Chapter 3: Assault on Theramore Isle
25 Haring 615
When Jaina Proudmoore had written a letter to Halford Wyrmbane—the Commander of the 7th Legion and the Supreme Commander of her forces during the Third War—asking for his help, the last thing she expected was to receive a whole tome on the political situation in Kul Tiras following the months after Tandred's death.
Daeldric had been truthful about the identity of his supporters. The old guard of Kul Tiras, her father's closest supporters and friends, and the majority of the military had indeed refused to support Alverold's candidacy for the position of the Lord Admiral. One of them, Captain-General Alexander Farnham, had even nominated Jaina as a candidate for the position of the Lord Admiral. Duke Reginald Goodwin had questioned the aging general's honour for trying to hand the throne to a kinslayer. In the duel to the first blood that followed, the Duke murdered the aging general of the army of Kul Tiras.
Alverold had tried to stop the duel but he had not outright denied his closest supporters words. Instead, he had argued that Jaina was far too removed from tirassian politics and was clearly not willing to return to Kul Tiras.
The most interesting part of the manuscript was Daeldric von Selaniir's trial. There were three items that directly connected him to the murder of the ruling family. The first was his written order to relieve the admiralsguard during the day of the attack. The second item was his back and forth letter exchange with the leader of the Defias Brotherhood on the merits of assassinating Tandred Proudmoore. Further to their conversation, every single one of the assassins had the cog tattoo of the brotherhood on their hand. Beyond that, half the nobility had used the trial to air their grievances and frustration towards their Lord Captain.
For his part, Daeldric's "defence" consisted of little more than jests and barbs. The only actual argument to defend himself was that, if he had indeed planned the execution, he would not have incriminated himself to such an extent. After he had been charged for treason, Daeldric gave them a cryptic warning about talking during his execution. Some of the nobles had laughed at the statement but the fact that his execution was delayed indefinitely implied that they feared something.
Jaina did, however, notice something truly odd. The letters lacked an element that made their content, at the very least, questionable. Calia Menethil and Emma, her daughter, were not mentioned a single time. Perhaps it had been the tears and her depression that had made her miss this oddity when Varian initially showed her the letters.
She rubbed her eyes and took a sip from her cold glass of distilled felweed, a highly addictive demonic substance that took away the exhaustion.
Jaina jumped to her feet when the window slammed open by a strong gale. The biting cold licked at her face and crept under the folds of her furred ensemble. She cast a simple warming spell but, after a momentary sigh of relief, the cold settled again. It took an extraneous effort to close the window shut and seal it with one of her spells.
How could the crisp, playful weather turn into this unnatural bitter cold?
The answer to her question came in the form of a dark, sinister presence in the distance that made her skin crawl. She gulped and peered through the window. A dark, frozen cloud was visible in the distance.
Oh, by the Light!
A dragon roared from within the cloud, the crackling sound making it clear beyond doubt that this was a wyrm of frost.
Jaina rushed for her staff but dropped to the ground in pain. She looked at her bloodied right hand, the skin on the palm that touched the metal of the frozen window had been ripped off by her sudden movement. She slammed her fist on the ground and stood up.
Ignoring the pain, Jaina put on her gloves and grabbed her staff. Using a powerful transmutation spell, she replaced her furred robes with something far more suitable for combat and rushed down the stairs.
Ysuria—her chancellor and closest confidante—was at the bottom of the tower, magically sending missives to their allies. "Jaina!" she exclaimed. "We are being attacked by-"
"Is Thrall coming to help?"
The petite high elf shook her head. "Every major Alliance and Horde city is being attacked. Northwatch Hold too. We are on our own."
"Lady Proudmore," Jaina turned towards Daeldric, he was standing on one of the wooden passageways on the upper floors. "Allow me to be of assistance."
"But-"
"I will not stand idle while humans—any humans—are being murdered by monsters," he said. "I am the best fighter on this damn island, use me."
She had her doubts about the latter statement given his reputation for leading from the distance but he had a point. Jaina turned towards Ysuria. "Take him to the armoury and ensure that the civilians are safe in the citadel."
Ysuria frowned. "Very well."
