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Previous threads
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=alterac

These are the lands of alterac, fairest of all the kingdoms. Your inheritance is the town of Strahnbrad, located at the center of the royal road that passes through alterac and is the lifeblood that sustains your people. The lands to the north are your domain, and encircled on the map. It includes bountiful farmland and groves that are in good demand for building ships.

The closest fortress to you is Falcon's Rest. The ancient halls of your fathers and currently occupied by you. Further to the North lies Eagle's Perch, an Alteraci Fortress that is claimed by the Alliance forces led by the Lordaeronian general Othmar Garithos.

To the south, at tower pointe is the Garrison that was commanded by general Hath during the second war. It lies abandoned now that Stromgarde forces have withdrawn from the passses. It falls to the king, Isiden Perenolde to
nominate a new garrison commander, and is a high honor the new noble houses are jostling for.

On the other hand, you have nearly been assassinated by a shadowy group that calls itself the Syndicate. They have promised to make Alterac run red with the blood of people like you and offer it to their new masters.

>>46929686
Ya there op?

>>46929686
The brown block shows the location of Thoras Trollbane's army. Alterac has historically been the weakest of the human nations due to it's size and manpower. Right before the orcs invaded azeroth, Stromgarde had attempted to invade Alterac and were beaten back by general Hath at tower pointe.

While the restoration of Alterac is underway, Trollbane has constructed a fortified encampment right outside the borders of alterac and withdrawn his forces there. Time will tell if he will stand down or strike out once more.

You have problems of your own to deal with. The leader of the Alliance forces has been slighted by your militia's attempt to retake Falcon's Rest, and had besieged it.

>>46929957
You order your forces to stand down and move to the western entrance of Alterac valley. The mages from Dalaran have confirmed your suspicion that there might be demons involved, and you lead your cavalry to deal with them.

The battle is perhaps the strangest you fight in your career. You find orcs who are being attacked by other orcs and the traitorous forces of the syndicate, and form a loose alliance with them. It ends with you finding out that your brother Otto is beyond saving and that general Hath had sold his soul out. To find your idol fallen is crushing, and you try to forget yourself in drink.

In the midst of drinking with your soldiers you hit upon a brilliant idea and write it down before falling asleep.
>>46929936
yes

>>46930051
You wake up, your head and body feeling like a herd of horses trampled over it. Most of the men around you are sleeping on the benches and logs. The smell is a mixture of ash, sweat and piss. The first thing you do is look for a bucket to throw up into.

After doing that you remember writing something when you were drunk. On the other hand, the sentries are nowhere to be seen.

>look for the sentries
>try and find the paper.

>>46930229
>look for the sentries

because the most revolutionary ideas are ones reached when in a drunken stupor.

check something isnt on fire which is probably why there is a smell of ash and why they are gone, and maybe blow our commander horn to wake all these bums up if need be

>>46930376
(the smell of ash is because of the campfires bruh)

You wonder where the damn sentries are. You are still in hostile territory, and despite the fact that your men fought admirably and acquitted themselves well, they are at the end of the day still green soldiers. This would barely count as a skirmish compared to grim batol.

You wonder if going through the motions of finding them might be too tiring. You were the same once, drinking so hard after your first battle that you forgot your name.
The quartermaster responded by blowing the warhorn at the start of the day when all the brothers were hungover. That taught them all the value of drinking in moderation.

>Play something on the trumpet at full volume, waking everyone up
>deal with the sentries discreetly.

>>46930786
>>Play something on the trumpet at full volume, waking everyone up

>>46930786
>deal with the sentries discreetly

scold the sentries good, they couldn't have been spent since we haven't whipped them yet

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Forget finding the sentries. the entire unit needs to learn a lesson. That will teach them to drink moderately in the future. And leave the sentries at their posts. You walk back to the fireside. Benedict is still sleeping with his trumpet in his backpack. You pick it up in your arms and cradle it like a baby as you walk to the sentries' tower.

