A Nerubian's Journey

King Terenas Menethil II hummed in contemplation as he watched the large scrying mirror as it displayed images of the strange spiderlike creatures currently being escorted through his city from above. The mirror was not as advanced as the scrying tools that Quel’thalas used, having a limited range and requiring the continuous efforts of a mage for it to serve its function, but it was more than enough for the nobles and heads of state currently in his imperial chamber.

When Capital City’s Guard Captain first received news from a minor noble house of strange creatures sailing to the Eastern Kingdoms from Northrend, he had thought it to be absurd and didn’t even bother bringing it to the attention of his superiors. It was only out of a sense of duty and professionalism that the Guard Captain felt compelled to send a Gryphon rider to verify the truth or the falsehood of the matter.

After the scout returned with frantic reports of gigantic spider-like creatures making their way to Capital City, the Guard Captain hurriedly brought the matter to Falric, the young captain of Lordaeron’s Kingsguard, who then brought the matter to Terenas.

He had quickly ordered his Court Conjurors to scry the creatures with their magic and his spymaster to immediately begin gathering as much information as he could before the creatures arrived at Capital City. Fortunately, the original messenger sent by House Ashfort had still not yet left the city and also had a wealth of information to share with them. Lord Ashfort had been wise enough to gather information about the creatures from the crew of the ship that carried them to the Eastern Kingdoms, as well as the individuals who had traveled to their underground kingdom.

After his spymaster finished compiling the information and presented it to Terenas, it quickly became apparent to him that establishing peaceful diplomatic contact with this ‘Azjol-Nerub’ would be one of the most important moments of his kingship.

If the accounts were true, then Azjol-Nerub was easily a kingdom on par with Quel'thalas, and the impact they would have on the Eastern Kingdoms had the potential to be enormous. Not to mention the fact that they could not afford to make such a powerful kingdom their enemy at a time when they were already facing an existential crisis in the form of the Horde.

It was for these reasons and more that Terenas did not hesitate to make his fellow rulers aware of the situation and share all the information that Lordaeron had gathered.

The reactions had been… passionate.

Nobody reacted well after learning that another potential crisis was barreling toward them, and many of the initial proposals on how to deal with the creatures had been overly impulsive.

Terenas was eventually able to make them see that calm and peaceful diplomacy was in their best interests, but nobody was excited about the kingdom of terrifying spiderpeople that threatened to throw the continent’s situation into further chaos.

Terenas turned his gaze away from the mirror, evaluating the expressions and reactions of his fellow rulers who were currently seated along the room in seats that had been verified by a mage to be exactly the same size.

Each of them had enough experience and training in politics to be able to hide their feelings from most observers, but Terenas was an old and experienced king and was more than able to see through their masks.

The first person he looked to was a tall, stoic man dressed in leathers and furs who looked as if he would rather be marching toward a battlefield than attending a diplomatic meeting.

His old friend, King Thoras Trollbane of Stromgarde, was especially easy to read given how well Terenas knew the man. Many dismissed Thoras as a brute due to his gruff exterior and Stromgarde’s martial culture, but Terenas knew well that his friend possessed a sharp mind. While his fellow king was outwardly expressionless, Terenas could tell that Thoras was already considering how best to kill the monstrous twenty-foot-tall spider-beetle creature that was currently being displayed in the scrying mirror.

Thoras was the kind of ruler who would hope to avoid war but believed it to be inevitable and would thus do everything he could to prepare for it. A fact that was consistently proven in his mind by Stromgarde’s constant skirmishes with the forest trolls and Alterac.

Seated next to him was a tall, slender man with weathered skin and wearing a green naval uniform; this man would be recognizable to anybody as Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, ruler of Kul’tiras.

While Admiral Proudmoore was no less disturbed than the rest of them by the existence of the creatures, Terenas could see that the man held much less tension in his shoulders than the rest of them. This did not surprise him; as far as Admiral Proudmoore was concerned, any problem that could be solved by the Kul’tiran navy and its Tidesages was not a problem worth being troubled over.