Jaina felt a bit guilty for her decision but she could not afford to lose her friend over hurt feelings. Ysuria was a good sorceress and an even better friend but she was not a capable combatant.
Colonel Lorena and her men were setting barricades across the harbour in order to stop any potential ground forces. When she noticed Jaina, she run towards her. "I hope you have a way of dealing with the frost wyrm," she said.
Now that the Scourge was closer, the only thing Jaina could see in the sky was a frost wyrm and its death knight handler on a reanimated griffon. The death knight motioned south, towards the bay of Dustwallow Marsh. The wyrm broke away and headed for the anchored fleet while the death knight headed straight for Theramore.
"Tervosh and I can deprive it of its ability to fly," Jaina replied, "but not from this distance."
The Lady of Theramore walked to one side of the harbour—where the wall ended—and placed the butt of her staff on the ground. Then, she dragged her staff to the other side of the harbour. Jaina walked behind the barricade Lorena had set up, dropped on one knee, opened her spellbook, and started chanting a rather complex spell.
When she heard the sound of a griffon swooping low and landing, Jaina open her eyes and smiled wickedly at the guest. Her smile was cut short when she noticed that the death knight was wearing a field marshal's battlegear rather than saronite armour.
"Hear me, naive children of the alliance!" the death knight growled and gazed at each and every one of the gathered soldiers. One of the soldiers fell down and puked. When his gaze met Jaina's, she felt a twist in her stomach as visions of death and destruction filled her mind.
It's just a trick Jaina, she reminded to herself as she pushed the malevolent presence out of her mind.
"This is no trick, whore of the Lich King," he laughed and walked forward, right before the line she traced with her staff. "Tremble and know your doom, for the Lich King's gaze is fixed upon you!"
A shiver run through Jaina's spine when hundreds of ghouls stepped out of the ocean and formed behind the Lich King. The screeches of the frost wyrm could be heard from the distance as it teared through the abandoned ships.
"Come and face me coward," Jaina snapped and jumped in front of the barricade.
The death knight drew his runic greatsword.
"In his defence," Daeldric said, grinning, "our friend is a mindless slave."
The Sorceress frowned at the interruption. Then, she narrowed her eyes on him when she noticed what he was wearing. She had expected to see plate armour on him but, instead, the fool had somehow found a tirassian uniform in the armoury.
Subtly, she shook her head. Let me handle this, her blue eyes said.
The death knight's eyes brightened. "Daeldric…" the voice was different; low and otherworldly.
Arthas?
"Good, good," he said, his voice normal again, "someone I wanted to kill personally."
Daeldric jumped down the barrier. "Luc Valonforth?"
The death knight charged with a roar. "Don't call me that!"
Jaina shouted a single word of command, the enchantment on the ground manifesting as a wall of fire.
Taken by surprise, the undead man stopped his charge and thrust his greatsword in the ground, a violent burst of frost exploded from his blade. The wall dissipated for a moment but was reignited a moment later, setting ablaze the few ghouls that tried to cross.
Jaina raised her hand and formed a protective shield. The wave of frost was completely blocked but the force of the blow staggered her. Someone screamed from behind. Behind her, the entire barricade had been covered a thick layer of ice but it had adequately protected the soldiers that had ducked. Then, she turned towards Daeldric's position and saw nothing.
"Over here," someone cooed in her ear.
All things considered, Jaina chuckled. "Did you really just hide behind me?"
The characteristic crashing sound of walls falling followed by the ferocious roar of a dragon was heard from the other side of the walled city; below her, the earth trembled. The western wall was completely destroyed and a dozen soldiers had been turned into frozen statues. A large number of ghouls started pouring through the breach.
The dragon was flying over the western wall when Tervosh's voice echoed throughout the island. The creature screeched and heaved when the Archmage's fireblast struck the creature's left flank. Somehow, the creature managed to maintain its flight and fly away.
"Proudmoore!" Daeldric shouted.
Jaina turned towards the Lord Captain.
Daeldric was standing on a patch of desecrated ground, skeletal hands trying to grasp him from below while he fought the death knight. "Have your men eliminate the ghouls! Assist me with Valonforth."
Although it annoyed her, his plan rung true. "Do as he says," Jaina snapped to Lorena and her men. "I will handle the Death Knight."
