One week later, the company approaches Hearthglen.
As with many points of interest in eastern and northeast Lordaeron, Jaina had not visited Hearthglen before. After an alarming - although at this point unsurprising - string of ghost settlements, skirmishes and casualties, she derived some small comfort from the fact that this was clearly the most populated and fortified location she had visited on this disaster of an assignment. The sizable area between tree-line and gate was deserted, but upon closer approach there was both ample sound and sight of defenders that were very much alive.
"Hearthglen, finally," Arthas muttered under his breath. Or thought as much, at least.
Jaina attempted to coax some slight humility from him. "I could use some rest," she spoke, wryly. As expected, all this elicited was a noncommittal grunt.
"We all could use some rest." Falric stated, pointedly. This likewise prompted no response, other than what looked to be a glare in the direction of the Captain.
As they neared the gatehouse, Arthas noticed what had likely already been apparent to the rest of them. "It looks like they're preparing for battle."
"Indeed," Falric agreed, doubtless to humor him. She merely nodded.
"Who comes?" challenged a man in the familiar Captain's armor. He was flanked by numerous archers at-ease.
"Arthas, Prince of Lordaeron!" called the paladin. He left the title hanging, likely expecting an obeisant response. When none came, he deigned to add, "and my company. We have urgent information that must be shared, open the gate!"
The captain did not reply for a moment, giving what she imagined was an appraising look. "Very well," he turned around and addressed his fellows, "open the gate."
With the customary creak of hinges, the gate began to open. Arthas pushed through the moment it was possible, the rest of them following at a slightly more measured-pace. Beyond, they found themselves in a sizable cleared space that ran the visible perimeter of the wall. The standard streets, homes, utility and business structures began opposite. A second wall occupied an elevated upper tier. Unusually, a number of trees were also visible throughout the base level. A pleasant sight.
Many soldiers occupied the near interior, all of them actively drilling. Along with a number of civilians, mostly in support capacities, it seemed. They had certainly drawn some eyes amongst the latter, but most of the former were disciplined enough to remain focused. Jaina respected that, though she doubted very much that Arthas was pleased with the lack of emphatic welcome.
The Captain approached alone, snapping off the customary military salute. "Welcome, Prince Arthas. And your companions."
Arthas had immediately stiffened at the greeting. Customary etiquette amongst many societies dictated a respectful bow when greeting members of assorted royal-houses. Jaina doubted very much that the man had deliberately slighted, and she believed that people in positions such as theirs should have the humility to shrug-off such lapses. Obviously, the egomaniacal Arthas Menethil had never possessed such a trait.
He released an exasperated-breath, then motioned to his right, "Captain Falric, of the King's Guard." Said veteran respectfully returned the salute, while Arthas indicated herself, "and Lady-"
"Jaina Proudmoore, of the Kirin Tor." she cut him off, deriving some - perhaps petty - amusement at the visible annoyance that followed.
He pushed ahead, with frustration. "Well, we have come with an urgent warning. This may be difficult to believe, but-"
"The living dead, we know," the man interjected, visibly troubled. "Before the last few days, every soul in Hearthglen might have had some trouble believing it. Even from one such as yourself, Prince. But this new, nightmarish reality has struck hard."
Arthas had clearly seethed at the interruption, but his wounded pride seemed slightly assuaged by the subsequent respect. "What's the situation, soldier?"
"They are coming for us, highness. The dead were first encountered some days ago, to the west. Appeared from the wilderness without warning, 'almost as if from the twisting nether,' survivors said. Since then, they have swept eastward, destroying every inhabited-area in their path. We have done what we could to slow them, and given sanctuary to those of our people that could be saved. I fear it will be to no avail, the enemy will arrive shortly."
"How many? And how soon?" Arthas demanded.
"An army, and by nightfall at latest."
Arthas swore loudly. Jaina seized the opportunity to assert herself, "what is the status of the defenses?"
