Here we are. Quel'thalas chapter. Managed to find a copy of the Sylvanas novel. Though I'm not sure if I portrayed her properly here.
Iskendar Hero: I don't really do powerscalings that much. As with regards as to how powerful is Arthas, it's hard to say. But he's definitely strong and should be able to handle Illidan but that remains to be seen.
ElysianStrokes: GTFO
WeirdBlockPoints: No worries with the long reviews! Tirion is definitely someone whom a lot may oppose his appointment as basically Lordaeron's commander-in-chief while Arthas is away. Sylvanas and Arthas would definitely have a few disputes along the way. And potentially, political consequences for Quel'thalas but it's hard to say what it is right now.
Chapter 22: Into the Realm Eternal.
It was good to return to Quel'thalas.
It has been almost fifteen years since the Blackrock Clan has stepped foot here under Doomhammer's command, though it was more or less a sideshow because the main objective back then was Lordaeron.
But now, with the mission to bring the Legion to bring Kel'thuzad to the Sunwell, Wrathjaw took this mission with satisfaction for the opportunity to see it burn before his very eyes. The Blackrock Clan's rampage was resolute, along with his undead allies of the Scourge. He would watch as every elf they had slain he revived by the Scourge's necromancers and turn them into effective soldiers.
He watched as his warriors set fire to farmlands, forests and villages alike, taking whatever they could to live off the land and to use their lumber as construction materials for their siege weapons. The elves have always prided themselves as a superior race, and he was eager to put them into their rightful place as he heard the screams of agony and desperation from any elf that they come across.
Elven women and children fled in terror, only to be mercilessly cut down by the warriors of the Blackrock before they were reanimated to serve the Scourge.
The Orcs reveled in the frenzy as they tore through the elven defenses. A young Farstrider tried to fight back with her bow, her arrows flying true, but Wrathjaw simply caught the incoming arrow with ease, breaking it with ease. "You fight well, little elf," he sneered. "But not well enough."
Said Farstrider was impaled by a chained hook, pulled ingloriously by an abomination into the forests as she screamed in terror while the Warchief moved on.
There, he saw one of the Scourge's necromancers standing over a slain elf warrior and was almost finished in reanimating. The elf's eyes snapped and he began to stir. Terror etched the faces of the man's son and wife who were cowering as they watched the unholy resurrection unfold.
"Arise in the name of Ner'zhul," the necromancer bellowed. "Slaughter your kin, and prove your loyalty to the Scourge!"
The reanimated elf took a shaky step forward, raising his weapon to strike down his own family. But Wrathjaw's voice called out, halting the necromancer's grisly command.
"Hold!" the Blackrock Warchief roared. "Their blood is not to be spilled so carelessly! They will serve us better alive!"
The necromancer paused in confusion. "Their souls will strengthen our forces, Warchief."
"Their souls will serve us just as well in chains," Wrathjaw retorted with malice. "A living elf is a symbol of fear and despair. There are plenty more souls to use, but keep some of them alive, either to serve or be sacrificed for our masters in the Legion."
The necromancer reluctantly complied. The elf's hand trembled, the sword lowering down as the reanimated husband moved away. His daughter and wife clung to each other, sobbing in disbelief and horror as the Scourge dragged them away, their future a nightmare of slavery and despair.
The necromancer left to rejoin the fray as Wrathjaw watched. The fear they had sown in the hearts of the elves was as potent as their blood. The Legion will be pleased at their suffering, as would he right after their precious city of Silvermoon is torn to cinders.
On of his warriors approached him respectfully. "Warchief," the orc growled, though his exhaustion was evident through his tone after their recent frenzy. "The Amani trolls seek audience with you."
Wrathjaw's interest piqued. Doomhammer had made such an alliance but did not capitalize their advantage due to him leaving for Lordaeron after he promised them to destroy Silvermoon. He would need of their expertise and knowledge of the land. "Very well," he agreed, glancing at the burning village. "Bring their leader to me."
The warrior obliged and soon after, he returned to find their Chieftain whom Wrathjaw recognized as Zul'jin, the leader of the Amani Trolls. The Fel Orc Warchief saw that the troll have lost both an arm and an eye, likely from torture rather than wounds from battle. Yet he carried those with pride rather than shame or weakness, a trait Wrathjaw found worthy of respect.
