Wielding the Stars to Craft War (Warcraft/Starcraft)

Chapter 37



In the weeks after the massacre at the cathedral the upper echelons of Alterac was a hive of activity. Essential imports were essentially frozen as food stores throughout the kingdom were double-checked and assigned more guards. Heralds were sent to towns and villages with lockdown and evacuation briefings in case of enemy invasion. Specific scripts were written for the priests’ sermons. Specialists were sent out to certain bridges or stretches of roads, preparing them for sabotage as a last resort. Boats were hoarded and new ships were built in the coastlines and lakesides, either to serve as improvised fireships or as evacuation vessels if the worst came to pass.

The kingdom was preparing for an invasion from any and every corner, but rather than a bubbling panic, there was a sense of grim resolve in the people who carried out their king’s orders.

Breana and her team were no different, the discreet agents reassigned out of listening to the sentiments of settlements all across the kingdom into herding minor criminals out of village lockups and town jails back to the capital. Pardons were offered to pickpockets, tavern brawlers and petty troublemakers in exchange for much needed labor, as watchtowers and fortifications needed to be built. King Kyle gave them the opportunity for freedom instead of simply press-ganging them because he believed that the incentive would guarantee a minimum of quality in their work. There were some skeptics about that line of thought, but Breana herself didn’t care either way.

The king had beaten a demon, and the fountains he had laid down across the kingdom had been revealed to be magical defenses instead of merely gaudy reminders of his rule. After all that, beyond the other wild but successful ideas he’s already come up with, then he deserved a good amount of her trust.

And escorting conscripted criminals wasn’t that bad a task; Breana and her friends could be out by the lakes or the coastline, rolling barrels of ‘cat oil’ and trying to talk with murlocs.

Supposedly the king had managed to earn some degree of their loyalty and service. It sounded absolutely absurd, but so too was the idea that demons could show up in a cathedral. She’d witnessed with her own eyes as the demons revealed themselves, and as the guards had shoved her and every other unarmed worshiper out the doors, Breana also caught sight of how the boy king had stood toe-to-toe against the winged horror while a paladin of the Light had been felled.

If King Kyle said he could make vassals out of murlocs, then Breana would learn how to work with the fishmen when the time came.

She just hoped that she didn’t have to learn how to gargle in a hundred different ways to do so.

After returning to the capital with a meager harvest of conscripts from the southern villages, Breana reported back to the palace. With court already over with by the time she returned in the late afternoon, the agent of the throne went straight to a palace guard to seek a meeting and then waited for only a few minutes to receive confirmation before heading straight to wherever King Kyle was currently at. She had the presence of mind to shake the most of the travel’s dust off her before entering the palace proper, out of respect for the palace’s servants.

Rather than wasting everyone’s time, the young king had little care for formalities with his agents, preferring to receive his reports promptly rather than worrying about how clean the messenger was when they presented themselves. A throwback to his peasant background, most said, either with admiration or exasperation. Breana herself rather liked that she didn’t have to go through putting on clothes and learning courtly speech just for a short meeting. Just arrange a meeting with King Kyle, deliver her report and receive her orders, and maybe make some small talk before fucking off to her rest and duties.

Breana found her liege in the gardens in discussion with the captain of his guard, Lora, who seemed to have healed from her nasty limp after the cathedral. The mage princess and Tidecaller Queen, Jaina Proudmoore of Kul Tiras, was there as well, as was Royal Treasurer Tobias, and Kharak Stoutanvil of Khaz Modan.

“-sure Magni can approve of a shipment,” she caught the dwarf captain grumbling.

Her fellow dwarf gave her an exasperated shake of his head. “King Magni supports Alterac fortifying itself to fend off demons, but the guilds might not be keen on further discounts. You know how that works, you daft cow.”

While Lora audibly growled at the insult, Kharak turned to the king with an apologetic shrug. “Good money’s earned from rebuilding and refitting Stormwind. Money that feeds Ironforge’s own rebuilding. Our king can’t be seen as neglecting his own kingdom as a price to raise his neighbors up, however liked they are.”

