The Lion and the Serpent - Chapter Seven: Allegiance

The thunder of their boots marching along the road was unmistakeable, as common citizens dodged aside to avoid being trampled, the red clad group kept their pace. They marched with solid determination along the canal side toward the mighty keep of Stormwind; the knights of Strom set firmly upon their path. The full moon sat quietly in the night sky, its reflection flickering and shivering in the waters of the canals.

Some twenty of them led by Seiken, Trohad and Arador thundered toward the keep’s entrance, the guards hesitating to stop them and simply standing aside to avoid any collision. As they passed under the great door to the towering keep and into its majestic halls, all eyes shifted as soldiers saluted and nobles bowed their heads with respect. But no notice did they take of any who greeted them, they simply maintained their march, a wave of red striding furiously up the marble floors.

As the entrance to the meeting hall came into view on their right, soldiers guarding the outside came to attention with a salute. Knights of the disciples clad in blue stood pristine and untarnished in their ornate gold and silver armours. A stark contrast to the Arathorian’s who sported animal pelts and well used equipment after their own more feral fashion.

Turning down the side corridor and passing the guarding soldiers without a glance, Arador and Trohad sped off ahead of Seiken at a greater pace. Before them at the end of the corridor was the meeting hall of the Vanguard, The Alliance war council. Sat eagerly at the great table in its centre was gathered everyone, just as Seiken had hoped. First was bishop Fortesgue of the strand, with Gahalla and Viviel at his sides. Beside the bishop sat Aarian, smiling as he saw the approach of his friend along the corridor, his own aids stood by him. Burgen sat patiently in his own seat, twiddling his beard with Dorik clutching his rifle readily next to him. Maelmoor of course was there as always, sat in a high chair at what should be the tables head, his arms folded and aiming a narrow eyed glance at the approaching Arathorian party. Last, and by no means least, sat Aegnian at the side of the room on a bench. The Warlords dark and savage armour looked nigh unnatural compared to his muscular lean face and raven black hair. He and all attending slowly stood as the Northerners approached.

The herald hesitantly began to speak... “My Lords and Lady’s, the Prince of the East fields...” but stopped abruptly as they entered, eyeing the actions of Trohad. The Dark clad Magi wafted his hands sharply with a dismissive motion as he veered off toward the side of the room, every lit candle going out as he did so. No sooner had he done this did he raise his arms sharply upward, each candle re-lighting with a wicked flickering flame. The light in the room was now darker and more brooding as each flame burned furiously as if on a brazier rather than a candle.

Those sat at the table that were now stood up sported frowns and a raised brow, scepticism was already present. Although, Aegnian had already seated himself with a smirk on his face, watching with interest.

“What is the meaning of this Trollbane? And why have you summoned us here?” spoke Fortesgue firmly, the old bishop pushing the brown hair of his brows together to frown, but with weariness rather than annoyance.

Seiken took to his seat facing opposite Maelmoor, while Arador stood at his side. “You all know exactly why I summoned you all for this meeting, you must forgive my behaviour your grace... this is no normal meeting” spoke Seiken firmly and with authority while everyone else took to their seats.
The gathering narrowed their eyes, obviously suspicious. All the while the twenty knights of Strom began to take over from the door guards, blocking the whole corridor off tightly, swords even drawn and shields barricading the way.

“I suspect he and his knights are here for revenge” Maelmoor spoke up, his wizened voice was both stern and almost had a tint of cruelty. After what had happened with Lysle earlier that day, the mood between Seiken and Maelmoor had been Tenuous.

“I have come to rid Stormwind and the alliance of a pest that could attack at any time, actually...” Seiken narrowed his eyes, real and Silver.
“With all due respect Seiken, there is a massive difference between the improvised village you dwelled in, and this mighty city with its fortress like walls. We are safe from troll attack here” Maelmoor muttered with a half smirk, triumphant in his point that there was a great difference.

“How tall are the walls in Lakeshire? Or Darkshire... Sentinel Hill and Goldshire?” spoke up Arador, the hall now silent and still as those at the table glanced from one another and then to Maelmoor. The old paladin’s expression shifted to one of dreary annoyance as he sat back quietly in his seat.

