The Torrents of War - Prologue (Patreon)

The Torrents of War
Prologue
With the fall of Dalaran and the retreatment of Alliance armies East and South, the New Dominions of the Drakkari Empire may yet see peace. But out across the seas and within the shadows of Rohk’aka, there are battles still to be fought.

With the sun casting golden rays across the fields, &  dew slowly evaporated, one could feel the onset of Spring coming in earnest. Within the former Capital of Lordaeron, one would find the palace to be as bustling as ever, but soon the center of activity will be the auditorium where the next stage of war will be set into motion.

Beve Perenolde, strode down the grand and familiar halls of Lordaeron’s palace with well-practiced ease. Her usual robes, substituted for a deceptively unrestrictive dress, and upon her brow rested the Crown of Will. Recently retrieve by her agents from her family’s ruined home, the gleaming, almost hypnotic crown of polished gemstones was a fair replacement for the long-shattered crown of Alterac.

With Richelle never far and Singer dancing in the shadows, Beve’s seeming solitude was but a pretense for her chosen target. Namely, the black and white furred Wolvar bedecked in silk pattern pants, embroidered vest, and open coat in dark blues.

They expressed no surprised when Beve sidled up to them and instead greeted with a polite yip, “Hail, monarch Beve, well today?”

Beve had been getting used to the Wolvar’s penchant for dropping any and every word they could from a sentence and so smiled. “I am quite well, Chief Rageclaw, and yourself?”

Long sark claws clicked against the strong leather jacket, “Busy, well, curious!”

“I confess some intrigue as well, for these new arrivals from Silverpine, I hope they don’t take my being awarded Fenris Isle poorly,” She led to her point smoothly.

The Chief’s tail flickered, “Well deserved, even more with North Valleys’ gone.”

Yes, the loss of the Northern hills and valleys to local trolls, Gnolls and more was a disappointment, but they’d serve as a bulwark against the Barov’s so she could live with it Especially given the isle were her reward for such a trade.

She offered a polite bow, “You’re too kind, though I’d be remiss not to mention his majesty had once hinted he intended those isles for your people.”

The Wolvar waved her off lazily, “Idle thought, early days, a shame yes but just.”

Beve smiled, “With that shame in mind, I thought to make an offer to you.”

Adorable ears twitched, “Listening~”

“My agents have secured much of Hillsbad and Alterac shall once again be in my hands as well. But you see,” She said theatrically, “That is almost the problem, I’ve not the citizenry to populate and police all these regions so soon. Thus, I thought an exchange perhaps?”

“Between us only,” The Wolvar asked with an arched brow, showing no sign of suspicion and she could feel their own magic in the air helping obscure their words.

“A lease agreement, no territory changing hands without his majesty’s approval of course, but all the properties but by your people would be your own. Free reign for your own trade while tariffs on others, and shared profits between us.”

The Wolvar’s chuckle was very akin to a Gnoll and they nodded happily, “We will be good friends, I think.”

______________________________________________________________________

Gal’Darah had been on his way to the recently remodeled auditorium when he was ambushed by Alexi. The nobleman seemingly eager to share his insights with someone regarding his daughter’s slow recovery and seeing Gal’Darah as a sympathetic ear. Not that the Grand Prophet wasn’t sympathetic.

“And that witch who did this to her, she’s lucky it was Malakk who saw to her execution, I tell you that, Gal’Darah!” The man nearly snarled as he kept a slipped pace at Gal’Darah’s side in the long, winding halls.

Hand on his heart, Gal’Darah intoned, “Your love for your daughters rings across the air in your fury, my noble friend. Would that I could offer some Salm that this trials never fell upon you; but I at least have heard her recovery is going well.”

“As well as can be,” The man sighed, “The prosthetic his majesty procured for her has done wonders, but learning to use it still proves tiring for her.”

“She’s a strong woman, noble lord, and though the curses of Dalaran are devilish, there may still be a solution on the rise,” He glanced out the window to the countryside. “Especially when all is done and put in its proper lace.”

Alexi sighed, but nodded, a little more at ease, “You speak well, and that’s all the more reason to end this war swiftly, I say.”

“This one agrees, though it must be remembered the stability of the empire as a whole must come first, and with that in mind,” Gal’Darah said before the man could muse on his meaning. “There is something you must know of today’s meeting.”

‘Is it that we are to welcome some Forest Trolls into the court, because I have been told,” The man answered snidely.

“No, but we shall once again be welcome the Queen Counselor into our midst, if in a reduced rank and role,” Gal’Darah said lyrically.

Alexi blinked owlishly before scoffing, “And what did that woman do to earn herself the Frost King’s favor again?”

Gal’Darah was quick to defend his lieges honor, “De’jana’s favor actually.”

“The Bureaucrat who replaced her?” Alexi’s brow quirked curiously as he half heartedly added, “The half troll, yes?”

“The very same,” Gal’Darah nodded, “She was the first to sense the Queen Counselors subtle sabotage, but also deems her too useful a presence to lock away indefinitely. She and her daughter will be restraining themselves this day and I must beg of you the same. With new allies, we must present a united front, no?”

