Join Date: Jan 2010
Location: The Philippines
Re: The Revenge of the Tauren
Here's chapter 7. I mentioned Varian Wrynn here. For an info on him and his fusion blade Shalamayne, click here
THE REVENGE OF THE TAUREN
CHAPTER 7: FORMING ALLIANCES
The valiant paladin-knight was walking upright across the castle halls, with the chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof immediately behind him. The paladin-knight Purist Thunderwrath was giving the chieftain a sort of a deluxe tour into the Stormwind castle at the Trade District, where Cairne would soon meet the kingdom’s governor. They walk past the hall into a corridor to their left. Purist opened a door which showed a vast space with stunning regal designs. Only a single table, a long one, was in the middle of the room, together with sixteen chairs: seven on both sides and a chair to each end. “This is the governor’s war room, where he meets and dines with his generals and advisers.” The paladin-knight ushered the chieftain into a seat. “The governor will be here shortly. Please make yourself comfortable.” Cairne nodded as the knight left.
Cairne walked towards the chair and sat on it ever so gently, afraid his massive size would destroy the chair. Surprisingly enough, the chair did not make a sound. It was as rigid as cedar. The doors opened once again, and Cairne quickly got up from his seat.
“Sorry for my late arrival. I had a few urgent things that needed ironing.” The man entered with such pride as he acknowledged the presence of the Thunderbluff chieftain. His armor glowed a bright blue, with gold lining his breastplate and pauldrons. The sword sheathed in his side was a symbol of the might of the alliance, the power of the human monarch: the fusion blade Shalamayne.
There, standing gallantly in front of Cairne, was Governor Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind.
Meanwhile, somewhere inside the Icecrown Citadel, the nerubians are preparing the banquet hall for the arrival of some important visitors. Apparently, the Lich King had some important personalities coming over, one nerubian uttered. Another one beside him was wiping the surface of one of the tables. He asked who were those “important personalities”. The former merely shrugged.
The doors of the citadel opened, and in came Anub’seran, the Lich King’s overlord in Northrend, specifically in Azjol-Nerub. Apparently, he is in a hasty mood, trying to make sure all things are set for the king’s visitors. He walked the long journey inside the citadel, from the lower spire, up the Crimson Hall and into the top of the mountain. There it was, the chilling winds of Northrend whipping around it, was the Frozen Throne.
“My King, your visitors are to arrive shortly. Would you take them in the banquet hall?”
The king’s eyes squinted slightly, which, the nerubian knew, meant only something bad. “Visitors?” The Lich King stood up and drew out Thunderfury. He then walked slowly towards the shaking nerubian, apparently knowing his death is about to come. “Trogdor!”
The Lich King turned around quickly, only to see his queen, Akasha. “I was the one who arranged this visit, and I assure you this visit would be to our advantage.”
Trogdor nodded. He then returned his attention to the nerubian. “Let them come here. I’m too lazy and important to meet them in the hall.”
Anub’seran nodded and walked away. Trogdor returned to his throne, slumping himself in the chair with his chin resting in his right fist. A few moments later, Anub’seran returned with two visitors that made Trogdor grin evilly.
He was looking at the lich Kel’Thuzad and his minion Ish’kafel.
“So, what brings you here? One of my men told me you are offering some sort of truce?” King Wrynn said as he sat in his seat at the far end of the table.
“No. I am offering a joint venture, an alliance.”
The king chuckled softly. “An alliance? There is no need for some alliance. The scourge has been taken care of, the lich king Arthas has been defeated. Peace has been restored in Azeroth. What is this alliance for? Besides, you orcs have a way of betraying us humans. Ask the warchief Thrall.”
“It seems that the news has not yet spread here.” Cairne shook his head. “The death of Tirion Fordring—”
“Stop.” The king interrupted Cairne. “Tirion Fordring was killed by Daelin Proudmoore, end of story. That isn’t some news here.”
Cairne was astonished. Daelin killed Fordring? Cairne cleared his throat and return to the main purpose of his visit. “I shall address that accusation later. Meanwhile, I tell you the truth, peace is not yet restored in Azeroth.”
Wrynn smirked. “Enlighten me.”
And Cairne did. The tauren told King Varian everything, from the battle at the Argent Vanguard, to the death of Tirion Fordring, to the defeat of the reincarnated Arthas, to the fall of the great Neltharion, up to the rise of the new Lich King Trogdor and the death of his brother Chen. After Cairne finished his story, the king of Stormwind merely nodded. “I understand.”
The governor stood up and appeared to be leaving when he turned to Cairne and said, “Allaince accepted. I shall order the movement of one of my army’s battalions into your command, together with my trusted captain, Purist Thunderwrath. He shall meet you here shortly.”
Back at Icecrown, the Lich king gave his visitors a mere icy stare. He then stood up and eyed the two. “Why are you wretched fools here? Your king is dead, and you vermin can leave my castle lest I’ll make you.”
Kel’Thuzad cleared his throat and managed to speak a few words. “We are here to swear ourselves in to your authority.” Both him and Ish’kafel bowed down.
Trogdor was shocked by this sudden revelation, and this surprise manifested evidently in his expression. He chuckled. “You? The great Lich of Arthas, swear allegiance to me?”
“Certainly. You are indeed the lich King, are you not?” Kel’Thuzad said as he remained bowed.
Trogdor grinned widely, thinking of the implications of this newly found allegiance. “Both of you, stand up. Enough of this show. I want to see real evidence of your loyalty.”
Kel’Thuzad stood up and rose his hand to point towards the edge of the mountain. “See for youself.”
Trogdor walked towards the edge and there he saw what he wanted. At the foot of the Icecrown mountain was a huge undead army, not as large as his, but the number was considerable. Necromancers, ghouls and various draenei warriors stood below him, apparently now in his command. Trogdor turned back to Kel’Thuzad. “Is this… the Army of Avernus?”
“What’s left of it, my king. And now, they are no longer the army of Avernus, but yours.”