutmantle and the few other resistance fighters found him in his house, cradling the mutilated body of his brother a few days later. Jorab joined the resistance, his days as a guard and as a farmer over, back then, his only goal in life was the unconditional slaughter of every orc they found.
By the end of the Second War, Jorab was infamous as a warrior across Westfall. With the retaking of Stormwind, he found himself questioning his very humanity with the enemy he had obsessed over for so long finally defeated. With no words said to Gryan or the rest of the former Westfall resistance, Jorab hung up his battered blade and rebuilt his farmstead, trying to forget all of the vial deeds that both he and the Horde had committed.
Jorab knew that eventually Aedan would leave, there was no stopping the inevitability of it. He was not destined to be a farmer, Jorab knew of the boy's strength.
"I suppose it is time to stop coddling the boy then," Jorab thought with newfound resolve, "I will teach the boy to strong, I will fulfill that promise." Turning towards his chest, Jorab left the window began to prepare.
"Well it looks like that's everything," Aedan thought as the sweat dripped from his face, "I guess I should see if father is alright, he has never slept in so late."
Still brushing the horses in the barn, Aedan heard the door creak.
"Looks like your finally up father, guess that old age is finally catching up to you," he joked, not bothering to turn around, "By the way, I am done with all of my chores, can I head back up to Sentinel Hill?"
"No, I am afraid you won't be going anywhere today son," Jorab's voice replied, tone dead serious, "We have work to do."
Aedan, disappointed at the news, turned around and froze, shocked to see his father wearing full plated armor and hoisting a large claymore over his soldiers.