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(A/N: Chapter 106 will soon be on Patreon!)
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(Now back to the story!)
After the royal castle of the Menethils was reclaimed by the people of Lordaeron, Alastor and the other high-ranking leaders of the Alliance made their way toward the Scarlet Crusade army camp.
Even before they arrived at the central command tent erected for the meeting, Alastor spotted a familiar sight.
Alleria was practically squeezing the life out of Vereesa outside the spacious command tent, releasing a great deal of pent-up stress at finally seeing one of her sisters again.
"Sister, it's good to see you, but gah! I can't breathe!"
"Hush, little moon! I was worried sick about you and the others, especially when I couldn't get any communications through to Quel'Thalas!"
'What?'
This was the first time Alastor had heard that communications with the High Elven kingdom was still disrupted. By all accounts, with the destruction of the rift, communications should have returned to normal.
After finally freeing herself from Alleria's embrace, Vereesa noticed Alastor and immediately brightened.
"Alastor! It's great to see you. You have no idea how glad I am."
Alastor frowned.
Now that he had a closer look, Vereesa did not appear to be in good condition.
Her hair was slightly disheveled, there was visible tension in her posture, and a concerning amount of worry lingered in her eyes.
"Likewise, Vereesa. But what happened to you? And are you alone here?"
Vereesa visibly flinched and lowered her gaze.
"No. I came with Lor'themar Theron. He's a seasoned Farstrider and currently serves as second-in-command under our sister Sylvanas, the Ranger-General."
Wait, what?
"Sylvanas? Did Mother step down as Ranger-General?"
Alleria asked curiously, only to frown when Vereesa visibly tensed.
"Vereesa... Mother did step down, right?"
As Alleria questioned her sister, Alastor noticed something else entirely.
His eyes drifted over the other High Elves present.
The warriors and mages looked exhausted, and both their robes and armor bore visible signs of damage, making them appear far less elegant and otherworldly than they normally did.
What concerned him even more, however, was that he had spotted several High Elves who clearly did not fit the appearance or demeanor of either warriors or mages.
They were tense, worried, and tired.
Unlike the soldiers, they were far less successful at hiding it.
Civilians.
Why were High Elf civilians here?
The bad feeling growing in Alastor's stomach only intensified as his mind began considering possible explanations.
Most of them were not good.
Thankfully—especially for Vereesa—the arrival of another individual interrupted the conversation.
A High Elf emerged from the command tent.
He had blue eyes, long platinum-blond hair, and wore the distinctive armor and attire of a Farstrider.
He looked surprised to see them all gathered outside, but quickly composed himself.
Offering Alleria a respectful nod, he then turned toward Alastor and gave a bow that carried both respect and deference.
"Supreme Commander Alastor. I am Lor'themar Theron, second-in-command of the Farstriders of the Elven Ranger Corps. It is an honor to meet the Hero of Azeroth."
Alastor returned the greeting with the traditional Azerothian salute, placing a fist over his heart.
"Well met, Farstrider. But it appears time is of the essence. We have questions, and judging by the look of things, you have matters you wish to discuss."
"Indeed, my lord. The others have already arrived, and with your arrival, we may begin the meeting."
Alastor nodded.
Beside him, Alleria gave her sister one last worried glance before falling into step alongside him as they entered the spacious command tent.
Alastor had a feeling this was going to be quite the headache.
<----------------------------->
'I hate it when I'm right,' Alastor thought miserably.
Outwardly, however, his expression remained calm, blank, and stoic despite the tense atmosphere within the tent.
On one side of the table sat Lor'themar and Vereesa.
Behind them stood several officers of the Elven military.
On the opposite side sat numerous leaders of the Alliance.
As Supreme Commander, Alastor occupied the head of the table.
Alleria sat beside both Alastor and Vereesa.
Beneath the table, she reassuringly squeezed her younger sister's hand, sensing the anxiety radiating from her.
It didn't help that the Alliance leaders were not exactly giving the High Elves friendly looks.
"It's nice to see that the High Elves have finally decided to move."
Thoras' voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Albeit only during the final phase of the war."
"What're ya bloody knife-ears skulkin' around here for, eh?!"