"It has been a while, Zul'jin...", Wrathjaw greeted the warlord before him, observing him with a keen eye. "The elves have certainly made their mark on you."
Zul'jin shrugged, stretching his one good arm. "Have certainly seen better days, Jubei.", he replied gruffly. "Is dat the name you're still using as da new Warchief?"
"Call me whatever you wish, troll.", Wrathjaw gruffly replied. "But first things first, why do wish you to speak?"
Zul'jin thought for a moment. "I have seen da work you and your friends have been doing. Like you have every intention of seeing de elves burn and not run away like Doomhammer had."
The Fel Orc grunted in return. "Doomhammer was weak in not pressing the advantage. Now, we have our own mission with the dead press on and head to Silvermoon."
Zul'jin's interest grew. "Planning to head to the heart of those elves? What makes you think you could pass through those blasted barriers of theirs?", he asked tentatively.
Wrathjaw carefully chose his words. "We already have a plan in motion. And if you wish to join us on our march, then do it. If not, stay out of our way and die."
"How do we first know you are not like da coward, Doomhammer? Or like da Horde?", the troll warlord asked.
"We have intentions to march straight ahead and not turn back until we have what we came for, troll.", Wrathjaw dangerously replied. "Make your choice, and I will see to it that you have will have a part of the share once we have completed our mission. And unlike the Horde before, we will fulfill our cause no matter the cost."
And with that, Zul'jin and the Amani trolls fell into line with the Blackrock Clan and the Scourge.
He then approached a group of five elf prisoners, fearful and defiant of their current predicament. They were on their knees, bound tightly with ropes that dug into their wrists, and Wrathjaw looked down at them with contempt, as did Zul'jin beside him. "Where are the rest of your kin?" he demanded.
The elves remained silent and their leader spat at Orc's face. "You will never find them," he declared. "And Silvermoon will never fall to the likes of you."
With a smirk, Wrathjaw brought his broadblade to life, the flaming weapon hissing as it sliced through the air. The elf's eyes widened, but they didn't waver at the display. "You'll tell us," the orc assured them, "or watch your people suffer for eternity."
The elf leader didn't back down. "We'd rather die," he rasped out, while is other comrades only looked at one another in fear.
The Warchief chuckled in response. "With pleasure." he said, raising his blade high.
In a single, brutal arc, the broadblade slashed through the prisoners' necks, their heads rolling grotesquely in the dirt before their bodies fell, before the necromancers moved to reanimate the bodies.
He turned to his warriors and Zul'jin with his raiders. "Burn their lands," he ordered. "Chop down their forests for our siege weapons. let the elves know the cost of their resistance. The Legion will not be denied."
The rampage continued, with Zul'jin and his men joining the Orcs in their slaughter against the elves where his hatred was at his highest point.
Sylvanas felt her very blood boil at the very sight of the atrocities the dead and those Orcs before them. And now, the Amani tribe decided to aid these monsters in burning down their land. She had outmost confidence of her abilities and knows she could drive them back as the commander of the Farstriders and the entire Quel'dorei military as Ranger-General.
Ranger-Lord Nathanos Marris, her close confidant and the only human made Ranger-Lord after she had went through hell and back just to give him his rank that included defying the whole of Quel'thalas, knelt beside her as they watched the atrocities unravel before them, looking grim but not as boiling compared to his superior from what she is seeing.
Sylvanas had always been a principled and prideful woman, but prone to making decisions based on impulse. Nathanos' job was often to make sure she kept her composure as a means to make sure she doesn't make any errors whose consequences are disastrous.
"Those wretches...", Sylvanas seethed out in gritted teeth as she and Nathanos watched from the concealed position away from the burning elf village. It has been almost two decades since the Orcs last came to Quel'thalas. Now they're working with undead monstrosities and the Amani trolls have now joined them in their rampage.
Nathanos placed a hand on Sylvanas's shoulder to calm her fury. "Lady Sylvanas," he began, "We have to be patient with this. I think it's best if we call for reinforcements from Silvermoon
Sylvanas whipped her head towards him. "So we wait while they desecrate our homeland and enslave our kin?", she challenged. "We have to make sure that their visit goes unanswered, Nathanos."
Her loyal subordinate remained had dealt with this attitude so many times that he didn't flinch. "We are not enough," he pointed out. Perhaps we should send a runner, and let them know what was going on."
Sylvanas clicked her tongue in frustration. "There's no time, Nathanos," she hissed. "The longer we wait, the larger their foothold grows by every minute."