You climb upwards, feeling the wind in your hair and stand and look at the lake. So quiet. So pristine. Then you put the trumpet to your lips and start blowing. The song is Eagle in the Morning. A loud proud tone that fills your heart with pride, but now it might as well be an earsplitting racket of orcs.

That wakes the camp up. Thinking they are under attack, you watch as nearly two hundred drunk and hungover men stumble up and try to get their weapons.

>let the commotion continue
>chastise them with a speech: Write in.

>>46931261
>>let the commotion continue

>>46931261
>>let the commotion continue

>>46931261
tfw knew this would happen

TOO LATE

promote ourself to rabble rouser and call it a day

You let the commotion continue. Let the fools think that they are under attack. The panic will sober them up soon enough. The orcs you fought or the stromgarde brigade would have butchered the lot. Once it is done, you will need to speak with the men. Then you need to speak with the sentries.

You spy the tracks leading outward. Two sets. Iron shod boots, and they are walking towards the orc camp. Had the orcs lured the sentries away?

>talk to the men now
>go after the sentries

>>46931526
>>go after the sentries

>>46931526
>talk to the men now

If the sentries are gone, there could be trouble, and we don't want to wander off alone again.

>>46931526
>>talk to the men now
"I'm all for celebrating after a victory, but let this be a reminder to do it in moderation until we're back behind our walls."

>>46931526
>talk to the men now
no good to be so drunk on victory we cant take care of ourselves

>>46931571
>>46931574
>>46931621

You would talk with the sentries later. The men that were milling around and turning the camp upside down were a bit of your concern. They were boys who had caught a lucky break, not career soldiers. You would need to watch over them as a mother duck over her ducklings.

You blow another blast on the trumpet and that brings them to attention. You see a man, being helped to stand with the two men around him. The sight is comical. Its all you can do not to laugh.

"Gentlemen. I trust you had a good time last night." Several cheers and ayes come floating back.

"Good, I am glad for you. All we needed was for the orcs in yonder encampment to fall upon us and we would all be slaughtered like pigs. You saw what they did to my father's men, and what they did to otto. Tell me, do you want to end up as a cripple and sport to the leering savages?"

The silence is deafening. You repeat your question, a shade louder this time.

"Well, DO YOU?"

"No sir." Good old Benedictus. He sees the trumpet in your hands.

"We are only as strong as the weakest one of us. If any one of us slips and falls, the man next to him loses his life. We are soldiers. We fight together, and we win together. Let this be a lesson to you, I love the celebrations that victory brings, but let us save it when we are behind our walls. "
The men are looking contrite. You feel a little bad for them.
"At least there will be more women there."

You get down from the sentry outlook amid a few cheers. To their credit, despite the hangovers, the men are rushing to their tasks, and cleaning their weapons.

>look for the magi
>look for the sentries

>>46931801
>>look for the magi

We should bring her with to find the sentries.

>>46931801
>>look for the sentries

Rolled 1 (1d2)

You wonder where your guests have gone. The magi were of critical importance to the battle and the last you remember of them was them going off to their corner of the encampment. You wanted to talk to them about what had happened to the demon or what it meant now. And also because you wanted to see the arcanist again.

The camp is bustling with activity as your soldiers clean the mess from last night. Most of them look away from your eyes and a few offer up salutes which you return in kind. The chastisement will not break them. It will make them stronger. They are still your boys, and part of your command.

By the time you reach the sentries stationed outside their tents, the camp seems to be back to fully functional. A pair of sentries now man the lookout and everything seems to be in order.
The soldiers stationed outside give you a salute as you walk in. You come out furiously in a moment.

The mages are gone.

>ask the sentries where they went.
>begin to look for them yourself.
>look for the sentries posted at the lookout who have gone missing.

>>46932075
>>look for the sentries posted at the lookout who have gone missing.