The death knight swung his sword in wide arc, sending a wave of frozen knifes towards his assailant. Daeldric jumped to the ground to avoid them. With his assailant interrupted, he turned towards the ghouls stuck behind the fire. "Inside!"
The ghouls responded instantly to their master's call and rushed through the fires. They howled in pain as the fire caught them ablaze but, mindless as they were, completely ignored it and kept charging.
Daeldric jumped in front of Jaina and swung his falchion—a two-handed scimitar with a wide blade curved towards the tip that made it ideal for chopping—at the creatures that tried to attack Jaina.
Then, he charged the death knight but was too slow to stop him from blowing his horn. A strong wind extinguished the flames from the Lich King's minions.
Jaina responded with another spell of her own. She slammed her staff to the ground and the ghouls toppled backwards through the fire. Daeldric and the death knight were also struck by the spell but, advanced fighters as they were, the non-lethal spell did not affect them beyond a mere stumble.
The sorceress chanted words of power and thrust her staff forward, a straight beam of pure arcane energies manifested from her staff and struck the death knight.
The death knight tried to rush at her but Daeldric blocked his path. Although the golden helmet hid his face, the death knight's dilemma was evident. Charge towards Jaina and risk dying to Daeldric's blade or ignore the beam and try to murder Daeldric before the beam burns both flesh and steel.
Daeldric did not leave him a choice. "Sir Luc Valonforth, Field Marshal of Lordaeron and knight of the Silver Hand."
The death knight charged at him. "Don't call me that!" he screamed in both pain and frustration.
"Twice decorated for his service during the Second War and for slaying Orgrim Doomhammer in Hammerfall."
"Shut up!" the undead lunged but his blade struck the air.
Daeldric knew that the death knight would be dying any moment now and simply started moving around the target; far enough to easily avoid the runic sword but close enough to charge in case the death knight tried to cast a spell or attack Jaina.
"Sacrificed himself during the expedition at Northrend to give the world a fighting chance."
"And you failed us all!" the Lich King's agent cried out and dropped to the ground. Jaina hesitated when she heard the pleading cry of the death knight.
"This small victory will avail you nothing!" the voice was dark and sinister again. "Come! Come to Northrend. My minions are waiting, and they are hungry..."
Daeldric brought down his falchion and cut off the undead's head. "Yes," he sighed. "I tend to do that a lot lately, old friend."
Jaina walked next to him and peered in the distance for the frost wyrm. She gulped. It was heading straight for Lady Captain Rogers' fleet.
"Frost Wyrm dead ahead!"
Catherine Rogers grinned. The foolish creature had evidently taken the bait. Now it was time to put one of her crazy ideas to the test.
She looked behind her. As she expected, the rest of the fleet had built some distance with her vessel and were waiting for further instructions. A flock of aerial dragoons—skilled griffonriders equipped with pistols—were flying around the flotilla, ready to engage the wyrm should her plan turn into an epic failure. "Starboard standard rudder."
"Starboard standard rudder. Aye aye ma'am," the helmsman responded and started turning the ship twenty degrees to the starboard side. "Steady on course ma 'am!"
"Very well," she responded.
When the ship's course was set directly for the orcish capital of Orgrimmar, she said: "Steady as you go." The course was not Orgrimmar but it was a landmark that was easy to follow even during a storm.
"Steady as you go. Aye aye."
"Very well," she replied back and walked down the aftercastle of the ship and towards the other side of the ship. Waves crushed at the side of the ships and splashed water on her and across the sanded deck. Catherine grabbed her bicorn hat and sauntered towards the precision cannon at the fore. The precision gun was a relatively recent invention that allowed precision shots at nearly any angle while not requiring a fuse.
The wyrm was only a minute away before she removed her spyglass from her pocked and peered through. "All non-essential personnel, clear the deck," she snapped.
That particular command generally did not include the sailor atop the crow's nest but the crew had been briefed correctly. Only Catherine, the helmsman, two riggers, and the three fellas at the precision gun remained on the deck.
The storm made her job extremely hard, so hard in fact that even Daelin Proudmoore would fail at the task at hand. But she was not him. Catherine took note of the current angle of the gun. She smiled at the gun officer, his calculations had been almost correct.