The officer seemed relieved at the opportunity to share information with someone other than Arthas. "Hearthglen is considerably more formidable than any of the settlements they have consumed, milady. But even if the dead prove incapable of storming us, a protracted siege is seldom ideal, let alone against foes that do not appear to require sustenance. Furthermore, we are taxed beyond capacity by the numbers we have taken in. And a sally is out of the question, given the multitude of our enemy."
"Not particularly encouraging," she muttered to herself. "Perhaps it would be best to evacuate, as you have doubtless considered."
"What?" Arthas exclaimed, oddly aghast. "Out of the question!"
Her eyes narrowed at his vehemence, "and why is that?"
"Take our chances fleeing the dead exposed? Rather than remain secure and make a stand within this fortress? I think not."
"Is that so? What if they do, in fact, encircle Hearthglen and wait us out?" She asked, anticipating his reply.
"We have seen nothing to indicate that they possess any such strategic ability."
"Arthas," Jaina shook her head. "You yourself witnessed a coordinated three-pronged assault upon Andorhal not so very long ago."
"Under the dominion of a major figure in this insurrection. A foe that lies dead by my hand. We have little reason to believe the imminent force possesses comparable leadership." he stated, confidently.
"You have no evidence of that!" Jaina retorted, sharply. "The population of Hearthglen could likely prepare, depart and still gain a substantial lead on the undead before they arrive. Perhaps even outpace them altogether."
Arthas sighed, "what would you have us do, Jaina? Retreat until we hit the eastern coast and can go no further?"
"We both know that I implied nothing of the sort. There should be ample military-presence between here and Stratholme, as you should be aware. We might regroup, meet our enemy from a position of greater strength while biding time for Uther to strike from the rear. Many lives might be spared and enemy reinforcements simultaneously denied. Surely that is worth consideration?"
Unfortunately, she may have unwittingly lost him upon mention of his mentor. Not that she would have censored herself, regardless. The face of Arthas hardened, "this is my kingdom, Jaina. I will not allow it to collapse. My people will notbecome paupers, driven from their homes. Lives in ruin."
Jaina raised a brow. "As I understand it, Lordaeron is ruled by your father. Not yourself."
"Where is he, then?" Arthas snarled. "Where is King Terenas? Reclining upon his marble throne and dallying with dignitaries by day, retiring to silken sheets at night! While I strive to protect our people on the frontlines, against the worst threat we have ever faced!"
"Prince Arthas..." Falric stated, warningly.
Arthas turned towards the guard, doubtless to attempt a rebuke, only to be distracted by something. He instead addressed the captain - who had clearly wished to be anywhere else throughout the exchange - while pointing at something behind him, "wait, what did those crates contain?"
They followed the gesture, to what they had feared may have made it this far. Her blood chilled, regardless.
The unwitting officer shrugged, "just a grain shipment from Andorhal, highness."
"When did it arrive?" Arthas demanded
"Yesterday. Is something wrong?" The man was clearly confused and cautious.
"It's been distributed. We were too late..." Arthas spoke aloud, to no one in particular. "Captain, I need you to round up anyone that has come into contact with that grain. Immediately!"
"My Prince, that will take time and we have little-"
"This takes precedence. Begin with those that made the delivery if possible. Now!"
The captain was clearly confused, but nodded dutifully. He made to respond... and the screams started. Every neck in the near vicinity may have experienced small whiplash from immediate fixation towards the nearest source. Numerous civilians in the area, along with several soldiers, had dropped to the ground, thrashing and screaming in agony, then stilling.
"Oh, no. Defend yourselves!" shouted Arthas, redundantly perhaps. Thankfully, the corpses shakily attempting to climb to their feet found themselves in the midst of a greater number of heavily armed and armored soldiers. Though the warriors were understandably alarmed, discipline asserted itself, and they dispatched the undead in short order, before her party could even join battle. Fortunate, as using her powers with such a high risk of friendly fire was unacceptable.