>>46932075
>look for the sentries posted at the lookout who have gone missing.

We should also ask those sentries if the mages are alright before doing this.

>>46932075
>>ask the sentries where they went.

The sentries are as clueless as you are
"We don't know milord. We was drinking last knight and Brod here nearly died in his own vomit. I was taking care of him, reckoned it would be bad that he survived the battle and drowned in his bile"

Brod seems to take umbrage at that fact and opens his mouth. You silence the two of them with a raised hand. "I will have you know that the two of you are the worst sentries on either side of the Thandol span."

Your mood is black and you walk towards the stables. You see Benedict leading some men in cleaning the horses. You beckon him over and grab the nearest saddled horse. Benedict does the same.

The newer pair of sentries salute the two of you as you set out to follow the trail of the sentries. You notice that there are several smaller sets of footprints in parallel with the sentries iron shod tracks. You have no idea what they are.

The ride takes you all the way to the orc encampment, and even as you reach it, the orcs barring the way let the two of you through, as though you have been expected.

The two of you are pointed towards the center of the encampment, and you see the older orcs in wolf pelts and the mages talking. The two sentries are there as well, and a gaggle of orcish children surrounds the two men. They are all busy, and no one notices you or benedict.

>announce your presence by addressing the magi
>announce your presence by addressing the sentries

>>46932390
>>announce your presence by addressing the sentries

Our men have misbehaved, we can't let the orcs see them getting away with it.

>>46932390
>>announce your presence by addressing the sentries
We are in charge of our men not others. If they want to borrow our men, they must at least ask before taking our men.

>>46932390
>>announce your presence by addressing the sentries
Even if the magi asked them to accompany them, they should have stayed their posts/patrols. Remind them they shall be punished for this later.

"Having some fun are we boys?"
There is no mirth in your voice as you say this. Your men have abandoned their post, and for their sake you hope they are exceptionally good liars or have a damn good reason.

The closer man turns pale when he looks at you. He manages a salute and his partner turns into a similar shade of white. Curiously, the orc children do the same. All of them salute you. Their tiny green hands raised up to their heads.

"I didn't know your sentry duty extended to the orc encampment lads. I expected you to raise the alarm, not go off fraternizing with these."
You point towards the orcs.


"We were just following orders skipp- I mean Lord Falconcrest. Those children was coming into our encampent and we tried shooing them away, but they didn't go. We didn't want to raise the alarm because of a bunch of wee orclets." The first man stammers.

"How very considerate of you. And how does that explain you not being at your posts and being here in the orc encampment?"

"The mage prince and the old mage. Wanted us to lead them back to their encampment. We would refuse but we was afraid they would turn us into sheep milord." It is hard to tell if the man is lying or telling the truth. He is shivering considerably.

"Is that so?"

"I swears on me mum and Bob's mum too milord. We didn't wants to become sheep."

"I will talk to the mages about this. Light help you if you are lying. Carry on soldier."

You turn and walk into the circle, and stand behind Rathaella, watching her. Modera and Kael are discussing something with the elders but rathaella seems bored. She looks at you and gives you a quick squeeze of the hand.

This is entirely unexpected.

>ask rathaella why she did that.
>ask Kael'thas or modera what they are doing here.

>>46932814
>>ask Kael'thas or modera what they are doing here.

>>46932814
return the squeeze.
>>ask Kael'thas or modera what they are doing here.

>>46932814
>>ask Kael'thas or modera what they are doing here.

>>46932814
Return hand squeeze,
>>ask Kael'thas or modera what they are doing here.

inb4 love triangle between us, Anna and qt Elf

>>46932896
Nah, elf will have the hots for jaina.

Almost as if by reflex, you squeeze her hand. She does have the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. You can talk to her later. You have business to attend to.

"Prince Kael'Thas, Archmage Modera. If I may interrupt your academic discussion."