It was highly unlikely that an underground kingdom like Azjol-Nerub, similarly to the gnomes and dwarfs, possessed any naval power worth noting, and their decision to hire the Sea Cutter to travel to the Eastern Kingdoms supported that assumption.

Unfortunately, the next ruler, a tall and cadaverously thin man with a long gray beard and a bald head covered by a gold-edged skullcap, was much harder to read. Archmage Antonidas, Grand Magus of the Kirin Tor and widely recognized to be one of the most powerful mages alive, was not a king, but he was no less influential than any of the other rulers in the room.

Terenas was well familiar with the man, but he still could not get a good read on what the old mage was thinking. Though given the interested hum the man let out when—for a single terrifying moment—one of the taller robe-wearing creatures turned its gaze upward and seemed to directly look back at them through the mirror, Terenas would assume the man was feeling curious.

Next, seated on the other side of the room, was a large, bearish man with thick features, a heavy black beard, and wearing black and gray armor. Genn Greymane, king of Gilneas, was not a particularly pleasant man, in Terenas’s opinion. He was stubborn, proud, strong-willed, arrogant, and was one of the rulers most resistant to forming an alliance to combat the Horde.

Greymane’s expression was the easiest to read of the gathered rulers, given his poorly concealed revulsion as he stared at the creatures. Terenas had no doubt in his mind that Gilneas would want absolutely nothing to do with Azjol-Nerub, regardless of whether or not their supposedly peaceful intentions were genuine.

The next king, a quiet, cultured-looking man with graying brown hair, was the only other ruler as opposed to forming an alliance as Greymane.

‘I believe this is the first time that I’ve looked at him since this council began that he was not glaring hatefully at Thoras,’ Terenas mused.

King Aiden Perenolde was the ruler of Alterac, a weak landlocked kingdom that found itself in frequent conflict with Stromgarde. Perenolde was doing his best to hide it, but Terenas could tell that the man was extremely interested in the creatures, and would not hesitate to find a way to use them to his advantage as best he could.

The final member of the recently dubbed Council of Seven Nations was a large, stout man, almost bald, who wore a full set of armor and possessed a thick beard and a strong, stern face. Anduin Lothar, Knight Champion and Regent Lord of the destroyed kingdom of Stormwind, was a man who looked as if he had lost everything aside from his life.

When he wasn’t busy giving fiery speeches in an attempt to convince them of the Horde’s threat and the need to unite against them the man barely looked as if he was keeping himself together, and the young black-haired teenager currently sitting by his side did not look much better.

Crown Prince Varian Wrynn had spent the past few days since arriving in Capital City barely looking as if he was aware of where he was. When the boy wasn’t staring off blankly into space, he was swinging between unfathomable sorrow as he struggled not to cry, unbridled wrath whenever they spoke of the Orcs, or, more worryingly, poorly concealed resentment.

Even if his current expression was one of curiosity as he watched the nerubians through the scrying mirror.

It did not take a genius to guess that the child blamed the other human kingdoms for failing to aid Stormwind in their time of greatest need. Terenas had pledged Lordaeron’s forces to the goal of pushing back the Horde and restoring young Wrynn to his kingdom’s throne, but he knew that did little to ease the child’s pain of seeing both his parents killed and his countrymen senselessly slaughtered.

The future king’s resentment was a troubling sign, and bode ill for the future of Stormwind's relationship with the other kingdoms.

Terenas decided to do something about the matter now, while it was still on his mind, and tapped a single finger to his wrist.

Recognizing the nonverbal signal, his spymaster, Tafari Anwir, seamlessly appeared at his side as if he had stepped out of thin air.

A few of the other rulers glanced at him but quickly turned their attention back to the scrying mirror after assessing that there was no threat.

Terenas rubbed his thumb against the enchanted ring which would prevent unwanted listeners from hearing their conversation and leaned over to speak with his spymaster. Not only did the ring prevent eavesdroppers, but it even prevented anyone from reading his lips, allowing Terenas to have private conversations in public settings.