"Thank the light," Arthas sighed, reigning in his horse at their fore. And then similar cries resounded throughout Hearthglen. "Seriously? To arms!" The paladin raised his hammer, and they joined the press of troops in the hunt.
Some time later, Jaina, Arthas, Falric and the captain swiftly approached Mardenholde Keep on foot, in search of its Lord.
"Lord Fordring should be within the walls," the local frowned. "I hope no ill has befallen him."
"I think we all agree. But he does have quite a formidable reputation," Jaina replied.
"I suppose that is one way of looking at it." Arthas had a standoffish, cold manner. What is it this time?
Her thoughts were interrupted by numerous heavy hoof-falls, heralding the arrival of numerous mounted warriors. They were led by a tall, dark haired man that immediately raised a free hand, his followers pulling smoothly to a halt. The rider sternly appraised them for a moment, before relaxing, a genuine smile overtaking his features. "Prince Arthas." He motioned behind, and a soldier nudged his mount forward to accept the reins and bloodied hand-and-a-half sword proffered. The leader skillfully made an armored dismount and walked towards them.
Surprisingly, Arthas mirrored the friendly affectation. He stepped forward, clasping the forearm of the newcomer. "Well met, Taelan. It's good to see you." This was Taelan Fordring, then. Son of Tyrion and likewise a paladin. Jaina was not surprised to find him here.
"Likewise, friend." Taelan sobered somewhat, "would it were under better circumstances." He sighed, then turned towards her, "whom do I address?"
"Jaina Proudmoore, of the Kirin Tor." She took a step towards him and extended a hand.
His gaze flicked once between Arthas and herself. Taelan gave no indication of his thoughts, however, accepting the shake. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Proudmoore. Welcome to Hearthglen." He then offered the same gesture to the third companion, "good to see you again, Captain Falric." That man inclined his head slightly while taking the hand.
"Thank you, sir Taelan. Jaina will suffice." She had not failed to observe Arthas permitting less than full obeisance from this evident past comrade. This did surprise her. "We seek Highlord Tyrion..."
"Then I fear I must disappoint you, Jaina." he began, face and words regretful. "My father traveled south weeks-past, before the plague struck. I have held his seat since."
Jaina struggled to contain her exasperation. Once more, she had hoped to turn to a legendary paladin for aid, only to be similarly rebuffed. Inadvertently, perhaps, but stymied nonetheless. Taelan seemed capable enough - more so than Arthas, at any rate - but she doubted he was the equal of his father. "I am sorry to hear that. We come in dire need of allies."
The Lord gave a wry smile, "I suppose I will have to do, then. He was not expected back for quite some time. I do not doubt that he is attempting to return, but we have received no communication as to his movements."
"If I may, why did he depart?" The mage couldn't help a little curiosity, as usual.
"The Silver Hand has been invited to extend membership to our dwarven allies. My father left for Khaz Modan, to helm recruitment and instruction efforts.
"What? Why wasn't I- weren't the rest of us informed?" Arthas demanded.
Taelan tilted his head curiously, then shrugged. "I don't think this resolution was any great secret. The Highlords were unanimous in favor and It was guilelessly assumed that our order would follow suit. It is a worthy cause, after all. Perhaps the subject seldom came up in conversation beyond the select few involved. For all I know, most of our brothers and sisters might be unaware of this endeavor, merely out of happenstance."
"Does it really matter?" Jaina asked, somewhat irritated.
Arthas struggled to frame his pettiness. "They shouldn't have kept us in the dark," he settled for.
"We are wasting time, Arthas."
He made to retort, only for Falric to intercede. "Perhaps this discussion should be taken indoors. Taelan?"
That paladin nodded and addressed the officer in attendance, "Captain, hold the fort, we shouldn't be long." At the answering nod, Taelan reclaimed his blade, washed it in a nearby fountain, and led them into Mardenholde Keep.
Within one of the first rooms, the three briefed their host on recent developments.