Archmage modera takes no notice. Prince Kael'thas turns around and looks at you as though you are a particularly irritating fly buzzing around his head.

"Ah, Lord Falconcrest. Glad you could join us, I would have expected you to rest for a while. I am sure Arcanist Rathaella would agree with that assessment."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her turn into a delicate shade of pink.

"That may be so prince Kael'thas. However I have campaigned and fought long enough to recover from minor scrapes and bruises. Not all of us have the long life or arcane power to study magic while our homes fall apart."

The prince's purpling face tells you that he has grasped the meaning behind it well and true. There is nothing he can say without embarrassing himself. You fought at Quel'Thalas, alongside the high elves, while the Prince was in Dalaran. Your positions in the war mirrors his to a fault.

"Kindly have me know when we are ready to set out, I only await your command." You finish with the slightest of bows.

"Very well lord anlec, Lady Modera is telling the orcs about what happened to most of their kind during the war. She has explained to them that they are largely prisoners now, and as it stands, they are in Alteraci soil. Your land. Their chieftain wishes to speak with you."

>accept the invitation, speak with drek'thar now
>decline the invitation, speak with drek'thar later


(looks like the lads are returning)

>>46933136
>>accept the invitation, speak with drek'thar now

>>46933136
>>accept the invitation, speak with drek'thar now

We gotta make it clear that if we're associated with them in any way, the Alliance is going to bring the day of the rope to Alterac, so they need to keep quiet.

>>46933136
>>accept the invitation, speak with drek'thar now

>>46933136
>>accept the invitation, speak with drek'thar now

"Is their chieftain available to speak with now? I would prefer to get this out of the way."

Modera hears that at least. You wonder if she had been listening to you and Prince Kael'Thas as well. How different are they from people like you, you wonder. She grunts and growls and the old orc is wheeled in front of you on a chair. The old warrior with the strange blade is standing behind him.

"Chieftain Drek'thar?" The question is a mere formality.
"Fal-kon-krest" The old brute grunts out in response.

"I am not going to waste your time. You and your people are on Alteraci land. You have heard that my nation's interaction with your kind has nearly brought us to our ruin. I am willing to let your people leave by the eastern pass. Leave as soon as you can. There is no need for bloodshed between us."

Modera translates as deftly as she can but sweet words cannot allay the import of what you mean.

The orcs tense and several of them grasp their crude axes and and swords. You fight an urge to take a step back. To do so would be to show cowardice and the orcs can sense weakness.

"Chieftain Drek'thar says that they have respected this land far more than your kind. He says they live with harmony with the land and do not see the names of Alterac or Falconcrest writ upon this valley. He says blaming them for the actions of other clans would be like blaming Alterac for the actions of your father.

>write in response
>roll 3d6+1 to persuade drek'thar.

(note, the orcs will not leave alterac without bloodshed, this roll determines how the orcs treat you after this incident is over. If the worst happens we can kill them all later)

Rolled 6, 1, 3 + 1 = 11 (3d6 + 1)

>>46933661

Rolled 4, 3, 5 + 1 = 13 (3d6 + 1)

>>46933661
"So be it then. Just try to stay discrete, and hopefully no one else will know that you're here.

Rolled 5, 6, 3 + 1 = 15 (3d6 + 1)

>>46933661
Attempting to roll, never done it before

Rolled 2, 5, 2 = 9 (3d6)

>>46933661
>>46933738
Gonna roll with this.

>>46933753
>persuade roll: success.

"I know it galls you old orc, but this is the hand you are dealt. I hate to present this choice to you. Believe me, I would rather not have come here at all."

You turn around and look at the orc children, they seem to be poking the sentries and one of them is offering him what looks like dried meat, while two others try and up on the other sentry.
You have seen these orcs as savage beasts on the battlefield, but never like this. You would be as bad as those that condemned your nation to the sword if you kill them.

