Update Archive/7

ALTERACCCC!
"As you command, lord Xie." General Drace says. Work on the city is quickly begun, and the people are called out to work on the fortifications day and night. It is clear that lord Xie is preparing for something.
The arrival of the evening heralds the return of Court Wizard Caxagord from Lordaeron, with the answer from its king.
"Lord Xie, King Alford Menethil did not yet accept an alliance, but instead has decreed that you meet with him at Fenris Isle, to the west in Lordamere Lake."
Meanwhile, Drace trains the first Assassin-Magi beneath the city.
---
Zinizar seems to contemplate Javali's offer for a moment, but it does not take long for her to accept. Whatever the Archivists mean to her, it is clear enough that she is willing to use her Hareveim to achieve the common goal.
"So be it. If you disband the Archivists, then I will bestow upon you a gift, Javali. We know the secrets of Zinine, and though Hareveim are strictly women, we can found you a new order of male warriors, loyal to you and the Azure Goddess. Zaramim. Battle-magi." Zinizar explains eagerly. "Choose one of your Generals, either Leo or Marius, and I will annoint him as the first Zaramim when the time comes."
Archmage Franek stands at attention, catching both Javali and Zinizar off guard.
"A messenger to see you, lord. It is a dwarf of all things. He says he is from distant Ironforge. And a letter from Lordaeron, bearing the seal of King Alford Menethil." 
Curiously, Javali breaks the wax seal and reads the letter.
In accordance with the ancient oaths and honourable traditions of our ancestors, you are called to Fenris Isle on the first day of the Summertide to discuss matters of state with your neighbouring kingdoms.
-Signed, King Alford Menethil of Lordaeron
Zinizar takes her leave. The dwarf messenger steps forward, a short and stocky figure with a greying beard and a beer gut outlined by his leather armour. He is worn and tired from his journey, but is happy to see Javali.
"I been told you are the man in charge in Dalaran, aye? I bring greetings from Thane Skirvar Thaurissan, regent of Ironforge. I come all this way because he wishes to work with ye. We discovered a black powder which we wish to turn into a weapon, and your researchers may help us in the affair."
---
Ironforge - Skirvar
Skirvar's words seem to comfort both Urel and Jaril, who nod their heads and continue the ride contentedly. They pass by the Quel'Danil high elven hunting lodge but do not stop for rations. Elves are mysterious folk, and the dwarves have very little contact with them. Imposing the company on strange folk was unwise and would hinder their journey. The three dwarves head straight over the mountains and slowly descend into ever thicker forests. It is a miracle that the native Vilebranch or Witherbark trolls have not hindered their passage... yet.
Eventually they vanish under the true eaves of Zul'Aman and its ancient pines, the trees growily steadily larger the deeper they rode.
"I think we be lost, Skirvar. What do ye propose?" Jaril mumbled.
"You forget I'm a good tracker, Jaril! Don't be so insultin', lad." Urel chimed in heartily. "I just hope these damn trolls don't kill us on sight."
The dwarves rest by a river for the night. They are unable to shake off the feeling that they are being watched. With morning light they ride further north, but eventually even Urel has to admit that he has no idea where they are.
It is fortunate that they took precautions and supplied themselves well. Suddenly, however, a spear thuds into the cold earth next to Jaril, sending his ram into a panicked frenzy. As a result, both Skirvar and Urel's mounts rear and buck, but both dwarves manage to keep control of them. Jaril does not manage to take control, and his ram gallops off into the hills with him on its back, leaving Urel and Skirvar behind him. Fear is clear on Urel's face as he looks to Skirvar for instruction.
Feet thud to the ground, and both dwarves look to see a company of trolls approaching them. The forest trolls surround them and hold spears at the ready. Two of them are bulkier and stronger than their brethren, and appear to be the leaders. They face eachother and grumble and growl to one another in their native language, probably to decide on the fate of the dwarves. Finally, one of them walks up to Skirvar and speaks in broken Common. Skirvar only barely manages to understand him.
"I be being Ba'jal, mon, second chief of the Amani tribe." he says through narrowed eyes, impressive tusks raised in defiance. "This be troll land. Our land. What you be doin' here? Do you be wanting us to bury you here? No outsiders allowed, mon. You best explain yo'self, 'cause I got an angry Mosstusk overlord back there who thinks you might be to blame for the deaths of his men."
Skirvar swallows, his mouth dry.
---
[[Phorcys] nods at his son with a grim smile on his gnarled face.
"Prepare yourself, young man. Teleporation makes one prone to feel ill if you're not used to it."
Thaumas is suddenly blinded by green light. A wrenching feeling knocks him over, giving him the sensation he had been punched in the gut. His head clears, and he has to blink twice before his eyes adjust at his new surroundings. He is standing on a hill overlooking the village of Drisburg. It is one of the chief trading ports of Kul Tiras, hosting foreign residents, some of which were even dwarves or elves. Tiled rooves stuck out above a network of streets, all opening up to the shipyards and the actual docks. Thaumas could not help but see that the battle had already begun. People were screaming, women crying. He saw captain Reginald Redpath, the man who had saved his life, leading his soldiers in the streets. They are facing men wearing green, like them, but the anchor crest on their tabards is a silver white rather than gold. Janus' separatists had arrived.
The separatist fleet had already dropped anchor, and soldiers were rowing into the port by the minute.