“You see my allies and friends, this is no simple pest problem... the empire has grown strong while we hammered away furiously at the Covenant. Their army is strong and capable of attacking anywhere at any time... and of killing anyone without discrimination” Seiken spoke slowly, a speech running through his head that he’d rehearsed now many times. Taking a slow breath he continued.

“We are here for revenge that is obvious” the prince glanced around the table, noting the now blank expressions. “But we are here first and foremost, to ensure that such an attack never happens again. To anyone”

“Noble intentions, but you must forgive my interruption... what exactly is it you intend to do?” enquired Fortesgue, politely and patiently as ever, tapping the side of the stave he held stood up at the side of his chair.

“Aye, get ta tha point Trollbane!” Exclaimed Burgen, the dwarf’s voice muffled by the table he could barely peer over. “Aye, ta tha point or tha Dorik will smash yer sku...” Dorik began to yell too, but was cut off by Burgen whacking him on the head.

Their gazes locked onto him with piercing interest, curiosity seemed to of gotten the better of them all as they waited eagerly for an answer.
“We strike, we strike to kill” uttered Seiken almost hesitantly, glancing around to try and gauge their reactions. Silence followed, as the gathering again glanced at one another, then to Maelmoor for clarification.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘strike to kill’ exactly?” came the question, Maelmoor sat up straight, his tone firm.

Tell them...

“Kill them, kill all of them... no trolls, no more threat” answered Seiken tonelessly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I quite heard you right... you want to kill off the entire Gurubashi empire?” blurted out the bishop, his brows raised in surprise.
The looks on their faces shifted again, to grins then snickers as they shook their heads, eventually laughing. All but Gahalla, she squinted an eye at Seiken quietly.

“He’s serious...” she added, quietly but loud enough for all to hear. Standing to Fortesgue’s side, her pale skin complimented by her smooth red hair. Though meek in stature she stood with some pride in her red robes. The laughing died down suddenly to an eerie silence.

“You’re actually serious? You want to take an army and take the vale? No alliance Army has ever succeeded in the vale against the empire!” cried out the Night elf warrior on the bishops other side; Viviel always had been noisy when wanting to make herself heard.

Remember the vow you made to them, do not falter at the first sign of criticism or doubt... this is the path we are on, we are devoted too, the path we must follow...

“Until now... Viviel, until now. We do not simply wish to crash into the jungle with a mob like many generals foolishly did before us. That always ends in massacres and defeat” Arador spoke up, holding his head high and defiant. Even looking more regal than Seiken.

“Change of tactics or not, the Trolls will simply stop you in the vale pass from Duskwood. No army has ever dislodged them from this narrow pass; they can defend it too easily!” Exclaimed Maelmoor, his face draped in horror at the prospect of another insane military endeavour into the vale.

“We shall take another route, find another way... then use the tactics we learned in Ashenvale, our army is far better trained and able than it was a year ago” answered the prince, holding his own head high as well.

“What of their allies? The red blades and the covenant will not sit idly by while we take the vale, if you even manage to defeat the trolls, they would come and a full scale war right on our border would break out!” added Fortesgue, his tone alarmed yet more confused than the others.

“The empire has isolated itself; Tziak has made enemies of his allies and distanced himself from the covenant... proven by the trolls absence in Ashenvale” Seiken uttered back with a bowed head to the bishop before adding “The empire, daring as they have become, are in a terrible position... they know what I am suggesting is unthinkable, which is exactly why we should do it...”

The Hall fell silent, the seated leaders quiet in thought, and most of all Maelmoor, who stroked his beard while maintaining a musing stare at Trollbane.

Good, their curious of the prospect of it working... but they are uncertain, they need assurance... of which I have none...

Clap, clap, and clap. The sound of plated hands clapping gently and with restrained enthusiasm echoed at the back of the hall, behind where Maelmoor sat. Slowly standing up, Aegnian finished his applause and began to approach the head table, dragging a long black cloak across the floor behind him.
Those sat around and stood by the table fixed their eyes upon the tall warrior and his dark armour, Maelmoor and Fortesgue squinted their eyes with suspicious glares. Seiken however produced a small smile on his lips.

“Your plan is daring, and risky, Trollbane... though I suppose it is to be expected of you” Aegnian spoke as he presumptuously took a seat at Seiken’s side. His rough, deep voice echoing with a powerful resonance throughout the chamber.