Modera is translating when you stop her. Taking a deep breath you begin to speak.
"Old orc, on pain of death, your clan is to remain here in this valley, it is abandoned by my people, and we have no need of it. But beware if you step out from it's confines, for I shall kill your clan. This I promise you."

You have cast the die, may the light forgive you.

As modera is done translating, the orcs growl and a few of them make threatening gestures, but the old orc silences them. It says something that Modera translates.

"Well spoken human, my warriors would like to kill you for this outburst, but I see the truth in your words. You haven't harmed my clan yet, and speak as well as you allow. I cannot fault you for caring about the welfare of your clan. Let us hope we never have to meet again, for both my sake and yours."

You nod and extend your hand from instinct. The old orc does the same.

Even as you do so, you can hear the trumpets from your scouts blaring in the distance. A single rider is rushing madly towards you, wearing the livery of your riders.

"Milord, the militia. The militia, by the eagle, the militia..."

"What about it you blithering fool? Speak quickly."

"The militia have been arrested milord. The Alliance generals and the King have entered the valley, They ride with the vanguard and will be here within the hour!"

This is getting better and better.

>stay in the orc encampment
>return to your riders

>>46934104
>>return to your riders

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>>46934104
>>return to your riders

We gotta turn them back!

>>46934104
>>return to your riders

looks like anlec is getting a viking crew cut lads.

>>46934104
>return to your riders
Let the Chieftain know whats up and maybe he may want to move slightly farther down the valley.

This is a disaster. If the militia has been arrested, it means you are to stand trial for breaching the peace and starting a war with Lordaeron. You might have a leg to stand on but
you are now in the presence of the orcs. You will probably lose your head in Alterac Valley.

A blind panic seizes you and you run outside the circle. Your men, you have to get back to your men! You need to put some distance between the orcs and yourself. Right now.
You tremble as you try to mount the horse and fall over the first time. Panic grips you. Every moment you waste now brings your demise closer. You ride all the way back to the camp at a breakneck speed, and watch as the men there salute you.

A soft voice behind you startles you, and you see the tent flap open. A woman, slender and incredibly beautiful stands, her figure illuminated perfectly as a silhouette from the sunlight outside. A blind panic seizes you as you recoil from her.

Is this an angel of justice, come to bring you to your end?

Even as you shield your eyes from the apparition, it comes closer into the room.

"Anlec? What is wrong?"

That voice. You have heard that before.

Its Rathaella. She has followed you, concerned about you after you ran away from the encampment.

"I am ruined, Rathaella. I will be an traitor, an alteraci who hobnobs with orcs just like his traitor king and traitor brothers. The Alliance armies are approaching from the western pass. My militia has been arrested, and I am standing at a stone's throw away from the orcs. Can you take me away far from here?"

She hugs you tightly, and whispers. " I will be alright. Listen to me. It will be alright. I promise. These orcs are not like the others."

"They don't care. If it is a greenskin and a man of Alterac, they both die. Never should have come here."

"Listen to me, Anlec. I have a plan."

>listen to Rathaella.
>ask her to spirit you away.

>>46934394
>>listen to Rathaella.

She's been the voice of reason so far, she couldn't lead us wrong now.

>>46934394
>>listen to Rathaella.

>>46934394
>>listen to Rathaella.

>>46934394
>>listen to Rathaella.

>>46934394
>"Oh that's right. I have my own plan I think you should take a look at."
>"It's in my pants."

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>>46934542
>hfw

>>46934542
Supportin.

>>46934394
>listen to Rathaella.

You breathe deeply, and hold on to her. Your panic has made you a scared child, and you are ready to listen to any voice, especially one as comforting and beautiful as her.

Your breathing helps you calm your mind and you listen.

"Anlec, Archmage Modera and Prince Kael'thas are ruling members of the council of six. They will be able to convince the alliance leaders that you were working to help them in an investigation into alterac valley. Listen to me."