"A coven of renegade mages, determined to rule over a bloated, reanimated husk of Lordaeron." Taelan shook his head. "Magic was entirely responsible for the undead, that should be readily apparent to any. I suppose the extent of this conspiracy is not a complete surprise, though certainly horrifying. Worse still, there seems to be a genuine risk of their success."
"We will stop them yet, old friend," insisted Arthas.
The first nodded, clearly uncertain. "I hope so, Prince."
"Needless to say, you are far more aware of events in this region than ourselves, Taelan." Jaina said. "What more can you tell us of enemy activities? Is this army a ravening mass of mindless corpses, or is there evidence of calculation behind their movements?"
He pondered for a moment. "Thus far, it appears to resemble the former rather than the latter."
"As I said." Arthas gave a satisfied nod.
"That may yet prove mere conjecture," she maintained, with frustration.
Taelan scratched his beard. "Falric," he turned towards the veteran. "You have likely seen more combat than the three of us combined, by a substantial margin. What would you advise?"
Falric almost certainly noticed the poorly-concealed bristling Arthas displayed at the entirely unassuming and accurate statement, along with the following question. Fortunately, he brushed it off, "our knowledge of the scourge is woefully incomplete. They have sent both risen corpses and flesh-golems against us thus far, and may well have other dark-magic fueled creations not yet encountered. Arguably worse, I would say, are the collaborators. We know they have infiltrated the citizenry, likely the military and government as well to some degree. I would be surprised if they do not have agents in Hearthglen, plotting our undoing.
"We have no way of knowing the extent of this conspiracy at the moment. Perhaps more dangerous still, we know almost nothing of the leadership structure of the cult of the damned itself. It seems safe to assume that Kel'Thuzad was a notable figure, but what others might there be? The only two we are aware of at all are this 'Dreadlord Mal'Ganis' and 'Ner'zhul' - and we know little of them beyond the names themselves.
"The scourge are due to arrive at dusk, at the latest. If they are a directionless mass, they will attack immediately. This may also happen if they are guided. However, we can be certain that if the dead delay an assault until darkness has fully fallen, there is an attempt at coordination and calculation. At the behest of one or more sorcerers, no less, arguably the greatest threat to us at this time. On that note, could they have compromised Dalaran?" Falric addressed her.
Jaina shook her head, "a fair question, but unlikely. I would not rule out the presence of rats - in fact, I think it all but certain at this point - but there are numerous measures in place to prevent such a hostile takeover."
"I am relieved to hear that. Taelan, what can you tell us of the disposition of enemy forces?"
"We face an army." he looked down for a moment before meeting their eyes once more. "Only risen corpses and those constructs thus far, but too many to face in the field. Even with our unexpected reinforcements." The lord gave a small, genuine smile.
"If that is all they have, the scourge will break itself upon our defenses." Arthas brashly replied.
She made to caution his foolishness, only for Falric to respond. "One can only hope." The captain mused for a moment. "I suspect that they will only strike us immediately should they be a mindless mass. If guided, the dead will delay until darkness fully descends and encircle the walls, then begin their attack in earnest."
"Why would they not lay a more prolonged siege?" asked Arthas, perhaps confused.
"Contrary to at times popular belief, waiting for lack of resources to take their toll can be a significant risk for besiegers. Such a tactic can leave an army vulnerable to a flanking assault themselves. Smashed against the fortifications, hammer and anvil, as it were. The scourge is no exception. Incidentally, this is precisely the action we should attempt."
"How would you propose we do so?" Jaina thought she had some notion of his intentions.
"If the message you dispatched for Highlord Uther reached him, he has likely been leading his army in our general footsteps with all haste, en route to Stratholme. Including - but not limited to - a formidable, mobile vanguard. There would be a reasonable probability that he is relatively close to our position, in fact. And the longer the siege drags on, the more time Uther has to reach us."
"How can you be sure of that, Falric?" Arthas was attempting an air of nonchalance, and failing. Clearly still resenting any reliance upon him, or any other, necessity notwithstanding. Ridiculous.