Belegar was about as subtle as a warhammer to the face.
"Come ta snatch up a piece o' the glory fer a war ya didn't bleed in?!"
Despite maintaining his composure, Lor'themar visibly flinched.
A flash of shame crossed his eyes.
Beside him, Vereesa lowered her head in a similar display of guilt.
Suffice it to say, the Alliance leadership was not happy with the High Elves.
While the forces of Chaos and the Scourge had threatened their world and way of life, the kingdoms and races of Azeroth had answered the call to arms.
The human kingdoms.
The dwarven kingdoms.
The Gnomes.
Even the isolated Night Elves.
Even the Dragonflights.
Old rivalries and grudges had been cast aside.
Men and women from countless nations and races had not fought as separate peoples, but as Azerothians.
Everyone had answered the call!
Every man and woman, regardless of nation or race, had bled, roared, and died upon the battlefields to push back the darkness.
Everyone...
Except Quel'Thalas.
Since the beginning of the war, the kingdom of the High Elves had refused to participate.
King Anasterian Sunstrider had justified the decision on the grounds of securing their borders and strengthening their own defenses.
While Alleria Windrunner was largely viewed as an exception due to her actions early in the war as both an Alliance hero and frontline commander, her service alone was not enough to appease the growing frustration and resentment directed toward Quel'Thalas.
"Wait."
Gelbin finally spoke up, acting as the voice of reason among the Alliance leadership.
"I know all of you are angry, my friends, and I understand that anger. My people have bled and died on these battlefields as well."
He paused before continuing.
"But we are better than this."
"We are leaders, generals, and heroes. We set an example for both the Alliance and our people."
"So let us at least hear them out."
Alastor wanted to give Gelbin a bone-crushing hug.
As eccentric and technology-obsessed as most Gnomes tended to be, the Gnome King was also one of the most level-headed individuals within the Alliance leadership.
A genuine voice of reason amongst the more hot blooded leaders.
The other Alliance leaders paused before reluctantly settling back into their seats.
Seeing the opportunity, Gelbin nodded toward Lor'themar.
The Farstrider returned the gesture with a grateful look.
"My lords, first and foremost, on behalf of the High Elves, I offer our sincerest apologies for not participating in the war to the extent that we should have."
"But you must understand that the situation within Quel'Thalas was far from simple."
Alastor and the other leaders exchanged glances before gesturing for him to continue.
"First of all, the decision not to participate in the war was supported by King Anasterian and the majority of the Silvermoon Council of Archmagi."
"Opposing that decision was Lord Verath and his supporters."
"Also opposing it were the generals of the High Elven Army, as well as the commanders of the Elven Ranger Corps, led personally by Ranger-General Lireesa Windrunner."
(A/N: The Elven Army serves as the primary military force of the High Elves, while the Elven Ranger Corps consists of rangers, scouts, reconnaissance units, and similar formations. The Farstriders are the elite among them.)
"When King Anasterian responded to calls for support with outright rejection, it caused widespread outrage among the opposition, who wished to send our forces south to aid the Alliance."
"This led to severe political instability, as the Windrunner family began openly opposing the edicts issued by Silvermoon."
"In effect, the kingdom's power base was split into two opposing factions."
Alleria paled at those words.
That was not a good sign in any way.
The Alliance leaders also stared in wide-eyed shock.
They had never imagined that much of Quel'Thalas's leadership had actually wanted to aid the Alliance, nor that the kingdom itself had been teetering on the brink of civil war while the conflict raged across the continent.
"As this was happening, Beastkin activity within the forests of Silvermoon and the Thalassian Mountain Range suddenly intensified."
Lor'themar's expression darkened.
"Their numbers grew to levels not seen in centuries."
"But due to the political division within the kingdom, an appropriate response could not be organized. Their numbers outside the Ban'dinoriel's outer shields continued to increase, while settlements beyond its protection were either slaughtered or forced to evacuate inward."
His jaw tightened.
"Then we were... betrayed."
Alleria's head snapped toward him.
Her gaze had become ice-cold.
"Who?"
"Dar'Khan Drathir..."
Lor'themar's expression became a mixture of anger, shame, and guilt.
