Wielding the Stars to Craft War (Warcraft/Starcraft)

With freed merchants from Stromgarde’s dungeons providing their macabre testimonies, and the interrogation from the few captive Stromgardian nobles, the upper classes of Stromgarde seemed to have fallen far into damnation. The admission from two of Galen’s inner circle of Thoras’ assassination by his own son had supposedly riled up the court of Alterac with disgust when it was first reported. Here in Lordaeron, the reaction was much stronger. 

Whatever his relations with Terenas Menethil, Thoras Trollbane was a respected warrior and king. He did not deserve being betrayed by his own heir. Arthas felt bitter grief and his father went sheet pale when Kyle had presented the testimonies through a magical ‘recording’, backed up by the word of Ranger Captain Ariande who had been present during interrogations. 

That Galen had the audacity to turn the subjects of his kingdom’s allies into livestock to feed his ghastly appetite had roused the court of Lordaeron to anger, especially when hearing of it through the mouth of a blank-eyed survivor. 

Even with the ministrations of Alteraci priests, the rescued merchant carried a heavy veil of despair on him. He skittishly fidgeted in place, rubbing at his arms and the small scars on his neck. His account of being bled out while Stromgardian nobles lapped up his blood like fine wine had made Uther, who stood by Arthas, visibly shift in anger. The monotone, vivid descriptions of how prisoners who were bled dry were carefully cut open for their organs to be harvested as delicacies caused several courtiers to flee the throne room or outright faint on the spot.

After the merchant was dismissed into the care of a high priest, King Menethil called off the other witness testimonies, and skipped straight onto thanking Kyle for the prompt return of the kidnapped Lordaeron subjects. No mention was made of the fact that arcane teleportation was used to bring them and the Alteraci mage-king straight to the palace’s doorstep little over a day since the seizing of Stromgarde’s capital.

“On behalf of the kingdom of Lordaeron, I thank you, King Kyle, for your decisive intervention. Moreover, I must express my deepest apologies for not seriously heeding your concerns when you first presented it to us.”

Unsurprisingly, Kyle casually shrugged away the formal apology, though Arthas was grateful that the mage-king had the courtesy to refrain from any overt displays of vindictiveness.

“It is understandable, we did not have solid proof back then, and it is inconceivable for many to trust the words of a stranger over the reputation of a close friend.” Kyle then frowned sourly. “It’s a shame that beyond the fact that Galen and his court had succumbed to a demon’s temptation, we know little else about their plans.”

The reminder that there was more to just Stromgarde set everyone on edge. Arthas was aware that the high elves up north were still battling against demons, to the point where dragons had intervened. King Anasterian had not called for aid as far as the prince knew, but for the first time in recorded history elven refugees were reported fleeing their homelands into Lordaeron. While only a trickle, according to Uther, the event occurring at all was still a significant one.

And to the west, the disturbing claims from Dalaran that the Withering Plague was spread by Gilneas could doubtlessly be linked to Stromgarde and Quel’Thalas. In Arthas’ mind, Genn Greymane has been corrupted no less than Galen Trollbane was.

Kyle waited for the consternation to abate before he addressed the court of Lordaeron again. “I therefore request again that Lordaeron permit Alterac intervention into dealing with its orc problem.” 

There was little surprise from the request, and Arthas was sure that there were some in the throne room that would gladly accept the help offered over the orcs. He’d not seen it himself, but apparently Kyle had dealt with Galen and the entirety of Stromgarde’s corrupted nobility literally overnight. Arthas welcomed implementing such power in bringing a swift end to the orcs, it’d mean that he and Uther and the other Knights of the Silver Hand need not exhaust themselves chasing after the irritatingly elusive Horde remnants.

Too many villages had already been sacked and razed, too long had the eastern region of Lordaeron been treacherous lands for its own people, and too many soldiers were being invested in hunting down and cornering the orcs. Arthas himself felt he was wasting precious time dutifully smashing orc marauders when he and Uther could be further honing their skills against the demonic.

“I say this not out of arrogance or to insult; between affliction from plague and the orcish warbands, Lordaeron is stretched too thin to strengthen its defenses, especially in the west. If Stromgarde still remained to advance its schemes, who knows how much your kingdom would suffer if they decided to coordinate an attack with Gilneas?”

Silence met the king of Alterac’s words, and he let the officials and nobles stew over that horrifying thought for a few seconds before continuing.

“King Terenas, I cannot provide much aid against the Withering Plague, but I can offer a swift conclusion to your orc infestation. First and foremost, I seek for Lordaeron to be capable of playing its part in the Alliance when things inevitably escalate with Gilneas and who knows what else they might have in their corner.”