He remained calm. "I understand your anger, my lady, but we need to think flearly. If we charge in now, we may fall prey to their numbers. Perhaps we should call in Lor'themar and Halduron to assist us."
For a moment, Sylvanas looked ready to argue, but something in his words resonated within. But then, Velonara, one of her Farstriders, arrived to give a report "My Lady," she panted, "An Alliance...expedition. They've arrived at the borders."
That was an entirely unexpected development. "What?" she exclaimed. "The Alliance is here? How?"
Nathanos looked uneasy. "They wouldn't come to our aid without a price," he warned.
But Velonara shook her head. "They are already helping us," she reported. "They are fighting alongside our people, helping to defend and evacuate the border villagers."
For a moment, Sylvanas was speechless. Quel'thalas had ceased most contact with the Eastern Kingdoms following the end of the previous war. But they had come to their aid without so much as a request. It was a gesture she had never anticipated.
But from what she had heard, Lordaeron itself was attacked by both the undead and Orcs, so she logically thought they wouldn't arrive to assist the Quel'dorei. But for now, they had a more immediate concern: the safety of their people.
Their stronghold in the first elf gate is already under siege. And Sylvanas had been forced into close quarters when the Death Knight, a Lordaeron noble called Baron Rivendare, charged ahead with his runeblade along with groups of undead and Blackrock Orcs leading the charge.
Sylvanas apparently didn't care either way. Her bow was already strapped across her back, and she had a curved blade in each hand, going literal toe-to-toe with the suddenly surprised the Death Knight Rivendare within her outpost.
And then, they have arrived.
The Alliance expedition bearing the insignia of Lordaeron charged ahead, where Lordaeron's Prince Arthas is leading the charge against the invading onslaught with a force that comprised of humans, dwarves and surviving high elves from the border outposts. Riding alongside him were Captain's Falric and Marwyn, Kirin Tor Archmage Jaina, Thassarian and Farstrider Jenalla, who had joined them.
Without a second thought, Jaina quickly activated casted several frost bolts against the advancing undead and Orcs. Falric, Marwyn and Thassarian quickly formed a shield wall along with their men to protect the fleeting civilians who are being covered by Jenalla and the surviving Rangers.
The sudden burst of holy light pierced the area, momentarily blinding Rivendare. Sylvanas, seizing the opportunity, swung one of her blades in a swift arc which cut through the Death Knight's defense and sending him reeling back.
Barov's pale visage twisted in a snarl, teleported to Rivendare's side after he was forced to retreat earlier by the Prince when his forces became outnumbered. "You've had your fun, Rivendare," he cackled. "But I've not yet had the pleasure of sending this whelp to the grave."
"And I'm taking this from someone who ran away just now.", the Baron shot back in annoyance.
Arthas leaped down from his steed where he approached Sylvanas, who was still glaring at the retreating Rivendare.
For a moment, Arthas felt like seeing another ghost of his past. Distinctively remembering on how he was very spiteful of her when all she did was defend her homeland from him. He resisted the urge to look away in shame, after everything he had put her through. Give my regards to hell. You son of a bitch, her final words to him echoed within his mind. This isn't over, Arthas! I'll never stop hunting you!
He shook his head as he stepped closer to her. "We didn't ask for your help," she spat at him.
Arthas only sighed, remembering how headstrong she is in doing things her way. "We know," he replied. "You're still getting it nonetheless."
Sylvanas's eyes narrowed at his rather insulting response, even though that wasn't his intention. "We can handle this," she insisted.
He took a step closer, his own weapons at his side, the war hammer's cold aura radiating a silent warning. "Maybe," he conceded, "unless you'd like to give more corpses for them to use."
For a heartbeat, she looked at him with suspicion. Then, with a resigned sigh she relented. "Fine," she gruffly replied. "But this is our war. Not yours."
The Prince nodded back in response. "I know," he said. "But it would soon be all of ours if we don't do this now."
Rivendare and Barov sneered at the Ranger-General and the Prince, brandishing their runeblades against them. "Shall we leave them to their prattle?", Barov asked his fellow Death Knight.
"No.", Rivendare replied, pointing his runeblade at them which left the two tense as they brandished their weapons. "Let us silence them forever."
