Disclaimer: Warcraft is the property of Blizzard.
Chapter 2: The March
XXX
With the threat of a Fourth War looming, nobody in Lordaeron' palace was in a joyous mood. King and Queen included - Arthas faced with the task of leading a war, Sylvanas forced to soothe her daughter about both her parents going to war...
"Why do you have to go?" asked Alleria, teary-eyed.
"We have to dear," replied Sylvanas, hugging and rubbing her daughter' back.
"B-but you will come back?" asked Alleria.
"Of course!" replied Sylvanas, half-truthful - they'd return, but wheter it would be on their feet or in a casket was unknown. "Don't feel sad - Anduin will be staying with you as well."
"Andu?" asked Alleria, a little more happier.
"..hi..." piped Anduin from the entrance. Then getting rush-hugged by Alleria.
"See, you won't be alone here!" exclaimed Sylvanas, then heard Calia asking behind the door. "Excuse me."
"So how's Alleria feeling?" asked Calia.
"As usual of a five-year old hearing her parents going to war," sighed Sylvanas, rubbing her forehead. "She's toughter luckily, also having Anduin to support her. Varian had agreed to keep Anduin here."
"Why?"
"He feels Stormwind isn't safe enough - relating to the First War and the unrests," replied Sylvanas. "As well as that he wants for Anduin to have some resemblance of a childhood, a close friend and a safe environment."
"And what you two? What will happen...if...if neither of you return?"
"We have thought about, while Alleria is next heir...we want you to be regent until she is of age," replied Sylvanas. "And later advisor."
"Me?! Why? I wasn't raised for duties of throne I-"
"-please," begged Sylvanas, holding onto Calia' form. "Arthas doesn't want his father to do it anymore. If he passes away as well...then you are her only relative kin alive."
"But, your sister?"
"She is heading to war as well, our older sister was lost to the wastes beyond the Dark Portal. She wants closure on this too," said Sylvanas. "Promise me! Promise you'll look after Alleria, if we don't come back!"
"I'll try," nodded Calia sadly. She wouldn't be her mother, yet Alleria was her niece by blood, so she'll uphold her duty.
"Thank you," replied Sylvanas, hugging the woman who had become an equal to a sister to her in these past years.
Further away, in another part of the palace, the second parent was busy speaking with his old mentor...
"Uther. I don't want you heading to war! I want you to stay here," said Arthas, suprising the wise paladin.
"What's the matter? I told you not to coddle me, boy - I can handle myself," replied Uther.
"I...I don't want...I want you to remain behind to protect my fanily!" said Arthas.
"What?"
"Uther, you are the strongest paladin I know of...and also the only one I trust well enough for this request," spoke Arthas. "If all fail, then I trust in you to hold back the Scourge. I want you to protect my father, sister and daughter, should neither me or Sylvanas return."
"But what of the kingdom itself?"
"Me and Sylvanas had discussed for my sister, Calia, to be regent until Alleria is of age," replied Arthas. "And aid her afterwards."
"You sure?"
"I can't bother my father with the burden again. Can I trust you to see this through?" asked Arthas.
"Your my king, so I must obey. As your mentor and friend, I promise to guard the Menethil bloodline to death."
"Light bless you Uther Lightbringer. Thank you," said Arthas.
XXX
Soon the time fell and the march to the Dark Portal began, which was more nerve-racking than it was long. Time was of the essence, so both of Lordaeron's and Quel'Thalas' armies were planned of being portaled to Dalaran, then a five-hour horseback ride there.
Nearly half of Lordaeron' stand army had been drafted for this war, most of them veterans from Eastern Lordaeron and the Third War - accompanying them were the better half of Quel'thalas' army, veterans as well from the Third War. During the five years that had passed, both armies seemed to have gotten very cooperative, more so than the rest of the Alliance - mixed training grounds and exchange military exercises; some high elves were already trained and training as paladins, while some humans were learning to be hunters from the high elves. A slight shame that this had to be born from the blood of a hundred thousand souls.
"Well met, lass!" greeted the voice of Muradin, from ontop of the cliff, that would overlook the Blasted Lands. Nearly five hours of riding through villages and seeing the scared villagers faces brought the sense of how dangerous this was - a fresh, brave face helped to ease the pressure. "Glad you could join us!"
"Glad we had arrived in time," replied Arthas, as the human-elven army caught up to him - beyond the lands was the Dark Portal, demons and orcs pouring from out of there and meeting them on the field of battle were the iron-knights of Stormwind and the mechanized forces of Khaz Modan.
"A lot of demons and orcs..." cursed Sylvanas, examining the battlefield.
"...not enough arrows in them," replied Vereesa, eager and ready for payback herself, wearing her usual ranger attire. "Looking good..."
"Very funny," said Sylvanas, her new attire consisting of the elven cloak and leather in the fashion of white and blue - the traditional colors of Lordaeron; her now mixed heritage. "Bet I can kill more than you sister."
"Your on!" replied Vereesa, tightening her own bow.