Arthas watched as his father sat in silence for another moment before he finally replied. Some color and a measure of regal calm returned to his face as he forced away the dark news from Stromgarde. “I would have thought you would lend aid to King Anasterian first.”

Kyle shrugged again. “I am informed that the aid his realm is receiving is sufficient enough for the time being. And Quel’Thalas is not the one facing direct threat from a kingdom shrouded in demonic magic.”

“I see…”

“If it is a matter of trust-”

“No.” Arthas noted how swiftly his father refuted the suggestion. “No, we hold little reason to doubt you now, King Kyle. I…I admit that I worry for what price your aid might entail.”

The mage-king’s eyes went wide for a moment as if he genuinely hadn’t considered that, and then shrugged. “We can simply mark it down as something to consider after all this is done and we’re all negotiating the future over the victor’s table. If it’d make you feel better, I can promise that Alterac will not press any old claims from Lordaeron, nor will there be any interest in taking Stromgardian territory.”

There was a weary sigh, and then Arthas’ father shook his head. “Fine. You are right, King Kyle; we have little choice but to accept your gracious offer or risk remaining vulnerable to any further machinations of the enemy.”

Kyle nodded, barely hiding a satisfied smile. “Excellent. Thank you, King Terenas. Give me a couple of days to settle the paperwork to officially pass Stromgarde’s occupation over to King Magni, and then I’ll return to present an appropriate strategy to deal with the orcs. Ideally, we can get this matter dealt with by the end of next week.”

“That is acceptable,” Terenas replied with a nod of his own.

And with that, Kyle and his retinue left in a shimmer of blue arcane lights, leaving Arthas to glance at his father, who looked both resigned and relieved at the same time. Orders were then given to have the legions rein in their orc hunt, with some discussion among the advisors over what payment might be offered to appease Kyle when the time came. Arthas was far from surprised when someone brought up the idea of betrothing his sister to the mage-king again, and no matter how they might try to sweeten the deal, it was Uther of all people who shot it down by calmly stating that Kyle likely had his sights on another princess.

Arthas could only smirk wanly knowing that his mentor had noticed the relationship as well.

He then quietly joined in the idle speculation among the astonished nobles of how Lord Admiral Daelin might have taken the news. 

*****

“Do we really require such a goal?” Pelton asked, almost pleading by now. Behind him, the rest of Kyle’s court seemed to mirror his sentiment.

Kyle gave a stern nod. “Yes. We have taken the steps towards integrating murlocs, we can do the same for orcs as well. The reservation we’ve set aside should be more than enough to house them.”

“It is an unnecessary risk, keeping so many orcs…”

Kyle shrugged at his court. “We’re not using internment camps, nor are we spending Alteraci lives to watch over them. That little stretch of mountain is too remote for us, so we can leave it to hold the orcs for now. If they decide to be uncooperative shits, it’d be far easier to level them there and there’d be no collateral to worry about.”

Doubts lingered among the men and women before Kyle, but no further protests arose.

Jaina could understand their concerns and, more worryingly, she could see Kyle’s rationale. Beyond just altruism, his creation of a new home for the orcs was partly so that it could serve as a lure for other scattered Horde remnants, hopefully weakening their resolve. There were supposedly a couple more notable warbands infesting the lands near or within Khaz Modan and Stormwind, and Kyle hoped that they might be enticed by news of a place they could call their own - however nominally it might really be.

Of course, the other part is as he had said: if Alterac could make strides in domesticating murlocs, then the kingdom could very well try and domesticate the orcs as well. Kyle was also treating it as a matter of prestige to one-up his peers.

Still, it wasn’t as if Kyle was taking a wholly pacifistic approach. Unlike King Terenas, who prioritized capturing orcs for their internment camps, Kyle planned for the orc numbers to be culled, particularly the Horde leadership. And rather than just leaving them in camps to waste away, Kyle had planned to turn any orcs who would bend the knee into productive new members of Alterac that would develop an otherwise remote and inhospitable region into something of value.

Jaina guessed that it was those points, however naively idealistic they might be, that kept Kyle’s court from being more vehement in their protests. 

She also hoped that the whole process did not involve extracting the essence out of any animals, or if it did, that she’d have no part in it.

With no further word on the orcs, the court moved on to other matters. High Thane Falstad Wildhammer looked far from pleased about hearing of anything but wholesale slaughter of the orcs, but he refrained from commenting about it.

“So Stromgarde’s going to Magni?” he asked instead.