"Five degrees port and two degrees upward angle," she corrected. "Fire on my command."
Timing was everything, not only did she have to take into account the frost wyrm's position and relative speed but also the way the ship heaved and swayed by the crashing waves.
The wyrm opened its jaws and prepared one of its breaths of frost.
"Ma'am?" one of the enlisted sailors asked.
"Shut your mouth!" the gun officer snapped.
Catherine raised her hand and waited. The frost breath was almost on them when she gave the signal. "Fire!"
When she heard the deafening sound of cannon fire, she grabbed one of the sailors and jumped with him off the aftercastle.
The frost wyrm roared in pain as the exploding round shattered the bones that held its right wing to its body. It crashed at the top of the aftercastle and fell into the ocean.
Catherine jumped to her feet and looked for the other two members of the gun crew. The officer—whom had his wits about him and jumped off the aftercastle—shook his head at her. She nodded back at him and examined the damage on the ship. The castle had been extensively damage but it would not hinder their course towards Theramore.
The frost wyrm screeched in desperation as it struggled to fly away with only a single clipped wing left. It was both funny and depressing how the dragon, perhaps by mere instincts from when it was alive, tried to keep its head out of the water. The creature was silenced by the full brunt of the three-decker's broadside fire.
Daeldric whistled triumphantly.
"Am I supposed to take your whistling as admission of her superiority?"
"What? I admit to no such thing!" Daeldric replied in mock offense. "Merely amazed that our latest invention passed its field trial with flying colours."
Jaina chocked at that. "You are joking right?"
"And that is your answer to why I was the Lord Captain instead of Catherine. She might be a maritime prodigy but her crazy ideas need to be kept in check."
Growing in a military society—even though she did not personally abide to it—Jaina could not doubt the merits of the above logic. "What would you have done?"
"Honestly?" he asked. Jaina nodded in response. "Most likely would have let you get slaughtered by the wyrm."
Jaina was glad that her cowl completely shadowed her saddened face. She was not sure why but his answer had felt like a stab to the heart.
"I am who I am, my Lady. I would gladly lay my life for a tirassian civilian but… not for anyone on this island," he smiled, "not yet anyway."
Jaina bit her lips, trying to steer the conversation towards something else. "You were at Northrend with Arthas?"
Daeldric sighed. "His Grace thought that it was my best chance to regain my honour if I assisted the Prince."
Jaina had not cared about the story at the time but, according to Tandred, Arthas was in some way responsible for Daeldric's excommunication from the paladin order. Proving his worth to the future King of Lordaeron and Grandmaster of the Silver Hand would benefit him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Shaking his head, Daeldric knelt in front of the death knight's corpse and pulled something from the body's neck. It was a woman's talisman, a memento from a lover or a wife.
"It belonged to his pregnant wife," he explained. "She died when the orcs escaped from their internment camps in Stromgarde."
Jaina placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What are you going to do with it?"
"I'll bury it at the Hall of the Grand Champions in Kul Tiras."
No you won't, Jaina thought. With the accusations against him, Daeldric's presence would never be allowed to "taint" the resting place of the dead.
"We can bury him here if you want," she replied. "It's not as grand as the Hall but..."
Daeldric stood up and smiled. "Much appreciated."
Jaina saw Lorena approaching. "It would be best if you return to your quarters, my Lord."
The tall man turned around to leave.
"Daeldric…" she whispered. "Thank you."
Daeldric glanced towards her and nodded before walking away.
"He's just trying to save his own skin, Jaina," Lorena said.
I'm not so sure anymore, Jaina thought but she did not say that. "I know."
A/N: I apologize to anyone that is more familiar with naval terminology but I did my best. From this point onwards, I will be aiming for approximately 3000 word chapters and weekly updates. Next chapter will be mostly romance focused.
Guest: It will mostly follow the story of WotlK (in my own way, of course) but it will not include the non-Lich King plots of Malygos/Ulduar. Beyond WotlK, we shall see.
Kantan: I have tried to abide to medieval morals as much as I can/know both in term of the OC's code of conduct (without it being "universally" good like Jaina) and the general plot.