Almost by cue, Arthas and Sylvanas dashed against Rivendare and Barov, whose runeblades left trails of dark energy in their wake as they sought to strike down their living adversaries. Sylvanas, with her twin blades flashing like a silver storm, was a blur of motion, her strikes precise and deadly, each one aimed at the heart of the two undead lords. Arthas brought forth the power of the Light, which clashed against the dark magic emanating from the Death Knights' runeblades, sending sparks flying in every direction with speed defying his size.
"You will die as your father will, Your Highness!" Rivendare roared at Arthas, poising for an overhead strike that was parried by his war hammer. Empowering his movements using his cursed power, Arthas quickly sent a shockwave that sent Rivendare tumbling to the ground, before quicky rolling over to dodge an incoming strike from the Prince.
Sylvanas and Arthas moved as if they had fought side by side countless times before, anticipating each other's moves as if they had been so familiar with one another, which made Sylvanas wonder for moment. They were a whirlwind of defense and offense, with the human Prince often defending her from any opening while she took on the offensive against the two Death Knights.
Rivendare and Barov found themselves struggling against them. Their blows, though powerful, lacked the finesse and passion their opponents have. Sylvanas leaped over a swing from Rivendare, her blade slicing through the air as she brought it down on the Death Knight's skull, only to have Arthas's hammer crash into the ground beside her, shattering the spell that Barov had been weaving to trap her in a cage of frost..
Arthas swung his war hammer with the grace of a Paladin against Death Knights' makeshift shields using frost magic. Slvanas, wove in and out of their reach, her twin blades leaving trails of silver in their wake. Barov countered by freezing the ground beneath their fee. Sylvanas leaped over the icy blast and brought her blades down in a vicious arc which met Barov's blade, leaving her open for Rivendare to gut her to where she is. Arthas reacted in time to block the Baron's strike against her.
Falric and his knights formed a steadfast line, cutting down the advancing undead and Amani. Jaina conjured fiery barriers and ice walls to shield the retreating elves, with her Water Elementals providing support. Thassarian and another Elf warrior tore through the enemy ranks with. Marwyn directed the defense from the rear, ensuring that no enemy slipped past their lines. Jenalla and Nathanos picked off stragglers and providing cover for the mages casting their spells.
Needing to end this immediately, Arthas and Sylvanas shared a nod where they charged at Rivendare and Barov once more. The two unleashed two powerful arcs from their runeblades, prompting Sylvanas to leap over the horizontal arc and Arthas sliding down with one knee with the vertical Death Knight anticipated the switch as Arthas charged at Barov while Sylvanas went against Rivendare.
Rivendare lunged in for a slash against Sylvanas, who whirled gracefully out of the way as she reversed the grip of her left blade, finding its mark on the right side of his knee before she brought her right blade in a vicious arc across his back, penetrating through his armor and he collapsed face first.
Barov sought to strike down Arthas with his own runeblade, but the Prince swung Light's Vengeance upwards, knocking Barov's grip from his weapon. Using this chance, Arthas struck Barov on his torso, heaving him upwards and smashing him onto the ground. To finish this, Arthas then struck him again to send him flying against the unconscious and wounded Rivendare, sending the two colliding against a ruined house just as Sylvanas leapt away from the Baron.
Barely alive and could barely regain his bearings, Barov teleported him and Rivendare away from the battlefield, their forces retreating in a disorganized fashion. Sylvanas was not done yet, as her blade are s still poised to follow them into whatever foul abyss they had escaped to.
"After them!" she exclaimed for everyone to hear in the outpost. "We can't let them regroup in their current state!"
Arthas, panting heavily, placed a on her shoulder to dissuade her from doing anything reckless. "Don't," he urged. "We'll go back to them, but not right now."
"We can't allow them to regroup, Prince!," she argued, gesturing to the outpost and the forests around them. "Look at what they've done already!"
Jaina stepped forward to calm her down, also seeing herself as how Sylvanas is determined as she is headstrong when it came to defending her homeland from what Arthas told her. "Lady Sylvanas, we first have to focus on the evacuation of civilians away from the battlefield as much as possible. Their safety would deny the undead any more potential recruits for their armies."
Sylvanas hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to give chase. But she knew the two made sense. The survivors of the elf gates and the surrounding settlements had to be evacuated before the Scourge could reorganize and launch another incoming offensive.
"Very well," she conceded. "We will tend to our people. But make no mistake," she spat. "I won't let them get away with with this."