"It is fine for them. The very fact that I am here, standing over a ransacked camp with human bodies in it, while the orcs have a camp right next to me is reason enough to be executed as a traitor. I should have known better. I should have planned for this."

Then it hits you. You did write down something, something that would deal with the orcs peacefully and make you stand out in the eyes of the king and your people. You had put the paper in your...

Quickly, you let go of her, and start unlacing your breeches.

"Cmon, help me here Arcanist."

"What is it you are doing? Why are you unlacing your breeches?"

"My plan. It is IN those breeches?"

"This is no time for making crude jokes Anlec."
Rathaella's face has become a bright cherry red. So focused you are on your plan that you don't even think that you are stripping yourself infront of a woman who is an accomplished mage, and can turn you into a sheep.

As you finally unlace your breeches, you look up and see Rathaella hide her face behind her hands. You pull up the paper and read what you wrote.

The handwriting is terrible, but legible
"Ask orcs to become alterac internment camp in valley."

Yes, of course! The perfect solution. An internment camp for orcs that would allow them to live here at relative peace and without bloodshed.

You look back at Rathaella, and see her face is red with rage.

"What is wrong?"

She takes the paper from your hand and turns it over.

On the other side of the paper, crudely drawn are two people engaged in coitus. One of them has the dark hair that is closely cropped, and a hint of a beard, and the other one is clearly an elf with light hair.

What were you thinking?

>tell Rathaella you were drunk
>run out of the room and meet with drek'thar.

>>46934881
>>tell Rathaella you were drunk

>>46934881
Actually, I don't see a reason why we can't do both.
Add >run out of the room and meet with drek'thar.

>>46934881
>>run out of the room and meet with drek'thar.
HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

>>46934881
>>run out of the room and meet with drek'thar.

We should probably put our pants back on though.

>>46934924
>Actually, I don't see a reason why we can't do both.
she will demand an explanation, then you have do a drop spaghetti check.

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If you guys are enjoying this, don't forget to pop on to the archives and vote for the thread.
Also, her pic

>>46934952
can we at least mention that we were drunk on our way out the door before she can say anything else?

>>46934975
Meh trim the damn eyebrows.

>>46934991
>not digging the eyebrows
Peasant with pleb taste detected.

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>>46935021
Bitch I'm a night elf Mohawk I will kill your whole fucking family!!!

>>46935039
calm down, Mr. T. Have a snickers.

>>46935064
Why?

Your face is suddenly hotter than the sun, and words stick at the back of your throat. Hastily you begin to pull up your breeches and thank the light that there are none of your men here. While you are lacing your breeches, you mumble hastily that you were drunk, and promise to make it up to her.

You rush out, your face radiating heat like the sun itself and ask for a fresh horse. Benedict is dismounting from his horse. You order him to welcome the alliance vanguard into the encampent and delay them as long as he possibly can. As he turns his horse away with the house Falconcrest banners and orders the men to mount up behind him, you set off for the Orcish encampment.

The orcs let you through and you don't bother to dismount. You ride down the entire line and demand to speak with drek'thar. The orcs don't speak common, but they understand the name Drek'thar.

The orc, Galvangar comes and holds the reins of your horses and leads you to a tent made of wolf furs. The chieftain is there, and thankfully Modera is there too. Of Prince Kael'Thas, there is no sign.

"My lady I need you to translate for me right NOW." Archmage modera is not habituated to listen to demands like these and it shows on her face. In the dim light of the chieftain's hut, you notice that she looks attractive without the lines on her face.

"Why would that be Lord Falconcrest. You seem to have made Prince Kael'thas angry. He doesn't think very highly of you, and I am inclined to agree."

"Because your pet orcs lives - and mine - depend upon it! You heard the rider. The alliance forces will kill every last one of us if they see us here with the orcs!"

"And that is my problem how?"

"I don't know you annoying bitch, just translate so we don't get an troll's crewcut."