“Risky? His plan depends on far too much, it will only erupt in chaos” uttered Maelmoor with a grunt, still eyeing Aegnian with suspicion.

“Aye, risky. But the word amongst the Army and Mercenaries is that his risky plans work... and if it worked, well...” Aegnian paused; peering around the table at those assembled a moment before he continued “...imagine if it did work. You’d no longer have to worry about the southern menace, or Troll raids for slaves and sacrifices... I personally like the idea of a world without the Gurubashi” he finished, sitting back into his chair casually, a wry grin visible for all to see.

Thank the Light and Thoradin for such warriors...

Seiken slowly lent forward placing his elbows on the solid ornate table, his face pressed against his closed hands so that it covered his mouth, awaiting the reaction.

Maelmoor sat back in his seat, his elbow placed firmly upon the chairs arm, and his cheek upon the knuckles of his hand. His stare was now one of contemplation, the weighing of odds and finally of the risks.

His voice came, horse and rough from under his breath while his body and eye’s made not a single movement... “We shall vote then...”

Everyone sat up slowly, aside from Seiken and Maelmoor who maintained their poses, though Seiken narrowed his intent gaze upon the old paladin.

The moment of truth has come, please let their wisdom and courage triumph over their doubts. We need this, they need this...

Fortesgue coughed gently, blinking his eyes, thoughts running through his mind before he spoke.

“I... cannot in good conscience commit to this plan if you do not at least have a route of attack. Though, if you should find one... I shall reconsider, I shall abstain” the bishop finished, Gahalla patting him gently on his left shoulder.

Everyone’s eyes moved along to the next person, Aarian, sitting with his head held high.

“I will Vote yes, and shall ride into battle with my sworn allies, for this just cause” the chaplain nodded with a gentle smile, turning his head to his left to hear the next decision, from Maelmoor.

The wizened old paladin had still not moved an inch, his eyes and brows making small movements as he stared at the ground in deep unmovable thought. Moments became a minute as time dragged on, everyone waiting eagerly for his verdict.

“The Cause is righteous, and ordinarily I would be the first to commit to such a proposal...” he paused a moment, shuffling his body so he could lean on the table with his right elbow, looking Seiken straight in the eye.

“...but the risks are too great, so I agree with Fortesgue and will reconsider if and when you find this unlikely route into the Vale” Maelmoor finished, slumping back into his grand seat slowly.

They speak with wisdom, of that I am certain, but their courage is overshadowed by caution and fear...

The silence was broken by muttering as all eyes looked to Burgen, who sat kneeling on his chair ready to speak up. Dorik however was pushing and tugging on the Dwarf commanders beard to try and whisper to Burgen, though clearly he didn’t speak quietly enough.

“we shoul’ go if he gives us some ale! Shootin Trolls and drinkin ale! I can ‘even try oot ma new grenades!” Urged Dorik, tugging on Burgen’s red whiskers so hard he barely kept his balance.

“Ger off ya mad oaf!” exclaimed Burgen, swiping Dorik aside with his hand and standing up.

“Ahem, tha dwarven rifle squad will nay vote until we receive a decision from Ironforge an’ King Magni, oh... and ya find a route” Burgen nodded, before being pulled down by Dorik pulling on his beard once more.

While the two dwarves squabbled some more, in particular with Burgen whacking Dorik on the head, all eyes moved to Aegnian. The Muscular warrior had however changed his expression, his wry grin changed to a firm gaze aimed toward the prince.

“I’m afraid the logic behind their decision is quite sound Trollbane, I’ll have to insist on you finding a route before I commit any of my own men...” Aegnian took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair.

A road, a road...

An exasperated sigh pushed its way from Seiken’s lungs as he stood up from his seat.

“If that is the will of you all, then so be it, we shall find a route...”

Everyone nodded once in recognition as Seiken Turned and walked away from the table, maintaining their various individual expressions, especially Maelmoor and his glare of suspicion.

My good fortune Rest’s on the wings of a Hawk and its master...

(( Awesome beans! Still you've kept up the same standard of writing, I am impressed. I also thank you for making my completely boring day at work not boring =D ))

(( Gettin' more and more interesting as the big fightin' approaches! And I never thought I'd learn this much of the server's history. The part with the two dwarves at the meeting made me chuckle...pure gold. ))