Despite this, Terenas could not quite overcome the instinct to whisper whenever he was giving sensitive instructions to his spymaster while others were around.

“Tafari, after the meeting, arrange for Arthas to meet the young Wrynn and do what you can to foster a friendship between the two of them.”

“The two are already scheduled to meet later this week, Your Majesty,” said Tefari, his tone not expressing any particular opinion on the matter. “Is there a need for me to move it up? And for me to make efforts in ensuring a friendship?”

“Yes, if the two of them have a good relationship, then that would do much to diminish the future risks caused by the boy’s resentment,” Terenas said quietly.

A small part of him felt guilty about manipulating a friendship between his son and a grief-stricken child for political purposes, but there was no such thing as a king who had ruled for as long as he had without being willing to make difficult decisions.

Besides, both of the boys could benefit from having a friend in their lives, so it was beneficial and for the good of everybody.

“I shall entrust the matter to you,” said Terenas. Tafari was a competent man and would know how best to arrange it for the two boys to form a lasting friendship.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Tafari, deferentially.

“Good. While we are speaking on the topic of the boy’s resentment, has there been any progress in that investigation?” asked Terenas, hoping that he would finally have some answers about the source of Lordaeron’s enormous intelligence failure in regard to the Horde.

Despite Tafari's unchanging expression, Terenas could easily hear the annoyance and anger in his spymaster’s tone when he responded.

“No, Your Majesty, there has not,” said Tafari. “We are reasonably certain that someone has been making active efforts over the past few years to spread rumors among the nobility that Stormwind was merely lying about their situation in an attempt to hide internal conflicts. However, we are no closer to finding the source of these rumors, and even Stormwind’s most earnest supporters among the nobility give conflicting descriptions of who they heard them from.”

That was highly concerning to Terenas and implied that there were dangerous forces in Lordaeron working against the kingdom’s interests.

“Are there no indications at all of who might be responsible for this?” asked Terenas.

“No, Your Majesty,” said Tafari, grudgingly. “We have noticed that one of Stormwind’s own intelligence operatives is looking into the matter, but we do not expect them to achieve any more than we have, nor do we expect them to trust us enough to share what they do discover.”

Terenas frowned, saddened by the news, for it was as understandable as it was, he could not help but feel disheartened.

From what his spymaster reported back to him it was only pure desperation that made the Stormwind refugees come to his kingdom, and if they had any other choice they would have gone elsewhere. There were few among them who trusted Lordaeron, or any outsiders, after being seemingly left out in the cold to die and who only now cared since now the Horde was most likely pointed at them. The Prince’s mood was a feeling shared by a vast majority of his people, something that did not bode well for the future in general.

Thank the Light that Sir Lothar still believed in Lordaeron’s honor and, despite everything, Stormwind’s people still trusted their Champion.

Feeling that there was not much else to be said on the topic, Terenas dismissed his spymaster and turned his attention back to the scrying mirror, and the conversation being had about the creatures from Northrend.

“And these creatures just happened to come before us just after the Horde destroyed Stormwind? Just as they are predicted to begin preparing to come north to invade the rest of us?” King Greymane was, unsurprisingly, voicing his suspicions with a sneer.

“Do not let your fear and paranoia make connections that aren’t there, Greymane. Sometimes coincidences do occur, and besides, there is no information to support even the idea that these nerubians and the Horde were even aware of each other until recently,” Archmage Antonidas, ever the bastion of logic and reason, was quick to point out, his tone that of a teacher correcting a student as he continued to study the beings within the scrying mirror.

“From the information made available to us, these nerubians would be formidable enemies,” said Thoras, his tone assessing. “We have a responsibility to our people to prepare for the worst-case scenarios.”