Arthas nodded solemnly. "Nor will I," he assured her. "But first, we save those we can."
They looked around the outpost, finding it in ruins as several buildings have been destroyed. Falric, Jenalla and Nathanos gathered the wounded around them, while Thassarian and Koltira made sure the evacuation of civilians was orderly. "We can't stay here.", Arthas observed with a frown, knowing this scenario a bit too well for him. "We have to fall back to the second Elf Gate and reorganize a more thorough defense."
This didn't sit well with Sylvanas. "We can't let them push us back further, Prince." Sylvanas insisted. "The first elf gates are lost, yes, but if we retreat to the second, we concede our lands to the dead."
Arthas sighed. "You're right, we can't let them take any more," he agreed. "However, lands can always be taken back. But not lives. We can't fight them head-on, not without risking more casualties."
"So what, we just abandon our people?" she challenged, almost as if she's close to snapping. "You expect us to leave them to be slaughtered or worse, turned into mindless abominations?"
"No," the Prince firmly replied, "but we need to be thorough about this. We need to evacuate the civilians and prepare a strong defense at the second gate. The Scourge feeds on death, Sylvanas. Every soldier we lose is another one they can reanimate and use against us."
Sylvanas stared at him, finding logic behind his words. "And what of the Alliance?" she asked. "What is their true motive here? To save us, or to use us as bait in their own purposes?"
Arthas took a deep breath. "The Alliance is here to help," he assured her. "But you have to understand, we can't win this battle if we throw our lives away in a futile stand."
A few tense moments happened after that, and Sylvanas knew he was right; she had seen their necromancers turning their dead into monstrosities. But the thought of retreating, of giving up any more of their sacred ground, was just too much.
Sylvanas studied him for a long moment. But finally, she nodded, though it was clear the decision was one she made begrudgingly. "Very well," she conceded. "We will fall back to the second elf gate."
"That's all we ask," Arthas said. "We'll need all the time and resources we can get if we're to hold them off."
Their eyes held for a moment longer, a silent acknowledgment of the weight that rested upon their shoulders. Then, without another word, they turned to their respective forces to lead them to the outpost where Arthas and Jaina tailed Sylvanas. Falric, Velonara and Nathanos immediately began the evacuation process.
"If you don't mind me asking...", Sylvanas broke the silence between them as the Alliance expedition and the Farstriders began to make their way to the outpost at the inner Elf Gate where the Ban'dinoriel was powered where it temporarily deactivated to let them go inside. "Why is the Alliance here, and shouldn't you have your own issues to deal with back home?"
Arthas rode behind Sylvanas along with Jaina, Falric, Marwyn and their men with Jenalla and the Farstriders at the rear. "We do have. Though unfortunately, we have to act as to warn you and King Anasterian about the impending danger the Scourge poses, especially since the Blackrock Orcs and the Amani trolls joined up."
"Hmm," Sylvanas hummed. "I find it quire peculiar that the Alliance would extend its hand to Quel'thalas, especially after our...strained relations during the previous war. What is it you hope to gain from if, Prince?"
Arthas carefully chose his words. "The Scourge, Sylvanas," he answered. "They are a threat unlike any we have ever faced. They do not discriminate between elf or human, Alliance or Horde. They consume all life in their path." He paused to find the second elf gate looming before rhem. "When they attacked Lordaeron, our capital was left in ruins. My father, King Terenas, is barely clinging to life."
The elf's eyes narrowed. "And you believe that by helping us, you protect your own kingdom?"
"It's not about what I believe," Arthas countered. "It's about what I know. If the Scourge overruns Quel'Thalas, then everyone else in the Eastern Kingdoms would have to deal with an even larger undead horde strengthened by elf corpses."
"So you do this for your own people," she mused. "What makes you think we would not turn on you if we had the upper hand?"
Jaina, riding on Arthas's other side, spoke up gently. "Because we all share a common enemy. And you can trust us at that."
"Do not presume to tell me what is best for the elves of Quel'Thalas, human," Sylvanas sharply said. "We have survived countless wars and hardships. We are more than capable of defending ourselves."
"I never said you weren't," Arthas pointed out. "But we have a better chance if we stick together. The Scourge is not an enemy to be underestimated. Trust me, I've seen firsthand what they can do."
It was silent after that. Sylvanas saw it as one of necessity, not trust. But as they approached the second elf gate, she elected to place her faith onto them, for now.