"I am not. Which is why we should attempt to make contact." Falric turned toward Taelan, "are there any gryphons available?"
The lord shook his head, apologetically. "I sent them out to seek aid, none have yet returned. It may be premature to assume they have been waylaid, but I am uncertain that a sufficient force could have been mustered in time and within a suitable distance regardless."
"That is unfortunate," the guardsman frowned.
"Perhaps our mage might do us yet another service here..." Arthas posed, all eyes then moving in her direction.
Jaina had reached that conclusion after Taelan's admission. Unfortunately, she was not entirely certain how best to address the scenario herself. The sorceress sighed, "I have told you before, Arthas. Teleportation has limits and risks. While I can accept the latter, I am more concerned that I would not actually succeed in locating Uther and waste valuable time searching."
"You have used plenty of short-ranged teleportation spells over the course of our quest. Surely they would be of some assistance?"
"I am aware of the prospect and would likely opt for that approach. However, such an effort would quite possibly negate any role I might play in the battle for a considerable amount of time. And as much as I would wish otherwise, I am the most effective weapon we possess."
She had of course intended no slight, which most adults should have realized. As anticipated, Arthas did not. His eyes flashed, "our people emerged victorious on battlefields long before the study of the arcane began!"
The sorceress raised a brow. "Or the light, for that matter. But such is irrelevant. We must save as many of 'our people' as we can, Arthas. Pride should not factor."
Face flushed. Arthas opened his mouth to respond, only for Falric to intercede. "We must indeed, mage Proudmoore. To that end, perhaps you could perform both services. As I recall, you referenced the use of a spell-work by Kel'thuzad for rapid transportation to a specific location...?"
I should have considered that already... she thought, glumly. "Possibly. I am not particularly familiar with such magic, but it might be done."
The warrior nodded, "you could search for a time. If help cannot be found, return and aid us. We will do our part."
Jaina nodded, turning to their host. "I could use a relatively secure location to place the runes. And the fastest horse you can provide."
Taelan smiled, spirits seeming to lift. "You shall have both at once."
"Keep this in mind, however. Any power used - arcane or otherwise - takes a toll, as each of you should be fully aware. Should I expend too much of my own in the search, I may be left temporarily weakened and of less use in battle upon returning. Or even exhausted enough that I am unable to send myself back at all, for a time."
Only a little later, Jaina stood with the others just inside the gate, watching a stablehand leading the new horse forward. It did indeed appear to be a fine specimen, in good health and well rested. She took the reins and stroked its neck.
"The scourge may have occupied the road between any prospective allies and ourselves. If that is the case, do you think you can bypass or break through them?" Taelan asked.
"I will doubtless find out soon enough." Jaina replied. She glanced at each of her allies in turn and offered what she hoped was a friendly, somewhat confident expression. "Success or failure, I will attempt to return as soon as possible. Stay as safe as you can, and may the light be with you." Such benediction was not part of her customary vernacular - a habit mirrored by numerous arcane practitioners - but she knew that even the slightest morale-boost would not go amiss in the coming hours.
"And with you," all returned. Arthas quietest, almost seeming reluctant. Jaina suppressed a frown with difficulty. Was that a reflection on herself, or declining faith in the light in general? The years since their relationship ended had steadily-sapped her investment in a renewal of that dynamic. His behavior since they were reunited by duty had near instantly compounded that sentiment. Or, perhaps more aptly, frozen it solid.
Despite that, Jaina found that she did not particularly desire Arthas to view her in a negative light. But the thought that he might be losing faith in something that had appeared so significant a part of his life troubled her more, for some reason. She buried that thought, it was no concern of hers.
Without a further word, the mage climbed into the saddle and spurred her horse, cantering through the gate. Time was running.
Arthas remained stiff and soundless until the gate closed, vision fixed. Stance rooted by conflicting thoughts.