“We also have a responsibility to our people to not ignore such significant opportunities, Trollbane,” said King Perenolde derisively, the name ‘Trollbane’ leaving his mouth as if it were a curse. “How much wealth and resources could we acquire if we manage to establish trading ties with a kingdom as rich as Quel'thalas? Lordaeron, more than any other kingdom here, has grown rich from sharing such close borders with the high elves after all, even while trade remains limited.”

“You would trade with monsters?” said King Greymane, his voice filled with disgust.

“Who cares whether or not they are monsters, as long as they can make my kingdom rich,” said King Perenolde, waving a hand dismissively. “I only barely believe that these so-called ‘orcs’ are the mindless beasts that some claim they are, so you’ll hardly convince me that these nerubians are also unable to be reasoned with. As long as a creature has wants and is capable of reason, then a cultured man can find a way to benefit from them.”

“I grow tired of your continued implications, King Perenolde,” said Lothar, practically growling out the words. “The orcs are savage monsters who cannot be reasoned with, diplomacy with them is utterly impossible, and I will not sit here and listen to you imply that I am a liar.”

“Says the man who trusted one of said orcs, did you not?” King Perenolde pointed out. “Clearly you thought the same, and your error was just not being smart enough to figure out you were being played rather than the other way around.”

The Champion’s expression twisted into one of pain and anger as he slammed his armored hands onto the arm of his chair and rose from his seat, causing many in the room to jump in shock.

“And look what that has cost me!” roared Lothar, his voice filled with rage and sorrow. “Will you see your kingdom burned and your people slaughtered in your foolish quest to avoid a war that is inevitable?!”

Terenas’s heart clenched in sympathy as he watched young Varian struggle to control his expression and hold back tears.

Just as the tension in the room was reaching its peak, a short, stout man with a snow-white beard and a friendly face calmed everyone down as soon as he started speaking.

“Please, everyone, there is no need for us to fight among ourselves when humanity is depending on our cooperation,” said Alonsus Faol, Archbishop of the Church of the Holy Light and likely the most revered human on Azeroth.

While he was no king, he had been allowed to sit in on their discussions as a leader in his own right of one of the largest and most influential organizations in the Eastern Kingdoms. The Church had already done much to tend to the needs of the Stormwind refugees once they made landfall in Lordaeron, and had pledged their considerable resources to help humanity withstand the coming crisis.

The room was quiet for a moment before King Perenolde broke the silence.

“You are correct of course, Archbishop,” King Perenolde said deferentially. “I apologize for my words, Sir Luthor. These are stressful times and I’m afraid I said something inappropriate.”

Luthor stared balefully at King Perenolde for a few more seconds before retaking his seat.

“I’m not sure why you’re all so worried,” said Admiral Proudmoore, speaking into the awkward silence. “If these nerubians reveal themselves to be a threat, then Kul’tiras will ensure that they never again set foot outside of Northrend. They, after all, likely have no navy to speak of and Northrend is not exactly known for its timber.”

“Let us not plan for anything until we at least meet our coming guests,” Terenas spoke up. “If peaceful relations can be established with them then they might even be able to assist in helping us combat the Horde.”

“Not that we’ve even established if Gilneas even wants part in this mad idea,” King Greymane growled, causing King Perenolde to nod to himself in agreement while the rest of the kings glared daggers at the only holdouts.

“They have nearly arrived,” Archmage Antonidas noted calmly.

Everyone turned their attention back to the scrying mirror to see that the nerubian delegation had reached the entrance to the royal palace. The creatures seemed to have paused, as while his palace was built more than large enough to accommodate the majority of the nerubians, the largest one was a tad too large to fit through the entranceway.

For some reason, they seemed to be arguing with the female gnome from the Explorer’s League as she pointed to some kind of device strapped to her side…

While the palace was enormous by human standards, House Menethil had not exactly built their palace with the assumption that they would be hosting such massive creatures, after all. Something like this would normally be an annoying problem that would have likely resulted in them being forced to bring the meeting elsewhere, but that was not the case when one had the aid of the Dalaran’s Grand Magus.