Upon reaching the Inner Elfgate stronghold, the Alliance expedition was met countless faces, ranging from suspicion to outright hostility. The elves who didn't think that way were Jenalla and the Farstriders who had fought alongside them. Sylvanas and Arthas dismounted their horses before stepped into the command tent.
The elven leaders of the outpost eyed the humans warily, their postures rigid and their hands resting on their weapons. Sylvanas stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. "We don't have time for this," she snapped. "We need to prepare for the defense of our lands. The Scourge will be upon us soon."
Arthas nodded gravely. "The Ranger-General is right," he said, his voice carrying the same urgency. "But we must do so strategically. A hasty defense will only lead to more casualties."
The elves looked between the two leaders, their expressions a mix of skepticism and curiosity. It was clear that Sylvanas's brashness and Arthas's stoic resolve were a stark contrast to the usual elven tact.
Marwyn, ever the diplomat, stepped in. "Perhaps, my dear Sylvanas, we could hear Prince Arthas's thoughts on the matter?" he suggested, trying to ease the tension.
Sylvanas rolled her eyes but gestured for him to speak. "Fine," she said, her arms crossing over her chest. "Let's see if you humans have any brains between your skulls."
Falric and Marwyn looked at one another with the same thought: does she really have to be this prideful towards them?
Arthas looked over at the map before them, with the inner elf gate already marked by red ink to indicate it is lost. "Any advance will come through one of the narrow paths leading into the valley."
Sylvanas rolled her eyes. "I know this.", she replied as if it's the most obvious thing in Azeroth. "Our men defend these forests. The elfgate to the inner kingdom is protected by our most powerful enchantments. They won't pass."
Jaina wasn't convinced. "That likely won't be enough, Lady Sylvanas.", she spoke out in concern. "We're talking about not just the Scourge, but also the Blackrock Orcs and the Amani Trolls here. They'll come at you with brute force, which means strength in numbers and very likely have heavy weapons that could pierce through Quel'dorei formations."
"Not to mention, offensive operations against them won't be any good if whatever casualties sustained by your side will only swell their numbers. Not to mention they are quite literally hard to kill.", Arthas added, then looked at Sylvanas. "Are your men ready for that?"
Falric couldn't help but smirk at th his Prince's bluntness, while Jaina shot him a warning glance. "Very well then, Prince.", Sylvanas took their suggestions to heart for now. "If you have a brilliant plan with you, then let's hear it "
Arthas cupped his chin before he leaned forward. "Hear me out on this...when they approach. We run away."
Silence fell right after that.
Sylvanas stared at Arthas in utter disbelief. "You want us to run?" she scoffed. "That is no strategy, that is cowardice!"
He remained steadfast with a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Not at all, Sylvanas," he corrected her calmly. "It's strategy. Think about it. The Scourge expects us to defend the gate with everything we have, so we give them what they expect."
Velonara spoke up from the back. "You're suggesting a feigned retreat, Prince Arthas?"
Marwyn thoughtfully nodded. "It's a classic tactic. Draw them out, then strike from behind."
Falric added his support. "It's risky, but it could work if executed correctly."
Arthas continued to explain his plan. "It's quite intricate. We first make it seem we are launching a full-scale offensive. After a barrage or two, we retreat back to lure undead detachments who separated from their main army. Then, two separate divisions led by Nathanos and the others would swoop in, encircle them and destroy them."
Sylvanas' eyes narrowed, and she turned to her Farstriders. Nathanos met her gaze, his expression unflinching. "If it saves the lives of our people, I say we consider it."
Velonara, standing at attention, chimed in. "It's a daring move, but it could catch them off guard."
The Ranger-General's jaw clenched, seeing how her own men supported his idea. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "But I want it on record that I find this plan...less than ideal."
Arthas's smirk grew slightly. "Duly noted," he said. "Sometimes, the less ideal path is the one that leads to victory."
The room was tense. Sylvanas finally nodded, though she kept staring at Arthas with skepticism. "We'll prepare for that plan of yours," she conceded. "But if this fails, I will hold you personally responsible, human. So you better keep up."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Arthas replied with confidence in his voice.
The group dispersed and as they left the tent, Jaina leaned in to whisper to Arthas. "You do know you're playing with fire, don't you?"
Arthas glanced back at her, with a spark of humor on his face. "It's what I do best, Jaina."