He loved Jaina, that had hardly changed. Yet, she made it difficult. Rebuffed him, arrogantly questioned his actions and conviction! Arthas had thought they only needed to pursue their own paths in isolation, for a time. But he had never doubted that they would intertwine once more. That she would join him, claim her rightful place as his Queen-Consort. For a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt and grudgingly acknowledged that perhaps the decision to part ways had been a mistake.
"We should return to the keep, Prince. We have a battle to win!" Taelan grinned, clearly more hopeful than he had been before his arrival.
Normally, Arthas might reasonably object to such a distraction while clearly in deep musings. But his old apprentice-paladin comrade was an exception, and the Prince couldn't deny that his spirit was lifted a little. Jaina would come around, as she should. He nodded, striding towards the keep and trusting the others to fall into step behind.
As they entered the building, Arthas was surprised by Falric. "A word, Prince Arthas." he motioned towards the same room in which they had recently held council. "We will not be long, Lord Taelan."
His old friend raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "I will be in the great hall ahead, and have a light supper brought. I think we could all use it, for what is to come."
Arthas couldn't argue with that sentiment. While not particularly pleased at the interruption, he followed his Guard-Captain, who closed the door behind them. "What is it, Falric?"
The veteran rounded on him, stern faced, eyes grey-steel. "I and others have indulged you long enough, Arthas. The conduct you have displayed for the near-entirety of your command has been dubious at best and unfit for a member of the military, Silver Hand, and royalty at worst."
The Prince was stunned for a moment. Staggered, more like. Eyes widened, jaw lowered. Then, righteous rage filled him. "How dare you-"
"Because few would and more must. And through addressing you in private, I both show respect and observe protocol. Not that I expect any gratitude."
"Protocol? I am not only your commanding officer, I am your Prince! I could have you flogged!"
Falric appeared unimpressed. "The only reason you are my commanding officer - or one at all - is because you are a Prince. This is unfortunate, because King Terenas believed you fit for such a task and had no intention of nepotism. He set you on this path because he believes in you."
"He 'set me on this path' to put me in my place!" Arthas snarled.
"No. He wanted you to earn it. You grew up in a time of peace and plenty. An Azeroth that your father fought to shape, to give you the life of privilege and security you have so benefited from." Falric shook his head, "and you have the audacity to slander him. In public, no less. Express whatever disdain you must in your own thoughts, but do not presume to show the King such flagrant contempt amongst the ranks. Frankly, that merits a flogging."
"A Prince cannot be flogged." stated Arthas, dismissively.
"On the contrary. While a member of the Lordaeron military, anyone of superior rank would be within their right to do so, however much that might wound your pride. There are a number of such individuals." countered Falric.
"Then which of them would dare commit such disrespect?" the Prince growled.
"Few, perhaps. Out of respect for your father, not yourself. Although I am certain that any would be more than willing to have you muck out the stables, at least."
"I don't believe you!" inwardly, Arthas wasn't so sure. "They know their place."
"'Their place,' is precisely why they would do so." The patronizing note in Falric's voice only served to further aggravate Arthas. "Every one of those individuals earned their position through blood, sweat and tears. All of them know better than to allow a soldier under their command such unreasonable favor."
"I am no mere soldier, and I would never submit to such disgraceful treatment!"
"Then they would have little choice but to suspend you from service. And your father would be forced to agree, leaving you in that very disgrace you so fear. Before the eyes of the nation, no less." Falric steadily replied.
His mouth opened, and worked soundlessly for a moment as he struggled to respond, caught between rage and fear. Arthas had to settle for indignation, "since when does a King kowtow before his subjects?"
"Even a ruler has duties. Lordaeron would not have lasted as long as it has were it ruled by tyrants, able to routinely enforce their will upon society at whim. A monarch exists to protect and serve the people, not the opposite. You have proven that you are far from ready for such responsibilities."
Once more, Arthas was left speechless. Only for a moment. "Who do you think you are, guard? I am Crown Prince of Lordaeron!"