Alexi let out a low breath and nodded, “If she keeps her tongue, I’ll keep mine; just as well my lovely wife is not with us, those two never did get along.”

“A tragedy for the ages I am sure,” His joke earning Gal’Darah an uproarious laugh.

______________________________________________________________________

Lianne took a glance at De’Jana’s back before they entered the auditorium. The half troll’s hair was tied back in its usual sleek ponytail, and while she wore her usual tabard like vestments, beneath it lay a silk vest and atop it was a set of flared shoulder, while a sash held up silver patterned pants.

The grand hall had undergone some remodeling signal Zul’Drak’s influence but less so than most places. With its high ceiling and second floors made it an ideal place for Malakk’s presentations with he throne room still out of commission for some reason.

The air of the brightly lit chamber was filled with hushed, sibilant conversation, that echoed across the marble balconies and was swallowed by walks bedecked in fine furs and silks in elegant patterns.

“Its so crowded,” Calia whispered, eyes wide at the sheer volume of trolls, and even humans, be they early collaborators or grudgingly surrendered souls was greater than when she first surrendered. Even more though were the numbers of unfamiliar faces and creatures. Be it a Nerubian, several Forest Trolls, Wolvar, some strange creatures of white feathers she did not recognize, let alone Gnolls, Kobolds and a group of burly looking bull creatures.

Archbishop Alonsus Faol was quick to join them, a sour looking High Priestess Whitemane at his side, as the man intoned. “From what the Grand Prophet told me on the evening, this shall be quite a ceremony.”

De’jana glanced back and nodded, “Welcoming a New Dominion into the Empire is something to be done with all due ceremony and with the Royal Halls so far away, we must do so here. Most of these citizens and allies shall return home when this is done, and strategy sessions called.”

Lianne returned her gaze to her subjects, or what that former subject and the Drakkari who had claimed them and was surprised to see several in Drakkari wear or crest, and even a few mingling. By no means was it the majority, but it was clear, a shift was occurring in the background of wars fought and battles won.

‘Have I been so isolated by overplaying my hand with the tax codes, or was this merely inevitable?’ Lianne had no idea which answer was worse.

Resting a hand on Calia’s shoulder, encouraging the girl to stand tall as gazes drifted to them from across the hall. Some no doubt noticed the absence of her son, but she stared towards the stage, heart steady and mind still, in times like this, one could afford no weakness.

She saw De’jana’s hand brush against Calia’s before falling back, as the taller woman’s attention never turned from the stage as the lights began to dim.

______________________________________________________________________

Arctikus stood within the gathering crowd, arms akimbo and exchanged hushed words with War Priest Hala’Zhi of the Amani as the Forest Troll finished their tale.

“We kept souvenirs of course, what survived at least, but some of it shall return to the Drakkari’s hands I am thinking.”

She nodded idly, “It is as you say, I must wonder ow the Barovs will take to their new neighbours though, with s few humans ‘staying’.”

Hala’Zhi shrugged, “Not for us to know, but the emperor will be a most ardent ally of the new residents of Hearthglenn I am sure.”

Arctikus clicked her tongue, well aware of the subtle layers of dance and dare behind the words and finally added, “They can count on the Frostmane as friends.”

Hala’Zhi smiled, “Of that, those that stayed will be grateful; but enough of me, what of you, great slayer of the Kirin Tor, yes?”

She scoffed, “Hardly, the elf wounded me in the battle and used that chance to escape. We thought him dead for a time, but it was a body he warped with his magic. No telling where he went.”

Hala’Zhi nodded, “Back to the North most likely, they are rattling like a rocked hive right now.”

“Another foe to overcome… Look there, we have Zol’Maz incoming,” she whispered, and the Amani ducked their head.

Any more talk of personal politics tabled as the face of the Peace coalition joined them, red hair bristling even as he grinned and said, “Great Mother, Honor War Priest, an honor as always.”

“An honor given and returned, Warlord,” Arctikus drawled, as Hala’Zhi bowed and tittered “Enjoying the diverse company?”

Zol’Maz glanced at the gathering of Valley dwellers in their own comfortable alcove on the walls, among them a Gnoll, a Kobold, Frost Troll, and Harpy a piece, with a Wolvar between them.

“Indeed, I am, very sensible people I am thinking,” the Warlord grinned.

‘Magnificent, more cowards who do not wish to fight,’Arctikus silently lamented.

Perhaps sensing her ire, the Ice Troll continued, “Such a shame, they cannot be so honored on this day, along with our newest kinsmen of course.”

That at least made Arctikus snort I amusement, “I hear they are still squabbling over who gets what territory.”

Hala’Zhi nodded, “That would be their way, cautious and controlled to the last is how they survived the humans, elves and dwarves thus far.”