The Archmage couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm just saying, you might want to be careful. You're starting to make friends with them."
"Wouldn't want it any other way, Jaina.", Arthas mused.
The next day...
The plan unfolded like a well-crafted trap. Arthas and Sylvanas stood side by side where they looked upon the Lich Ordin Frostbane who was in standby along with his forces. With a hand signal from Sylvanas to Velonara with a spyglass, the archers of the Farstriders and the dwarven mortars sent a rain of death into the oncoming undead, the explosive thunder of the mortars echoing through the morning as the first wave of the Scourge fell.
"Fall back!" Sylvanas barked the order and Arthas followed and together they led the elven and human forces back through the gateway, the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind them.
On the heels of the retreating allies, howled in rage in this impudence. "After them!" he bellowed to his minions. "They will not escape the wrath of the Lich King!"
The undead swarmed forward whule Arthas and Sylvanas watched as Ordin's forces split from the main army, falling for their ploy. The Alliance forces had bought themselves some time.
As the undead approached the elf gate, two more figures emerged—Jaina and Nathanos along with their men. Quickly, Jaina conjured a blizzard, freezing the ground beneath the undead's feet. On the other flank, Nathanos and his team of rangers unleashed a storm of arrows, each one finding its mark with unerring precision.
The encirclement was complete. The elven archers and human footmen picked off the staggered Scourge, their combined forces cutting through the enemy with ease. Sylvanas searched the chaos for Ordin, preparing her shot against him.
Finally, she found her target. With a snarl, she took aim at the lich. But before she could loose her shot, Arthas's war hammer swung down, shattering Ordin's body and sending him crashing to the ground.
"Hey! He was mine!" she shouted at the Prince with anger and dismay.
"You told me to keep up," Arthas quipped, his voice as cold as the wind that whipped around them. "So I did."
Sylvanas stared at him, a mix of anger and begrudging respect flashing across her face. Then, with a swift motion, she unsheathed one of her curved blades and plunged it into Ordin's chest, silencing his guttural growls.
After the last shambling corpse of Ordin's army fell to the ground, Jenalla and Velonara couldn't contain their astonishment. "It worked!" they exclaimed in unison, as the Quel'dorei and the Alliance forces celebrate their triumph.
"It seems so," Sylvanas murmured, looking at Arthas as he conferred with Jaina and his human officers. They were proud of their victory of course, and she couldn't help but feel annoyed that the Prince's strategy had paid off.
Nathanos approached her with amusement. "I trust you are not too displeased with our new ally, my lady," he remarked while watching her carefully.
"Peeved?" Sylvanas scoffed. "I'm not peeved, I'm... I'm..." She trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Satisfied?" he offered.
"No," she replied. "I'm suspicious. He's looking at me like he's already won."
Nathanos chuckled. "I assure you, Ranger-General, Prince Arthas is not looking down on you. He is merely...celebrating our victory."
"Celebrating," she spat the word out. "With that smug look on his face? He thinks he's better than us."
"Us or you? Perhaps it is relief you see in his eyes, Sylvanas," he said, his tone light. "After all, he is doing for both our homeland and his. Both are coincidentally mine since I was born from Lordaeron."
Sylvanas glared at him, but couldn't hold back a small, begrudging smile. "Fine," she conceded. "But just this once, Nathanos. And only because he's right. For now."
Nathanos chuckled again. "I'll be sure to remind him of your graciousness," he assured her with mischief.
Then, as if on cue, Arthas turned to them with a smile. "Thank you, Sylvanas, for your trust."
Sylvanas raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Prince," she sarcastically replied. "But don't think this makes us friends."
"Friends?" Arthas replied with a chuckle.. "I'd settle for not being enemies."
Jaina stepped between them. "Allies," she corrected. "We are all allies now, fighting for the same cause."
She was relieved to say those words. After seeing what Arthas did to Sylvanas in his previous life.
Twice they repeated that. Twice they succeeded, defeating quite a portion of the undead Scourge, even when the Blackrock Orcs and the Amani trolls have sent in reinforcements. All the while evacuating much of the population to Silvermoon by any means necessary.
Everyone was having their rations outside the camp. Velonara approached Sylvanas who was looking at Arthas as he conferred with Jaina and the human commanders. "I must admit, Lady Sylvanas , the prince has proven himself to be quite the leader," she mused with admiration.