"He was—or rather, I believed he was—my friend."
"He had secretly devoted himself to the service of the Chaos Gods, specifically the God of Change, Tzeentch, and had been receiving his blessings for quite some time. In hindsight, that would explain his sudden rise through the ranks of the Silvermoon Council."
"Dar'Khan not only provided the enemy with the means to bypass the outer barrier of Ban'dinoriel and destroy the Runestones maintaining it, but he also supplied them with information regarding the formations and deployments of the Elven Ranger Corps."
His eyes lowered.
"Information which, much to my shame, he received from me."
Now it was Alastor's turn to squeeze Alleria's hand.
On her other side, Vereesa did the same.
The Ranger-Captain honestly looked as though she wanted to gut Lor'themar where he sat!
The elf in question didn't even appear afraid.
If anything, he looked as though he believed he deserved whatever punishment came his way.
Yet both Lireesa and Sylvanas had refused to punish him, repeatedly telling him that he could not have known of his former friend's treachery and that the betrayal was not his fault.
Eventually, aided by Alastor and Vereesa, Alleria forced herself back under control and resumed her seat.
This time, however, it was Vereesa who spoke.
"The enemy forces gathering outside our borders were too numerous for the outer defenses to contain."
"Once the Runestones were destroyed and the Ban'dinoriel's outer shields collapsed, vast numbers of Beastkin poured into our lands."
Her voice trembled.
"Alongside them marched a large army of Daemons led by several powerful Greater Daemons and high-ranking servants of Chaos."
"They began tearing through our defenses."
"When the King, the Council, and the army finally gathered to meet the enemy in the outer regions of Quel'Thalas and at least halt their momentum..."
Vereesa's breathing faltered.
Her eyes began to mist over, but she forced herself to continue.
"Dar'Khan revealed his true allegiance."
"Along with nearly a third of the Silvermoon Council, who also turned traitor, he performed a Fel ritual that cursed the battlefield with a plague blessed by Nurgle."
"The curse rapidly drained the strength of our forces."
"At the same time, the traitors attacked the loyalist members of the Silvermoon Council, slaughtering many of them and successfully wounding King Anasterian."
"The army was almost completely annihilated by the combined assault of mutants and Daemons."
"Mother and Father did everything they could to counterattack and organize a retreat for as many soldiers as possible, but they were besieged by multiple powerful enemies."
Then came the words that caused the entire tent to fall silent.
"Malak personally slew the King."
"What?"
Antonidas' eyes widened in disbelief.
He knew better than most how powerful Anasterian Sunstrider had been.
The King of Quel'Thalas was one of Azeroth's greatest Archmages.
Even Antonidas himself would have struggled in a direct battle against him.
Crack!
Alastor's hand clenched so hard against the table that the wood beneath it splintered.
Across from him, Anduin and Varian's expressions darkened considerably.
So that bastard was is in the North!
"Sister, what happened to Mother and Father?!"
Alleria's voice was filled with worry as she dreaded the answer.
"They live..."
Vereesa answered weakly before Lor'themar quickly continued.
"Lady Alleria, through the full power of Thas'dorah, Ranger-General Lireesa was able to blast open a path through the enemy ranks."
"She even managed to kill Dar'Khan during the escape."
"Through the sacrifice of several Farstriders, your parents were successfully evacuated to safety."
"But both of them suffered grievous injuries due to the betrayal and subsequent ambush."
His expression became grim.
"Their souls also sustained significant damage."
"As a result, we were forced to place both Magister Verath and Ranger-General Lireesa into magically induced comas in order to stabilize their conditions."
Alleria paled.
Even Alastor was visibly shaken by the revelation.
He had developed a great deal of respect for his in-laws after meeting Verath and witnessing Alleria's reconciliation with her mother.
"Where are they?!"
Vereesa immediately rose from her seat and gently took her eldest sister's hand.
"I'll take you to them."
Her voice softened.
"When we came here, we brought them with us."
Alleria swallowed hard before nodding.
Without another word, she followed Vereesa out of the command tent.
Alastor didn't fault either of them for leaving.
He knew that if he were in Alleria's position, he would have done exactly the same.