Zol’Maz nodded, “As I said, sensible people,” he saw her fangs flash and added, “Off beneficial circumstances too, one would note. Still, this one is sure it shall be sorted soon enough and with it the war comes a step closer to ending and our territories secured.” He looked passed them, “Forgive this one, but I see an old friend, please give you and yours my best.”

They both bowed and let the Warlord leave them as he went to confer with more of his allies when the lights began to dim.

_________________________________________________

At word of his newest kind arrival, Malakk made for the foyer of the palace, with a genuine lightness in his step.

With all the battles behind or ahead of them, he had wanted to take the time to make this an event. Not just to reaffirm the Empires solidarity, but to finally meet with allies so distant he’d only engaged with them through secondhand script.

They made for a regal pair to be sure, standing on the grand white steps of the palace. Their separation in height doing little to stop their arms from interlinking, much to the scandal of humans watching them pass.

The tallest was Lord Krag’jin, a dark green forest troll with even darker hair, save for the golden streaks flowing through the long mohawk; adorned in a studded Dark Slate Grey shirt and matching kilt. Whole at his side, was a Seraphine of Winter, lean woman with a wild mane of nearly black hair, sharp features, and robes in Forest Green. Each of them wore a long, robed cloak with wide sleeves and the Drakkari symbol adorned on its back.

Malakk threw his arms wide, “Welcome my new friends and kindred, to the Southern Capital of the Drakkari Empire!”

Both offered deep bows and Krag’jin spoke first, “It is an honor to be received to warmly, my liege, your reputation precedes you.”

Seraphine smiled wanly, “Your personal attention in this matter is most welcome, mighty one of first and gale.”

Malakk grinned, “It is only fitting, your efforts have done much to benefit the empire and your people, and with such elegance. It is an honor to be welcoming such fine leaders into our Dominion, I trust your travel was safe and well?”

Krag’jin smirked, “Nothing and no one has given us trouble my liege, a few messenger birds here and there, but nothing that changes this day.”

Seraphine’s gaze was drifting across the palace, “I confess, I had often come to disdain cities, but in your hands, I feel this lifeless place can breath anew.”

“And so, it shall,” Malakk said grandly, motioning for them to join him in his slow strides. “And it shall not just be the capital but all lands that are renewed. In that line of thinking, I am of the mind that Tol’Vass and the Silver Woods can be an exemplar to the rest of the Empire.”

Both let out a low, oh sound he had learned indicated interest, Krag’jin adding, “Such attention would be most welcome your grace, so long the little folk of the land were ignored.”

Malakk hissed slyly as they drifted down the grand halls, light spilling across their frames. “So, I have been told, and that trouble in the North when the war began, ghastly business. But since your shared rise to prominence the land has grown safe and stable. Now, with Ambermill finally surrendered, it is time for the people and lands to move forward with purpose and to show the rest of the empire what we can accomplish by collaborating closely.”

The pair were grinning, “It would be our honor, your majesty, to serve the empire in this manner.”

Malakk clapped his hands, “Magnificent. And, speaking of serving the empire, Seraphine, I am told more of your kindred have linked themselves to our cause?”

The woman nodded, “Yes your grace, Celestine of the Harvest led a final exodus of our kin behind the walls and they have joined hands with the Forest Lords in service of the Drakkari.”

“It warms my heart, dear lady of the Harvest,” Malakk intoned. “Know now that this land is under our rule, you and yours shall be free to practice, preach and teach your ways with the full backing of the Legions of Zul’Drak, as will the Priests of Tol’Vass of course,”

“We thank you, your grace. My brothers and sisters shall finally know peace from the purges of puritanical priests,” Seraphine sighed, something weighty and heavy behind her tanned skin and subtle crows feat.

Krag’jin was nodding along, adding, “And with that protection comes the gift of the harvest, and the forces of Tol’Vass at your disposal your grace.”

Malakk nodded resolutely as they approached the backstage doors, “Your loyalty shall be rewarded eternally, now, let us commence the ceremony.”

_________________________________________________

With the dimming of the candles a hundred eyes turned upon the stage; upon which stoof the Frost King and his newest councilors. The pairs voices rose high and echoed across the grand halls, as the treaty was placed upon a pedestal before his majesty.

“In the Silver Forests of the East, the lords of Gilneas and their kindred nation brought ruin all, with flame and spear, or yoke and persecution without relief.”

“The gods and ancestors wept as their children were consigned to hide in the mountains. The spirits of storm and stream, the very forests heart and her speakers made silent.”

“Then unto us, the Drakkari came, with great ceremony and gallantry in need of aid and ready to return the favor. Through your aid we have our homes and freedom again, and so it is unto the Drakkari Empire we pledge ourselves.”

“So shall it be, that we take inspiration from his imperial majesty in our guidance of the people and Dominions. In our capital of Tal’Vass, the Forest Lord shall take council with his chiefs and the High Coven, who shall guide the villages and cities of humanity, all in the name of the empire and the Frost King.”

Together, they signed the parchment, with great flourishes they turned to the crowd and cheered.

“With this, we commit ourselves to this great and glorious empire!”

“Long live the Drakkari!”