Terenas watched as the Archmage rose from his seat, gripped his ornate wooden staff, and cast a spell that’s effect emanated from the imperial chamber to the entrance of the palace. Terenas watched in wonder as space twisted and expanded until the entrance, and presumably the hallways, was large enough to accommodate the giant creature. It was something the nerubians were quick to notice and, based on what little they could tell from their body language, looked quite surprised before they proceeded.

None of the other rulers were mages, but they all knew enough about magic to be filled with awe at the Archmage’s display of magical might.

“A very effective show of force, Archmage,” said King Perenolde after taking a moment to compose himself. “I’m sure that will do much to dissuade the nerubians from taking any hostile actions.”

For the first time, Terenas agreed with the opportunistic man.

The room quieted down as a servant moved to take the scrying mirror out of the imperial chambers, and the rulers waited for the nerubians to arrive.

It did not take very long before four of the creatures were walking into the imperial chamber—Terenas assumed the rest were not essential for diplomacy and were made to wait in the hall outside–-and the various rulers of the Eastern Kingdoms were taking their first look at the nerubians in person.

All three of the robed nerubians along with the one that was too large to enter the imperial chamber under normal circumstances were much more terrifying up close.

It was immediately apparent to everyone that the scrying mirror did not do them proper justice.

Terenas turned his attention to the tall, four-armed and four-legged, robed nerubians, who were apparently referred to as ‘Viziers’ according to the information provided by the messenger. They were the ones that were supposedly in charge of the delegation, so he would address them when he spoke.

Fortunately, Archmage Antonidas had already used his magic to ensure that any words said in the imperial chambers would be translated to everyone else.

“Welcome to Lordaeron,” said Terenas before introducing himself and then each of the important figures in the room with him, then moving to ask the question that was on everybody’s mind.

“We have been told that you come to us as representatives of a previously unknown kingdom of Northrend, referred to as Azjol-Nerub,” said Terenas, regally. “And that you seek to establish peaceful diplomatic ties with the kingdoms of this continent. Is that true?”

After a moment of silence, the smallest of the so-called Viziers stepped forward to speak.

“That is indeed the case, King Menethil,” the creature said politely. “I am Vizier Krivax. With me are Vizier Hadix, Vizier Crinis, and Spiderlord Anub’rekhan.” The Vizier gestured to each of the apparent leaders of the delegation as he introduced them.

“We come with peaceful intentions and hopes that a diplomatic connection between our people will allow for us to learn more of one another,” said Vizier Krivax. “And that we might find areas of cooperation from which we could mutually benefit.”

“Why have we never heard of you before?” asked King Greymane, not bothering to hide his suspicion. “Seems like an awfully strange coincidence that you all arrive at the same time that we’re facing an army of monsters from the south.”

“I assure you, King Greymane, this is indeed merely a coincidence,” said Vizier Krivax quickly. “Until recently, Azjol-Nerub was not aware that there were any lands outside of Northrend that survived the Great Sundering. After realizing this was not the case, a diplomatic delegation was organized that would be sent to learn more about the Eastern Kingdoms.”

King Greymane’s expression was one of obvious skepticism, but he did not speak further.

“Do you intend to establish a settlement on this continent?” asked King Trollbane, his eyes assessing as he stared at the Vizier.

“We currently have no such intentions, King Trollbane,” said Vizier Hadix. “If that changes, then we will, of course, discuss the matter with the people of these lands first.”

“Are you hoping to establish some manner of a trade agreement?” asked King Perenolde, cutting off Thoras from asking any follow-up questions. “According to House Ashfort, your people’s silk is of the highest quality and holds valuable magical properties. I’m sure we could reach some manner of understanding if you are willing to trade such materials.”

Vizier Krivax seemed to hesitate before he next spoke.

“The purpose of this delegation is for us to establish diplomatic contact and for our people to learn more about each other,” said Vizier Krivax. “Any future decisions beyond must first undergo the thorough consideration of our kingdom's leaders.”