“I understand,” Kyle replied without any resentment. “But we had to give it a try. Even with you and your colleagues’ aid, Alterac’s industrial output is still in its early stages of development to fill up our armories in time.”

“Aye, I know,” the dwarf sighed. “I can promise you that King Magni will keep the prices reasonable. We just can’t afford any discounts right now.”

“Could we find cheaper alternatives?” Tobias asked, but the king shook his head.

“If it were only orcs, I’d say yes. But seeing how the felguards’ weapons tore through shields and plate, I worry that anything lighter for our infantry would be about the same as sending them out naked.”

Breana suppressed an involuntary shudder as the image of the hulking demons swinging their poleblades about to cleave through royal guards flashed through her mind. At least the heavy armor slowed the oversized blade’s travel. She remembered the infernal weapon sweeping through a lighter-armored town guard like he wasn’t there, messily bisecting the poor man before burying itself into a royal guard’s shield and chest.

Kharak winced before nodding. “I wish I can offer any good alternatives, your majesty.”

Despite frowning a bit, Kyle waved off the apology. “I can’t blame King Magni if he needs to care for his own people, especially after all the support he’s given Alterac. We’ll just have to work out alternatives that can keep our first responders alive as effectively as decking out everyone in heavy plate like Lordaeron.”

“If only they had the opposite of the issue we are facing,” Tobias lamented, and Breana agreed.

After the massacre at the cathedral became widespread knowledge, along with the official responses by both King Kyle and Archbishop Falric, the king’s call to arms was met with a huge wave of eager recruits. On paper, Alterac’s standing army went from barely two thousand strong to eight thousand resolute sons and daughters of Alterac.

In reality though, while the kingdom could just manage the training of so many recruits, equipping them once they were ready was a problem. From what Breana heard, it was mainly the fact that they couldn’t protect every footsoldier or cavalryman sufficiently. The frustrating part was that they had the raw materials, but the smiths would still take a while to actually hammer out the pieces to fulfill the order. Last count had maybe enough mail shirts to fit three thousand soldiers, and less than half of that for plate armor.

The little meeting ended and the treasurer and both dwarves excused themselves, allowing Breana to present herself to her king. She didn’t have to look too hard to see why the Tidecaller Queen was still here. The two young royals were standing several paces apart, but with how they exchanged quiet, reassuring looks at each other, they might as well just be holding hands before her.

“Breana.”

Breana bowed and wasted no time in delivering her report. “Your highness. A little over a hundred new laborers are interested in earning their pardons from the coastal towns.”

“A hundred’s better than nothing,” he hummed in return. “Any issues?”

Breana shook her head. “There’s lots of talking, and people have begun boarding up windows and preserving more of their food, but no obvious signs of anxiety or panic.”

“No mobs?”

“I did not see or hear a single accusation of warlocks or cultists throughout my travel, let alone a lynching of one.”

“Huh, I thought there’d be at least some hysterics…”

“It’s the fountains,” Breana offered with a shrug. “People believe you’re watching over them, making sure no demons are walking among them. Seen a few people walk up or shoved up to the fountains to prove their innocence.”

The boy king gave her a blank look before glancing over at Princess Jaina, who only shrugged. 

“Huh. That’s a thing.”

“It is.”

“Right then. Nothing else of note?”

“None at all, your highness. The people are worried, but you’re not going silent like the last king, so everyone’s not ready to start fleeing for the woods just yet.”

King Kyle gave a rather regal nod to dismiss her. “Thanks and well done, Breana. Go get some rest, you should get your new assignment in a couple of days or so.”

“Your highness.” Breana bowed first to him, and then to the princess, before backing away with as much haste as was polite. Better to leave the teens to their privacy. Light knows with all the frantic bustling going about that they deserved a moment’s peace to themselves to be young.

Only a moment though; can’t have the Lord Admiral Proudmoore declare war on Alterac because his daughter and King Kyle were taking too many liberties with their quiet moments alone…

A messenger came huffing into view, rushing straight past her to present himself to the king. Seeing that Pelton and the other advisors followed in his wake, Breana froze from her withdrawal and watched the scene with interest.

