Wielding the Stars to Craft War (Warcraft/Starcraft)

Between the myriad of problems brought about from the downsized internment camps, and the growing isolation of several Alliance member states, Terenas was not in the mood to receive any further difficulties.

Unfortunately, a court mage had to deliver an urgent message from Alterac, sent by Uther of all people. It was far from good news.

Demons had been caught not just trying to infiltrate the kingdom (in a cathedral no less!) but they were in the process of enthralling both the paladin and Arthas if not for King Kyle’s intervention. The rest of the report painted a bloody and dreadful picture, but Terenas clung to one particular fact:

His son had been the target of demons.

Arthas, the crown prince, the golden prince of Lordaeron, was a victim of actual demonic schemes.

Even as Terenas immediately acted on the information, calling on Archbishop Alonsus for further advice, as well as reallocating what the kingdom could afford to increase security, that one fact remained on the good king’s mind. His son had run afoul of demons, and his soul almost damned irrevocably.

He would be enraged if not for the fact that Uther had little information to provide a suspect to direct his wrath upon. The merchants the demons wore as a cover had proclaimed themselves Stromgardians, yet they were encountered in the west, closer to Gilneas. Had the demons truly come from Stromgarde or were they also trying to infiltrate the kingdom, after being done with Alterac?

Could Gilneas be the source then? 

No. Genn had been carefully balancing his increasing isolationist stance with proving his realm’s value as a trade partner. With the sudden surge of food exports from Gilneas to Lordaeron and Kul Tiras, Terenas shared his court’s opinion that Genn was trying to pay off his kingdom’s obligations to the Alliance. For him to dabble with dark magics was an unnecessary risk; the ensuing chaos would see prices heavily regulated to ensure that the whole of the Alliance would be sufficiently supplied. And with the borders now put on higher alert, Gilnean grain profits would already take a hit.

Genn was too wily to be that stupid.

Perhaps it was Kyle being duplicitous and trying to undermine and frame others?

There was not enough evidence to point the finger anywhere. From Uther’s accounts, the king of Alterac had personally called out and faced the demon’s leader, and received a threat in return. His realm’s defenders had suffered a bloody toll that day, and if left untended his people might break into hysterics, plunging Alterac into frenzied chaos of paranoia. Besides, if Kyle really was complicit in this, he’d be better off letting the demon continue its beguilement of Arthas instead of stopping it.

Instead, not only did he reveal the demons’ existence, he expunged their corruption from Arthas’ mind and soul, freeing the crown prince of Lordaeron from their influence. As eccentric as the mage-king was, Terenas doubted that the boy’s plans would twist so much as to hamper himself so greatly to achieve a goal.

And while it was easy to pin it on them, the likelihood of the remaining orc marauders being responsible were unfortunately low as well. Back in the Second War, they required altars and portals and sacrifices to bring demons through. Demons that were, according to Uther’s report, of a significantly weaker variant than these…‘dreadlords’.

Terenas didn’t want to believe it could be Thoras. Though their friendship had deteriorated, the king of Lordaeron still held his Stromgarde peer with the highest respect, and knew that the warrior king would not countenance anything dabbling with the arcane, let alone demonic.

Something was missing in this puzzle, something that eluded his and his court’s understanding. 

Yet, frustratingly, even if he knew the true culprit behind all of this, Terenas also knew that he was ultimately powerless. These new demons had kept their disguise right under Uther’s nose, and had subtly beguiled both he and Arthas throughout their journey right until Kyle revealed them.

Faith in the Light was not enough to protect the paladins. At least not yet.

It would be a nightmare trying to hunt down the demons’ master if they had more such infiltrators ready to sabotage and subvert any punitive effort. Lordaeron would require the aid of the expertise from Dalaran and Alterac to seek satisfaction.

A shame Terenas could not convince Kyle to accept a betrothal to Calia… 

Understandably, the royal court of Lordaeron focused their efforts in guarding the kingdom against future demonic infiltration. As such, other minor crises were relegated to the sidelines or pushed to a quicker resolution. 