Falric merely raised a brow. "As you doubtless remember, your father has yet to name a successor." he stated. "There are other candidates that may prove more suitable."
"Who? Calia?" scoffed Arthas. "She lacks the resolve to lead. The will to make the hard decisions a ruler must! And the nation knows it. I am Crown Prince in all but name!"
"You may find the people are less convinced than you believe. And you know little of hard decisions yourself, in any case. Furthermore, if your pride demands that you state your title to every soul we encounter, you are no true Prince. Not yet."
"You forget yourself, Falric." the Prince's face reddened with fury. "I should demote you for this insubordination!"
"Perhaps you should familiarize yourself with that term again." the Captain refused to give an inch. "Indeed, you could demote me. You could not, however, prevent me from recommending to Highlord Uther that yourself be demoted in turn. Even sent back to the capital. That would hardly improve your public perception."
"Is that a threat?" managed Arthas, struggling to bury the shock and slight dread he felt.
"Not at all. Call it a warning, if you must. As with all of the Kingsguard, I would give my life for you or any member of the royal line. Perhaps that duty may instead come to mean protecting you from yourself."
"That is not your decision to make!" the Prince attempted to master himself.
"I would not be making the decision. But I would be well within my legal and moral right to pass on such counsel to the Highlord." Falric responded calmly.
Arthas sensed that the Captain would not budge on that note, and changed tactics. "Uther wouldn't have the spine."
Falric seemed genuinely taken aback at that, finally. "Listen to yourself," he shook his head. "Uther is a foundational member of the Silver Hand, which you have even more cause to respect than most. He is also amongst the most powerful light-wielders of the continent, as you must acknowledge. A war hero. You will be hard-pressed to rival his abilities and achievements in your life. On top of all this, he is your own mentor. Yet you treat him with such disrespect... Uther believes in you every bit as much as your father, does that mean nothing?"
"If that is the case, then he hardly believes in me at all."
"Both believe in you to a fault, Arthas." the Captain now appeared to be reining in his own frustration. "Why do you think Uther gave you command of Strahnbrad? Appointed you to helm an important investigation? There were any number of more qualified combatants to assume both roles." Arthas made for a justly furious retort, only for Falric to cut him off again, "Arthas, this cannot be contested. Even you must accept that fact. Uther assigned a squadron of veterans due to the gravity of the situation. But it should be readily-apparent that he also hoped that they would assist you in proving yourself. That you would listen, learn and in turn lead."
If Falric thought that would placate Arthas, he was sorely mistaken. "So Uther thought I was incapable? Unproven?" he snarled.
"Don't twist my words, or Uther's intentions. He only wished the very best for you. Quite frankly, you were unproven. And for the most part, remain so."
Once more, that was very much the wrong thing to say. "Are you blind? Ignorant of the crisis we now face? One that I am carrying us through!" Arthas struggled to restrain the volume of his voice.
His adversary's face hardened. "Under your leadership, we have all but blundered from danger to danger, Arthas. You were in the right place at the right time at Strahnbrad. This is not necessarily a criticism. Indeed, one might argue that such has been true in many cases throughout history. However, since then you may very well have led us to the abyss, were it not for our mage. Jaina has been bailing us out poorly-executed encounters that would otherwise have incurred significantly greater casualties, or outright defeat. As useful as her abilities have been, the fact that we have been forced to rely upon them as a crutch is hazardous. You should know this."
"And just which encounters are you referring to?" Arthas could not help a small kernel of doubt.
"The most notable of a number, then. Are you aware of what Jaina was doing during the battle for Andorhal?" asked the Captain.
"Attempting to support us from the ramparts, of course. Anyone could tell that," the Prince brushed off the redundant question.
"Perhaps you were not informed then that she was also destroying the significant number of undead that emerged from the forest to flank us."
What? Arthas was involuntarily speechless.
"A possibility that you didn't even consider when you placed us in that vulnerable position." Falric finished, pointedly.