“Your majesty-!”

The king stopped the man from bowing and gestured for him to immediately give his report.

The messenger quickly produced a scroll which a guard suddenly appeared out of nowhere to pass along to the king. Even before Kyle took the scroll, the messenger hurriedly spoke. 

“My king, Stromgarde has closed its borders. A few Lordaeron and Kul Tiran merchants managed to flee to our lands in time. They bear news that King Thoras Trollbane and most of his court have taken ill. Crown Prince Galen now rules in his father’s stead and is hunting down the poisoners. He has begun by having all outsiders seized for interrogation.”

That sounded bad. Very bad. 

The messenger took in a breath before continuing. “One merchant also claimed that the kingdom is mobilizing its army.”

“Is he overreacting?” Princess Jaina asked, just as confused as everyone at the actions the prince of Stromgarde was taking.

“Or this could be a ruse,” Marshal Colin offered with a deep frown. “Sealing the borders is already bad enough, but capturing foreign merchants…”

Stromgarde was gearing for hostilities.

Pelton gave a concerned frown. “If Galen is compromised…”

“This is the wrong time to show it,” Kyle finished for his steward. “He gains nothing from showing his hand right now.”

There were nods from the gathered advisors who were already murmuring amongst themselves.

“Where are the merchants?” the king asked the messenger, his gaze fixed on the scroll.

“The message was delivered from Chillwind Harbor, your highness. They should still be there.”

“Valoghan.”

The eerie court mage stepped forwards with a slight nod.

“Could you scry Stromgarde for demonic magic?”

Lady Cylia protested before the mage could answer. “That would be intruding into their sovereignty, my king."

The mage-king nodded at that. “It would, but with everything that’s been happening, I think this is more than justified.”

“It is,” Pelton agreed. “We’ve taken a soft stance as is, this is more than a reasonable reply considering. Alterac cannot risk demonic invasion from its neighbor. And considering that Lordaeron and maybe even Ironforge would receive the news slower than we have, we should seek to clarify matters to warn or assuage them.”

Kyle gave Valoghan a look, and the court mage bowed to excuse himself. “I will begin immediately, your highness.”

“Thanks. Let me know your findings as soon as you get it. Teleport over if it’s faster.”

“By your will.”

“Marshal. Prepare the orders to muster. Stromgarde might be under demonic thrall, or it might simply be experiencing a mundane but highly effective coup. Regardless, we can expect trespasses from Stromgarde. We’ll have to make do with what we have at the moment.”

“Emphasis will be placed on skirmishing tactics,” Lord Colin said with a nod.

Even with the lack of quality armor, Breana quietly thanked the Light that they at least still had enough bows and spears to go around.

“Ranger-captain, I’m afraid I’ll have to employ the rangers in force…”

Breana stood by as her liege began giving out orders, waiting for her turn. Preparation was made for everything in the southeast bordering with Stromgarde to be abandoned or reinforced. Coastal patrols would increase in case of amphibious infiltration. Food stores would be given another check in anticipation for rationing. Messages were sent to the other Alliance kingdoms.

“Breana.”

Breana stepped forwards with a stiff salute.

“Change of plans. Call your team to get as much rest as they can, make sure your steeds are as fresh as can be as well. Tomorrow, you’re going east to petition the Wildhammers in Aerie Peak. Assume they’re out of the loop; brief them as thoroughly as you can of what has happened. I don’t need their military support, but I’d like them to offer sanctuary to any refugees we have to send their direction.”

“If time is of the issue…” the gnome steward began to mutter, but the king cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll be teleporting them to the nearest possible settlement. The dwarves don’t like magic, no need to raise their hackles by plopping our delegation right at their doorstep.”

Breana gulped, sharing the same sentiment as the dwarves. She’ll have to have a light breakfast. And maybe say a prayer or two in case being shunted across the kingdom wasn’t as effortless as her king made it out to be.


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