News of a new plague spreading in the west, deep in the Silverpine Forest, fell into the former category, at least after Terenas was sure that the symptoms of the plague did not seem otherworldly and was assured that its spread was slow. It was an affliction of weakness that rendered peasants and livestock incapable of much beyond crawling. The origins of the disease has yet to be found, but suspicions were laid on rotten food or another strain of fleas or ticks, rather than esoteric demonic corruption. Healing priests of the Light, alchemists and herbalists were already dispatched to investigate the matter, so the court would have to await their report either way before further action could be made beyond a quarantine.

The internment camps though fell into the latter category. With the cuts in funding, crowding the orc prisoners into smaller and smaller spaces to make do with limited resources was proving to be an untenable situation. All it took was a marauding band of fugitive orcs to strike at a camp and rouse their fellows and the overwhelmingly outnumbered garrison of guards would be overwhelmed by the savages. At best, the wardens would be forced to hole up in their keeps and allow their captives to break free, and add to the dangerously growing Warsong warband. At worst, they would be slaughtered to a man, and the inhabitants of nearby villages would follow soon after.

Compassion could not be afforded anymore.

With heavy reluctance, Terenas ordered for a culling of the interned orcs, to bring the prisoner population down to manageable numbers while preventing the Horde remnants to garner more recruits. It was a hard choice, caused partially by his own decisions. But as king of Lordaeron, Terenas ultimately had a duty to ensure his realm’s wellbeing.

Plagues and captive invaders would have to take a back seat when there was a demonic threat whose reach was yet unknown and was - currently, at least - unharmed by the Light’s touch.

*****

Anasterian frowned with genuine concern at the cowled figure before him. He had guesses as to the true nature of the aptly named Azure Wardens, but as decreed in secret by his forefather and the first king and founder of Quel’Thalas, Dath’Remar Sunstrider, any inquisition of the secretive brotherhood was forbidden, and any knowledge kept strictly to a single enchanted scroll kept by the royal family. At the same time, the words of the Wardens were to be considered with all seriousness and without doubt.

To break this decree was to invite ruination into not only the Sunstrider dynasty, but the entirety of the high elves as a race as well.

Yet up until now, there had been no need to call that decree into question, as there had been no encounter with the Azure Wardens. Even Anasterian’s father and grandfather had not been honored by a visit in their lifetimes, to the point where Anasterian had deemed the Azure Wardens a myth of some sort.

But here was one of them right now, appearing out of thin air in his study unannounced and undetected. She delivered her message through a burst of densely-packed telepathy, sending the elven king reeling. Anasterian gritted his teeth and struggled to remain standing as his mind was forced to process hours worth of information in a fraction of a second. He fought not only to unpack, but also store the knowledge as it all flashed through his mind. 

Fel influences in Northrend that were being purged and contained with arcane fire, but with potential fugitives that might make their way south to Quel’Thalas.

Humans subverted by a demon that had escaped the containment, revealed only through the frustratingly unknown insight of the young mage-king.

Said demon trapped and interrogated, revealing very little, too little to offer any clues, but enough to be of concern to even the isolationist Anasterian.

The disturbing miasma of corruption to the west, its source yet unknown as there were not enough blue-robed investigators to cover far too much ground.

Every blast of information led to a terrifying conclusion: Invasion.

The Burning Legion was making its return.

“I…I understand,” he finally whispered, and the intruder gave a nod and then vanished just as suddenly as she arrived.

As he rushed out to summon his advisors to begin shoring up the defense of the realm, Anasterian absently wondered if this was what the young human Kyle had been experiencing. Had the Wardens, or similar groups, guided him and his kingdom?

*****

“What is the truth to this?” Thoras roared, barely restraining his rage as he stared at his spymaster.

Word had trickled from merchants and travelers of demons in Alterac, threatening not only the upstart King Kyle, but also Lord Uther, Prince Arthas and Princess Jaina who all happened to be there.

Demons!

Demons…disguised as Stromgardian merchants.