Sylvanas' eyes narrowed at that. "Don't tell me you're falling for his charm," she lowly and dangerously said. "We need him, yes, but we can't afford to trust him too much."
"Charm?" Velonara chuckled. "No, I speak of his mind when of his own strategic thinking. He's managed to outwit the Scourge not once, but twice, not even including his own victories back at his own homeland. That's not something to scoff at."
Sylvanas scoffed nonetheless. "I am not 'envious' of a human," she said. "But I will admit that he's been surprisingly... capable."
Velonara nodded. "He's proven to be an asset," she agreed. "And considering he had no obligation to help us, I'd say it makes him so much different from the other human leaders who would probably leave us hanging after Quel'thalas seceded from the Alliance nearly fifteen years ago."
Sylvanas sighed. "I don't care about his motivations," she said. "All I care about is that he doesn't get in the way of protecting our people."
Velonara's smile was gentle. "But he hasn't, Sylvanas," she pointed out. "If anything, he's helped us more than I thought possible. And for that, I am grateful."
Despite her reservations, Sylvanas couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for the Prince who had come to their aid, though she would ask herself as to why is he so bent on helping them in the first place other than the reasons he gave out. "Perhaps," she murmured. "But don't forget, Velonara, we still have a long way to go before this war is won.",
"Yes" Velonara agreed with her. "We'll be on our guard. But let's focus on what we do have—an ally who knows how to fight."
Sylvanas grunted in assent. "For now," she said in finality. In her heart, she remained doubtful, but she knew that for the time being, they needed all the help they could get.
While Sylvanas was moody, Arthas took a seat at the terrace, the memories of his past rampage and of his choice to make her suffer out of pure and hateful spite came running down his mind again. He could still remember the sadistic glee he once had when he revived her as a Banshee to make her slaughter her people and parade her in Silvermoon when it finally fell before him.
And just how it made him feel guilt whenever he sees her after seeing how resilient she is when it came to protect her homeland. Just as he does when protecting Lordaeron.
Jaina found Arthas on the terrace, figuring he was lost in his own thoughts given this is also one of the most significant periods of his life. She approached him, her hand on his shoulder, and asked, "What's troubling you, Arthas?"
He sighed heabuly. "It's nothing," he replied, trying to put on a brave face.
Jaina knew him too well to see his own turmoil from within. "It's about Sylvanas, isn't it?" she pressed gently.
Arthas looked at her with sadness. 'It is quite difficult to look at her straight to the eye without remembering the day I turned her into a Banshee" he professed. "The pain I've caused her...I wouldn't want that to happen to her ."
Jaina took a seat beside him, understanding what he felt. "I know that you don't, Arthas.", she assured him. "You've already did the same for Uther, Muradin, your father and among countless others, so you don't have to be worried too much if you knew that you're doing it to prevent a repeat of the fate that fell to them."
"I am, Jaina...", he sighed. "I only wish that she does not have to go through all that pain after I once robbed her of everything she had loved."
Jaina offered a comforting smile. "Arthas, you've already changed so much and became a leader that people could look up to. And I believe that Sylvanas sees it too, even if she doesn't show it." She paused,. "Remember, she's a proud elf. It's not in her nature to show vulnerability, especially not to a human that is."
He nodded. "I know. But I can't help but feel that she despises me, and with good reason, even though it hasn't happened. I've taken so much from her."
"Maybe so," Jaina conceded. "But she's not the Banshee Queen from before. She also sees what you're doing now. The risks you're taking, the lives you're saving. That has to mean something to her."
Arthas was silent for a moment. "Do you really think so?"
"I do," Jaina said firmly. "You've proven yourself to be a true ally in this fight. And whether she admits it or not, I think she knows it too."
He looked at her with gratitude. "Thanks, Jaina," Arthas murmured. "I just hope that...she could forgive me. Even though she never knew of the fate I cursed upon her from before."
The Archmage squeezed his shoulder. "Give her time, Arthas," she urged him. "Time, and maybe a few more battles won together."
The Prince looked over at the night sky. Maybe there's a chance after all...
Still trying my best to figure out Sylvanas' portrayal as a High Elf before things went bad for her. From what I read, she was prideful, a prankster in her youth, cheeky, arrogant, rebellious, pretty fierce in defending Quel'thalas, and had a lot of expectations for her as Ranger-General of Quel'thalas. Leave suggestions as how she is portrayed. Would totally appreciate it!
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