Terenas had spoken to enough elvish diplomats to know that the Vizier’s words did not paint a good picture of Azjol-Nerub’s interest in establishing a trade deal.

Looking at King Perenolde’s expression, he had also reached the same conclusion.

“I’m sure that we have any number of materials that your leaders might be interested in,” said King Perenolde, attempting to persuade the foreign diplomats. “The Eastern Kingdoms are a big place, after all. There must be something here that your people would find valuable.”

“Azjol-Nerub does not want for material objects, human,” spoke the massive creature that had been introduced as Anub’rekhan. Its voice was deep, and Terenas could hear the disturbing sounds of harsh buzzing and clicking sounds through the translation spell. “Anything this continent has to offer us will come in the form of knowledge, such as the opportunity to learn more of your so-called ‘Light.’”

Archbishop Faol sat up in his seat and a gentle smile spread across his face.

“Your people are not familiar with the Light? And you are interested in learning more?”

“Yes. It seems like a useful form of magic,” said Anub’rekhan, his tone one of interest. “Azjol-Nerub would benefit from access to magic so well suited to healing wounds.”

“The Holy Light is not a mere tool,” Archbishop Faol said disapprovingly. “If you treat it in such a way, it will never answer your call. But the Church is always willing to spread its knowledge to those who are willing to learn.”

Terenas listened as the discussion continued on like that for some time, each of the rulers questioning the nerubians about their intentions. As he was listening to Perenolde once again try to convince the nerubians to trade with his kingdom, Terenas noticed Archmage Antonidas having a staring match with the one called Vizier Hadix.

If he was remembering correctly, that was the same Vizier that had seemed to notice their scrying.

Vizier Crinis, meanwhile, was ignoring the conversation completely and was instead busy studying the imperial chamber’s magically expanded entrance.

Ironically, the displays served to reassure Terenas; if the mages of these strange spider people were as arrogant and competitive as human mages, then could these nerubians really be so different?

“Does your interest in knowledge extend to more conventional magic?” Archmage Antonidas asked slyly. “Perhaps you would be interested in coming to Dalaran, where we could compare our understanding of the arcane.”

“I suppose we could take the time to inspect your city,” said Vizier Hadix, haughtily. “It should be an amusing diversion if nothing else.”

“If I might interrupt, I do not believe this is a discussion that can be finished in a single day,” said Terenas, drawing everyone’s attention to himself. “And it would be unkind to keep the rest of your delegation waiting out in the hall. I propose that we see to your accommodations, and then continue this discussion tomorrow. My Majordomo has prepared suitable arrangements for you all to stay in the palace.”

Terenas had not liked the idea at first, who would want such strange and potentially dangerous creatures near their family, but Captain Falric had quickly convinced him that this was the best course of action.

Due to the ongoing Council of Seven Nations, the palace was likely the safest and most heavily guarded location in the Eastern Kingdoms outside of Quel'thalas itself. Security was at its maximum, and every single inch of the palace was covered by powerful wards and hidden guards vigilantly watching everyone walking in and out of the building.

Not to mention the fact that each of the kings had brought their kingdom’s most powerful mages and warriors to accompany them.

If the nerubians were able to successfully commit hostile actions in such an environment, then there was little that they could do to stop them anyway.

The nerubian delegation and the various rulers quickly agreed to his proposal, everyone notably tired from the long and eventful day. House Menethil’s Majordomo quickly moved to show the nerubians to their accommodations, his mask of professionalism not breaking for a moment as he escorted the terrifying creatures. Most of the nerubians would be given lodgings in the same wing as the rest of the foreign diplomats, but the Spiderlord would need to be given accommodations outside of the palace.

Terenas sighed in relief as he gave his farewells to the last of the important figures, and began making his way to his private chambers alongside his personal guards. Today was a long day, and Terenas was reaching an age where he savored the opportunity to rest whenever he could.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling that such opportunities would grow more and more rare in the near future.