"And what of Kel'thuzad?" Arthas shot back. "A deadly foe and major figure in the Scourge hierarchy, vanquished by my hand!"
Evidently Falric had anticipated this. "Yes, the necromancer. A new breed of powerful, rogue sorcerer. You abandoned your troops in the heat of battle to pursue a particularly dangerous opponent, entirely unsupported. It is a miracle that you survived! I questioned Jaina on the matter and she gave you credit. Downplaying, I suspect, her own involvement and blind fortune. Thank the light for both. Marwyn died defending you and I would do the same without hesitation, as is our duty. Should it become necessary, yours is to make such a sacrifice meaningful."
Despite himself, Arthas was touched ever so slightly. Both by Jaina's reaffirmed loyalty and even that of Falric, in his misguided way. He remained silent for a moment, which he swiftly came to regret as the guard continued.
"And not merely Marwyn's. I and others overheard your argument with Jaina, that first day. Everything she said was true, both in terms of your personal behavior and leadership at large. You have run your soldiers ragged, seemingly with little remorse. Be assured, they are becoming disillusioned."
"Then why have I not seen a hint of disloyalty?" snapped Arthas.
"Because all of them are professionals. Moreover, they are loyal to the realm, not to you. Even the most steadfast, genuine allegiance can be tested. Your command has been more akin to that of a brutal-taskmaster than a Prince striving to prove his worth to his people. You have not earned their respect: your leadership has been carried by your lineage alone. That is a dangerous foundation at best, let alone when facing a threat all but entirely unknown."
"That's idealistic, for a veteran of so many battles with as much human blood on your hands as orc. Everything I have done or will do is for my people, for Lordaeron! And you are a hypocrite if you think otherwise." Let him chew on that, Arthas thought furiously.
Unfortunately, Falric was undeterred. "There is a time and place for ruthlessness and hard choices. We have not been driven to such an extent yet, and the poor leadership you have demonstrated is actively detrimental to our cause. Every one of your company would give their life for our nation. But even if the shedding of our blood becomes necessary, there is no excuse for needlessly mistreating those in your charge.
"Despite ostensibly possessing less of a military background than any other of the company, Jaina Proudmoore has demonstrated greater affinity for such matters than yourself. While showing greater respect to your people and earning more from them in turn. All this from one who is not even a citizen of Lordaeron. If forced to choose between the two of you, many would opt for her. Perhaps even most."
The Prince's gauntlet curled into a fist, his body all but shaking with rage. "Jaina has never faced a burden of command such as mine! And any insubordination would be treason!"
"Perhaps so, yet it has happened innumerable times. Your soldiers are surrounded by their brethren, and inevitably will talk. Reports of their experiences may spread increasingly far and wide before long, particularly if we are reinforced by Uther and his army. I would strongly encourage you to change their opinion. Quickly."
Arthas tamped down his anger, just a little. "And how, in your boundless wisdom, would you recommend that I do so?" he spoke through gritted teeth.
"We have a hard battle ahead of us," Falric answered. "While your own reputation should not ever be a priority, if we do survive and prevail an improved image will likely take care of itself."
Arthas watched him for a moment, no less frustrated. "I've waited long enough. I won't forget this conversation, Captain."
Falric opened his mouth as Arthas turned to leave, "If I passed such a referral to Uther, how would you respond?"
Face cold, Arthas bent his gaze on his opponent. "I am not going anywhere. I will not abandon my people, even if I must fight this war alone!"
The Captain gave him what appeared to be a measuring look before responding, "perhaps there is hope for you yet, Prince Arthas."
The Prince did not dignify that with a reply. Merely opened the door and strode forth, his impertinent guard falling into step behind, heading towards Taelan. However impudent Falric might be, he was right on one count: Arthas had battles to win.
Splitting this mission/chapter into two, will be a more thorough criticism in the next. For now, the pattern of Jaina being nothing more than an accessory to Arthas continues, as does the lack of him displaying any relevant and requisite character flaws, even at this late hour.
Hope it was entertaining.