Once they were gone, Alastor turned his gaze back toward Lor'themar.
The warmth and sympathy vanished.
The Supreme Commander of the Alliance remained.
His voice became firm and authoritative.
"What of Kael'thas and the aftermath?"
He folded his hands together.
"And tell us about the current situation within the Elven lands."
Lor'themar nodded.
"Prince Kael'thas was also wounded during the battle, but compared to others, he was fortunate."
"He received healing shortly after the successful retreat to Silvermoon City."
"Despite the loss of his father, Kael'thas immediately assumed the responsibilities of kingship."
"At the same time, Lady Sylvanas inherited Thas'dorah and assumed the position of Ranger-General while her mother remained incapacitated."
"Grand Magister Belo'vir Salonar was killed during the fighting."
"With Lord Verath also incapacitated, his apprentice, Archmage Rommath, currently leads the Magi in his master's stead."
Alastor frowned.
"And the current situation?"
Lor'themar's answer was immediate.
"Bad."
He paused briefly.
"Very bad."
"With the outer shield destroyed, vast numbers of Beastkin and Daemons have poured into our lands."
"Many High Elves have been slaughtered, while most survivors have been forced to retreat inward toward the central territories surrounding Silvermoon City."
"We have only endured this long because of Lady Sylvanas."
A faint note of admiration entered his voice.
"She has effectively become the de facto leader of Quel'Thalas."
"Every victory achieved by the enemy has been paid for in blood."
"Every step of ground they have gained has cost them dearly."
Alastor allowed himself a grim smile.
'Good old Sylvie.'
She might be caring and fiercely protective of those she loved.
She might also be absurdly competitive at times.
But Sylvanas Windrunner was every bit as ruthless a tactician as she was a military genius.
And that was saying something.
Victory?
Then they had better be prepared to pay for it with a pound of flesh.
"That explains it!"
Tirion's eyes widened as he turned toward Alastor.
"My lord, when the combat groups were dispatched after the fall of Alterac, they did encounter undead forces, but they also reported a significant lack of Beastkin and Daemons."
Turalyon frowned.
"The Daemons could be explained by them dissipating and returning to the Aether if they could no longer maintain their forms in reality, although it was strangely early for such an event."
His expression darkened.
"What was even stranger was that the Alliance encountered far fewer Beastkin than we expected."
Abbendis nodded in agreement.
"I found that strange as well."
He folded his arms.
"My forces and I, along with Turalyon, have been fighting in the north since the beginning of the war. We know better than most the numbers the Beastkin were operating with."
"The current situation was simply too abnormal."
"I had my men investigate the matter and was planning to bring it to your attention after Lordaeron had been fully secured."
Suddenly, Alastor's eyes widened.
"Lordaeron..."
A look of realization crossed his face.
"Frak! So that's what it was!"
Everyone on the Alliance side turned toward him.
"This was too easy."
His voice became grim.
"After the fall of Alterac, the destruction of the Warp Portal should certainly have been a major setback for the enemy."
"But it shouldn't have allowed our forces to advance all the way to the capital city this easily."
The other leaders' eyes widened as their thoughts began following the same line of reasoning.
Varian snarled as his fist tightened.
"Those bloody bastards!"
His expression twisted with anger.
"Of course it was easy to retake Lordaeron."
"The enemy had already decided to abandon both it and the Scourge."
His eyes narrowed.
"Their target—no, their backup plan—was always Quel'Thalas."
Lor'themar nodded grimly.
"We arrived at a similar conclusion ourselves."
"We believe that the moment the Alliance began turning the tide of the war, the enemy initiated this contingency plan and started diverting more and more of their forces toward our lands."
"At this point, there is a massive horde of Beastkin and a large Daemonic army encroaching upon Quel'Thalas."
"Most likely, they redirected whatever resources and Warp energy remained available after the destruction of the Rift in order to sustain the Daemons' existence and maintain a significant portion of their power for whatever they have planned for us."
Lor'themar slowly rose from his seat.
When he spoke again, his voice carried a deadly seriousness.
"The enemy has already broken through the middle defenses."
"It will not be long before they reach the inner territories of Quel'Thalas and eventually Silvermoon City itself."