Phorcys raised his staff and began walking down towards the struggle at a leisurely pace. Thaumas takes up arms and joins his men. He is no coward.
He quickly notices two figures in robes watching from the rebel flagship. Perhaps it is the magi that Phorcys sensed. However, the magi are not making any moves to attack his soldiers, or even help the rebels at all. They are just watching.
Meanwhile, Phorcys is not yet casting any magic. He is simply fighting hand to hand, gliding through flesh with his sword as if he were still just as young as Thaumas.
The batte is not going well. Captain Reginald Redpath rushes up to Thaumas at the side of the docks. His vest is covered in blood.
"My lord, get to safety! We can't hold them for much longer! What would you have us do?"
Thaumas recognizes that he has several options. He understands why Phorcys has not used his magic. It might provoke the magi to join in on the fight. However, there are not many options. A full scale retreat might offer them a chance to regroup and bring in the main army from Boralus, or Phorcys could use his magic.
He pauses for a second. Thaumas remembers his prayer to Mnesthes. Perhaps he could bring in the couatl... but that would pose a terrible risk. If the couatl are wild, they might turn on his own men. His mind races.
---
Ba'jal immediately left to carry out his orders. Messengers were sent to deliver Jin'thek's reply to Jintha'alor.
There was not much left to be done. The Summertide was only days away now. The next afternoon, however, a scout runs into the village.
"Jin'thek! Ba'jal has captured two dwarves not far from here! You must come immediately!"
---
Thomassy complied with his king's wishes immediately. Court Wizard Caxagord was sent back to his lord Xie with the message that had been given. In turn, Thomassy set off to inform the other nations and send letters to the respective rulers to inform them of the meeting at Fenris Isle.
In all haste, King Alford Menethil, Sherman and their guards make for Hearthglen. It took them a day of hard riding, but they do not stop anywhere because they are, after all, disguised. They cannot let anyone know that they are meeting with the rebels.
Eventually, Alford stops before the closed gates of Hearthglen. The proud, white walls of the city rise up before the party. Alford remembers Hearthglen from his childhood, as he had spent a lot of time there when growing up. His earliest, secret romances, the few rules he broke; all were a part of his childhood in Hearthlgen. He had been a fool. His father had shown him the path, had forged his manhood, turning him from a child into the next king. Those memories were unworthy of him.
None opposed their entrance to Hearthglen. Alford had been expected. Sherman remained uneasy, his hand at his sword as they trotted through the town. They halted in the courtyard of the central keep. A heavily armoured young man awaited them, his brown hair tied back to show fine cheekbones and an arrogant expression. It was Maximus Krowl, certainly a lot younger than Alford had expected him to be.
"Come inside, good king. You may remain armed; I understand. I expect no less. Captain, take my sword." Krowl beckoned to one of his men, unstrapping his blade and handing it over.
It certainly helped Alford feel more confident of the situation. At least Krowl was showing good will... so far.
Sherman remained awkward, his eyes shifty.
"Keep on your guard, my king." he mumbles as they are led inside.
Soon they are all seated before a blazing fire which a servant feeds with fresh wood. Krowl calls for drinks to be served, and takes the first gulp to show that it is safe.
"Tell me what this is about, Krowl." Alford demands.
"Of course, dear king." Krowl responds. He clears his throat, beckons for silence around him, and he begins. It is clear, however, that no love is lost between him and Sherman.
"A couple of years ago, I served under Sherman in the provincial guard, rising through the ranks. It was what my father had wanted me to do, as he had done in his younger days, as his own father had done before him. Service to the crown. No better way to serve Lordaeron." Krowl spoke steadily, lingering on certain parts as he thought back. "I hope you can respect me for my weakness of heart, good king, but I was struck down by the most idle of trivialities. It was a mix of jealousy and love for a noble's daughter. However, being nothing more than a lowly captain, I was not eligible to ask for her hand in marriage. It made me bitter. I served on nonetheless, but that set in motion my loss of faith in the system."
Sherman ground his teeth.
"How can you possibly speak so freely of my cousin, as if she were some trophy?"
The complicated nature of the situation set in. Sherman was related to Krowl's love interest. Still, Alford could not understand why a man would betray his country over something so small.
"You still do not explain what you want. Did you call me here to Hearthglen so that I might give you therapy? Is that it? Speak, Krowl!"
Maximus Krowl shook his head solemnly, regaining his composture. He rose, towering above them.
"No. What did displease me was Sherman kicking me out of the military as punishment for my feelings. I met her and she returned the sentiments, and Sherman took his revenge by disgracing my entire family and stripping me of my rank."
"Why do you blame me?" Sherman spat. "I spared you far worse under the eyes of the law by making you leave. I could have had you beaten, Krowl."
"My king, your laws are unjust, your system unfair. Cast out and disgraced, the first of generations to fail in his duty, I realised that it was not my own fault, but rather the fault of aristocracy. I joined the budding People's Front. The witch hunts only meant that pagans joined our ranks as well. And now you face our united front. You want a solution? Strip Sherman of his rank. Do what he did to me. Return the favour. Let me marry lady Thera and restore my honour. I will serve at your side in Sherman's place, and in exchange I will disband the entire People's Front."
Alford feels foolish for daring to hope that the situation could be resolved by a few friendly words after all. Sherman slams his fist down on the table, and draws his sword.
"How dare you, Krowl!"
Category:Updates
Category:By Timolas