Kyle nodded to the blue-painted dwarf. “Khaz Modan has agreed to help maintain order in the lands of their old allies, until an opportune time to discuss claimants and successors. If Aerie Peak wishes some rights…”

The high thane lifted both hands up. “Nah. No thanks. Dealing with our own clans is a pain enough. Having to put up with humans whining over this matter or that? I might send some boys to fly over to keep the peace near Aerie Peak, but that’s about it. I’m surprised you’re not sharing with Magni. ”

“Don’t have enough men,” came the answer with a shrug. “And no doubt it’d be harder for us compared to the dwarves of Ironforge considering relations between the common Stromgardian and Alterac. I might have actual demons to deal with in the west to worry about riots and uprisings.”

“Fair enough. Anyway, our mutual friend has told me to trust you over your little orc project, so I’m gonna leave it to you.”

Mutual friend?

Kyle and Pelton nodded with full comprehension. It took a moment before Jaina could come up with a reasonable guess as to who it might be.

But how was Archmage Krasus connected to the high thane?

“In the meantime, seeing that your evacuations aren’t needed, I wanted to talk to you about the caches.”

The court slowly relaxed as the topic moved onto more mundane matters. As part of the plan to provide sanctuary to Alteraci subjects in the event that Stromgarde had turned out to be as great a threat as Kyle had imagined, a significant amount of resources had been transferred to Aerie Peak for safekeeping. Jaina recalled that a significant amount of food reserves and industrial materials were shipped to the Wildhammer lands and distributed throughout several regions to allow refugees to sustain themselves for a while if the worst ever came to pass.

Kyle gave his steward a glance before offering the high thane a light shrug. “You’re free to hold on to them. If you want, we’ll be more than happy to trade the caches for goods or services.”

Falstad scrunched his face up in thought for a moment before shrugging as well. “Eh, I was about to ask if you’re fine leaving ‘em buried for the coming winter, but sure, I don’t mind a decent trade. I’ll send my people over to talk to your people?”

“Works for me.”

Kyle’s court came to an end for the day, and with ease born out of habit Jaina easily followed him out of the throne room. Keeping beside him in silence, they slowly made their way up to Kyle’s study room, as if both of them were drawing out every second they could together.

“So…is everything packed?” Kyle eventually asked as they were halfway up the stairs.

Jaina licked her lips before she gave a reluctant nod.

“A shame you can’t just teleport there,” he said, for the…seventh? No, eighth. Eighth time ever since this subject was brought up. The princess didn’t bother repeating her reply this time.

They entered his personal study, and rather than reach for the bookshelves like before, the two teens stood before each other with awkwardness threatening to manifest between them.

“You won’t be gone for long,” Kyle said, trying to convince both of them.

“And if there’s trouble, I can quickly return,” she agreed, solidifying the assurance.

Kyle leaned in, and Jaina let out a sigh of relief as their lips gently met for long, delightful seconds. “I wish I could go with you,” he said, his warm breath washing against her face.

“No you don’t,” she retorted with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t,” Kyle admitted, laughing along with her.

Jaina shook her head at the boy that had faced down demons and brought a whole corrupted palace to heel. “For a powerful mage-king, who’d think you’d be afraid of meeting my father.”

“Because he’s your father,” he defended lightly. “I’m trying to build bridges, not declare unnecessary wars by going up to the lord admiral and saying ‘hey, I’m courting your daughter, you’re fine with that right?’”

Jaina’s chuckle became a hearty one as she tried to imagine the scene. “He’s not that bad…”

“Probably. But I rather not risk it until I can provide something more concrete to appease him.”

Jaina rolled her eyes at Kyle’s exaggerations, and then they enjoyed another, slightly longer kiss.

Even knowing that it was a short separation, Jaina found herself being…clingier with Kyle ever since they reluctantly agreed days ago on the need for her to return home to warn her father.

There was an irrational fear that was highly irritating to Jaina, though she found that her partner’s own increased shows of affection to be an almost acceptable consolation. It felt as if she was leaving for good, that she might never see him again, even knowing full well that both of them could teleport to each other in an instant. 

They enjoyed each others’ pleasant warmth for a moment before they let their responsibilities take over. 

“I’m sure my father will heed your warnings,” Jaina remarked with some seriousness, and was replied in kind by Kyle.

“The important part is to convince him to keep away from Gilneas’ coast. That, and the quarantine.” While the Withering Plague has not hit the islands of Kul Tiras yet, since they still imported Gilnean food nobody knew what potential dangers to expect. Jaina could only hope that the imports were limited to the islands closest to the now-damned kingdom, and that her family had kept away from the tainted food. Once she returned home, she would restrict her diet to conjured food as a precaution.

“You take care with the orcs, Kyle.”

“And you try not to get me killed on sight by your father,” he replied with a cheeky grin.