“While the tale varies as rumors are wont to do, your highness,” Lord Rathorn evenly replied, “the main details have proven consistent; Lord Uther and Prince Arthas unwittingly joined the masked demons as they traveled east to Alterac, where they sat witness in a cathedral’s consecration. King Kyle stormed in to reveal the demons, and at the same time revealed that the prince had been beguiled by Fel magics. A bloodbath ensued, but through the sacrifice of many warriors, the demons were felled. Weakened by the Light wielded by Lord Uther and a bishop, King Kyle himself felled the demon’s leader, lifting the ensorcellment on Prince Arthas.”

There was a rising murmur from Thoras’ court, and he let it build as he fell into thought.

First the gnolls, and now actual demons claiming Stromgardian origins. Any doubts that someone was trying to set Thoras up were now banished. The problem now was finding the damned bastard responsible.

“Why are we only hearing this now?” the king demanded as he tempered his rage, though he already guessed the answer.

The spymaster’s gaze shifted away with mild shame. “There is speculation that the court of Alterac worries of how…compromised our kingdom might be. King Kyle has not laid any blame at our feet, but it is clear that he currently has little reason to trust us to even deliver a message.”

Mutterings of outrage rose up from the nobles at the embedded accusation that Stromgarde could be under the influence of demons.

Yet Thoras couldn’t blame Kyle. If anything, the warrior king was thankful for his younger counterpart’s restraint. He knew how it must look to outsiders: with the gnoll incursion and demonic infiltration, it’d be easy to simply say that Stromgarde had fallen under demonic enthrallment, or that someone was playing its court as fools to freely do as they pleased under Thoras’ nose. It’d be reason enough for Kyle to seek satisfaction through force of arms, and with testimonies from Uther, Arthas and Jaina, Alterac would likely see support from the other kingdoms of the Alliance.

But Kyle instead has kept silent, either as a minimal show of trust of Thoras’ character, or a sign of how weak Alterac’s standing forces were

Thoras would like to think it was the former.

Regardless, the fact remained that someone was trying to damn his kingdom’s reputation.

With a soft snarl, Thoras rose from his seat and turned to his son. “Galen! The gnolls, have you still found nothing about them? Any clue at all?”

Galen stepped forth and knelt before the throne, bowing his head as a sign of shame. “Still nothing of note, father. We’ve only ascertained several possible encampments, but no hard evidence of who ordered them west into Alterac, or how they got the mangy brutes to carry the gold with them throughout the entire journey.”

Thoras was about to grunt in annoyance when he recalled something. 

“How do you know they were told to carry the gold?”

There were rumors that gold had been found on the gnolls, and while many speculated about why the gnolls were paid in something inedible, or how they were fooled into doing so. But not once has Thoras heard about the gnolls being told to carry the gold.

Galen stiffened a bit. “Ah…I heard someone suggest that it was likely the only reason gnolls could be found with such gold. It made sense, as the savages don’t value good coin.”

It did…if Thoras’ son didn’t sound so unconvincing. “Galen.” The king of Stromgarde glared down at his heir. “What have you found?”

The crown prince gave a sigh before finally lifting his head up to meet his father’s eyes, and Thoras gasped at the glowing green eyes staring back at him.

“I’ve found that I tire of this charade, father.”

Galen rose up with a lop-sided smirk, and as Thoras’ sights were locked onto his son drawing a crooked dagger, he heard the commotion coming from all around the throne room. Out of the edge of his vision, he saw some of the guards lowering their spears or drawing their blades with intent, while their colleagues stared on in confusion. Most of the nobles were similarly at a loss as events unfolded before them, though a few - the younger scions, the back of Thoras’ mind noted - also unsheathed daggers like Galen.

For some reason, Thoras was rooted to the ground, unable to move away from the throne as his son advanced towards him, his mind refusing to comprehend the ugly truth of what was happening.

“Galen…wh-what are you doing?”

His son’s green eyes bore into him, and Galen’s smirk grew into something feral as he raised his dagger.

“Succeeding you, father.”

As the slaughter in the throne room began, King Thoras was too stunned to join the screaming, even when his soul was wrenched out of his body by his son’s cursed dagger.