"To battle!" yelled Arthas, raising his sword up-high, the gathered armies roaring in approval. "Charge!"
"Charge!" repeated Kael'thas, who was wearing a battle-regalia. Following the Lordaeron King and Queen into battle - his army following side-by-side Lordaeron' army.
"For the Alliance!"
XXX
Away from the battles and war, near the once kingdom of Stromgarde was the undead fortress-city, mocked and called Deadguard - numerous undead creatures roamed the once mighty city and lands; yet under the city was where the true horrors happened - experiments, undead constructs, necromancy and alchemy combined in the most wrong way possible.
"Kel'thuzad, the Alliance have moved against the Dark Portal," spoke Baron Rivendare, arriving in the Apocatherium. "Shall I gather our forces?"
"No," replied Kel'thuzad, finishing on his project and turning to the suprised death knight.
"What?!"
"They're fighting against our Master' jailers and while the sacking of their lands might be possible, it isn't in our best interests," replied Kel'thuzad. "As such we won't be mobilizing."
"So we can't risk our forces, because of the humans?"
"Because of our Master," corrected Kel'thuzad. "If we were to attack, then the Alliance would focus on us and not our hated enemy, the Burning Legion."
"Do you think the Alliance has any chance?"
"Possibly, not certain. We continue our directive and unleash the much awaited assault upon Gilneas," said Kel'thuzad, rubbing his bony hands in eagerness.
"That's something I'd die to do," laughed Rivendare, tapping his runeblade that awaited fresh blood.
"Indeed - the Gilneans have always prided themselves on being great and untouchable, their mighty industry to favour them throught everything. Lets see how Gilnean cannons and guns face-off against Scourge constructs," said Kel'thuzad in dark joy. "Time for the rumours to become fact!"
XXX
Even farther away, beyond the great seamass, over on an another continent, through barren lands, ancient forests and deep into dark caverns housing beings that haven't been seen for eons...or seen the light of day themselves. Namely one person - Illidan Stormrage, the Betrayer.
Almost ten-thousand years had passed, since the 'Betrayer' was imprisoned here - watched over by an elite group of Sentinels known as Watchers, lead by one Warden Maiev Shadowsong. A skilled combatant in her own-right and as old as Tyrande Whisperwind herself - Tyrande, a woman of unmatched beauty - one Illidan had still feelings for, despite being jailed and her having chosen his brother over him. It made him mad and angry, more so than prison he was in or imprisonment.
Yet still, that was just a simple thought - among the millions of ideas he pondered on every day for the past thousands of years. There were many of them, yet most having to do with: regret, vengeance, redemption, bloodlust, escape and so on. He could only ponder nowadays as the cell was to small to move about and he couldn't see anymore, atleast not in the regular way - as his eyes had been burned out by the Great Destroyer, Sargeras himself and replaced by a sight even more greater.
But all of that, the sacrifices and the pain for nothing. His sight and his body put through many challenges to gain strength, and the woman he loved turned away from him; his appearance causing disgust, even though he had saved many a night elven brethren from the Legion; and the final insult - Betrayer, for attempting to create another Well of Eternity.
Was that ironic statement - the same reason he was locked-away and yet where the night elves built a mighty tree to harness its latent powers - hypocrits, all of them. He wanted to utilize it incase of a return of the Burning Legion and the night elves used it to prolong their lives - almost laughable at that and they call him traitorous.
But back to rotting in his cell, like everyday - one that hadn't changed since the day he had been locked here. Druidic runes covered the cell, to prevent his escape - unlikely, as Illidan had uncovered a way to escape the cell centuries ago, yet the Watchers and the druid Califax were in his way, and he wasn't in the mood to die to them in his weakened state, no matter how much time he was forced to stay here. A curse and a blessing in one - he both could and couldn't escape - who said Elune was merciful.
But today was different, as Illidan heard something interesting being spoken among a couple of Watchers. His hearing had sharpened over the years, as he had almost nothing to do but sit, exercise, meditate, think and listen.
Namely the subject was about a group of creatures called 'green-skins' or what they had been doing at the outskirts of Ashenvale - chopping down trees for their own purpose and engaging the Sentinels head-on; a death-sentence for the foolish beings. 'Green-skins', were they an enigma among Ashenvale, the only green looking creatures being Ysera' brood and the occasional odd forest troll; and none dared defile the forests they inhabited. But these 'green-skins' had a faint demonic taint to them, as Illidan heard - would this be an interesting tale to hear, compared to the dullness he had gotten used to.
That, or this might be the on-set of another Burning Legion invasion, which might mean they had returned - and yet even Illidan wouldn't wish that upon his people, no matter the punishment or jailment inflicted upon him.
Now however he had a better reason to keep his ears open, more than usual, as this incident could prove to be interesting to hear.
XXX
A/N: Kalimdor peek, as per request - for now then: Alliance is at the Dark Portal, Scourge going to attack Gilneas, and Illidan' thoughts.
Please review.