"We have exhausted nearly everything at our disposal merely to slow the tide."
His expression tightened.
"But we cannot stop it."
"Ranger-General Sylvanas has already ordered the majority of the Elven Army to begin mass evacuations through routes leading beyond Quel'Thalas."
"The warriors, magi, and civilians are being escorted to safety."
A heavy silence settled over the tent.
"As for Sylvanas..."
Lor'themar's voice grew quieter.
"She, the majority of the Elven Ranger Corps, the remaining Magi, and whatever remains of the Elven Army will stay behind in Silvermoon."
"They intend to buy enough time for the people of the capital and the kingdom to escape."
Kurdran stared at Lor'themar in shock.
Then his expression turned furious.
"And ye left her behind?!"
He slammed a fist against the table.
"Ya cowardly wazzock!"
"Are ye tellin' me ye turned tail and abandoned yer own leader?!"
Dwarves were a stubborn people.
But they were also fiercely loyal.
Many a dwarf would never even entertain the thought of abandoning a comrade, even in the face of certain death.
To do so without an exceptionally good reason would earn condemnation not only from Dwarven society, but from the Maker Himself.
"I WOULD HAVE DIED WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE!"
For the first time, Lor'themar genuinely looked enraged.
His glare met Kurdran's without hesitation.
"I am a proud High Elf and a Farstrider of Quel'Thalas!"
"If dying while defending my homeland from the filth that now defiles it was required of me, then I would have done so gladly!"
"I would have died with a smile on my face and a bow in my hands!"
His eyes swept across the room.
"Just as any one of the people present here would have done for their own homeland!"
That effectively silenced everyone.
Far from becoming angrier, Kurdran actually found his respect for the so-called "knife-ear" increasing.
After taking several deep breaths, Lor'themar finally calmed himself.
"The decision was supported by King Kael'thas despite our fierce objections."
"We do not know everything that was discussed between them."
"But Lady Sylvanas ultimately gave my group and the accompanying army two orders."
"The first was the same order given to the other evacuation groups."
"Evacuate as many of our people as possible, as quickly and safely as possible."
"We were to escort them beyond Quel'Thalas, relocate them to secured settlements along our shared borders, and negotiate temporary refuge in major human settlements."
"The goal was to ensure the survival of our people."
He paused before continuing.
"The second order was to find her sister, Alleria, and her friend, Alastor Wrynn."
"And request assistance regarding the soldiers and civilians."
His voice softened.
"To give them safety."
"To give them security."
"To give them a roof under which they could live."
The Alliance leaders exchanged glances.
Many had expected a demand.
Others had expected a request for military assistance.
Yet there had been none.
It was painfully obvious that Sylvanas did not possess the shameless arrogance displayed by portions of the older High Elven nobility.
Sylvanas Windrunner had already prepared herself to die.
The only thing she had asked of her friend was that her people be granted refuge after the likely loss of their kingdom.
Alastor felt his agitation grow.
He silently cursed Sylvanas's stubborn loyalty.
The woman was asking this of him as though she had already accepted her own death.
Then Lor'themar turned toward Alastor.
To the shock of nearly everyone present, the proud High Elf dropped to one knee.
Several Alliance leaders visibly stiffened.
High Elves were famously proud.
For one to kneel so openly was not a small gesture.
"King Kael'thas also asked me to deliver a message."
Lor'themar lowered his head.
"A message Lady Sylvanas was unaware of."
His voice wavered.
"He requested..."
For a moment, he struggled to continue.
Then he forced the words out.
"No."
His jaw tightened.
"I requested it as well."
"And so does every High Elf present."
Lor'themar looked directly at Alastor.
"We beg you."
"Send help north."
"Many things that should never have happened have happened."
"We know many among you hold little goodwill toward us because of our actions—and the actions of our former king."
"But we beg you regardless."
"King Kael'thas made one thing abundantly clear."
Lor'themar slowly lifted his head.
There was determination in his eyes.
But also desperation.
The look of a man who had reached the end of the road and found nowhere left to retreat.
"If Quel'Thalas is saved..."
The entire tent seemed to hold its breath.
"Then henceforth, the High Elves will answer to you Alastor Wrynn."
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