Modera's eyes sparkle dangerously and you worry for a moment that you have gone too far. Then the orc growls something, and modera answers that.

"Very well, he will listen to you. Just be quick about it."

>>46935247
"tell him that I can allow to live peacefully in the valley, if he agrees to pretend to surrender to me."

The outburst from the orc is not unexpected, but it is withering.

"He tells that he would rather let his clan die than be the slaves to humans."

"Tell him that he will not have the choice soon. If he doesn't take it, his clan will be killed down to the last woman and child."

Another pause as the orc listens and then it responds. Modera translates.

"He says that they left their old world because the other clans wanted them to worship demons. They found refuge here instead. This is their last home. They will defend it to the last."

"Tell him I don't care. He can have this land for his own. All he has to do is pretend that he is surrendering to me, and we can take care of the rest. The alliance internment act requires that every alliance nation pay for the orcish camps. Tell him that he can have Alterac valley as his land. He doesn't have to die today."

>roll 3d6+2 to convince.

Rolled 4, 6, 4 + 2 = 16 (3d6 + 2)

>>46935337
Farkin barmy coonts!!

Rolled 1, 1, 5 + 2 = 9 (3d6 + 2)

>>46935337

>>46935379
Bitch get on my level!!

Nah I love ya Wren!

Rolled 6, 4, 2 + 2 = 14 (3d6 + 2)

>>46935337
fug :DDD

how are you lads liking it so far?
is the pacing better than the last thread?

>>46935423
A bit but it seems like Anlec loses his head half the time. The other half he is super serious I was in a war fuck you!

>>46935423
definitely liking it.
Pacing seems ok to me.

>>46935437
yeah. If it is stuff about fighting, he is pretty good. But being caught by everyone gargling the big green cock is scary. Hell, his family is dead because they did that.

Its like living in a /pol/ neighborhood and giving starving syrians food. Your neighbors will kill you for being a 'shitskin lover'

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>>46935423
Pacing is good, I'm enjoying the quest. Anon above is right though, Anlec could use a bit more consistency to his characterization. He seems to mainly be the gruff war veteran forced into herding cats, so that's probably the characterization you should go for.

Keep it up senpai.

As Modera is done speaking, the orc stares in your direction intently. For the second time, you believe that the orc doesn't need eyes to see. It takes a deep breath and speaks, slowly than ever before.

"Do I have your word on this Falconcrest?"
You pause.
"You do."

"And of what value is your word?"


"It is valuable enough that I slew mine own brother with my hands, because that was the price of your clan's aid. Judge for yourself. Just be quick about it."

The orc takes it's time to answer, and you can sense the minutes flow by. Then it bellows, and the assistant, Galvangar comes in. Drek'thar says something to him, and the orc leaves, looking darkly at you.

Modera sighs, with relief.

"Well?" You ask her.

"They accepted your offer. You certainly have a way with words. If only your manners weren't so abrasive."

"I learn from the best."

And with that parting quip, you leave the tent, Modera following you. You help her on to a horse, and she gracefully accepts your help. The two of you begin to ride for the rider's encampment when you see another figure rushing towards you. It is Rathaella, her hair flowing gracefully in the wind behind her. She stops and addresses Modera.

"My lady, the Alliance leaders have requested your presence on the far side of the lake, and Lord Falconcrest has been summoned there by the King Isiden Perenolde."

You notice she doesn't look at you once as she says that. Then the three of of you begin to trot alongside the lake, and head off into the distance where the leaders are located. You notice that you are in the center of the trio

>talk to rathaella about the picture.
>ask modera where Kael'thas is

>>46935718
>>ask modera where Kael'thas is

>>46935718
>ask modera where Kael'thas is

>>46935718
>>ask modera where Kael'thas is
Kael'thas hates us and is probably gonna tell the King about our deal with the orcs, we need to shut him down. Lewd drawings can wait.

>>46935718
>>ask modera where Kael'thas is
Now is not the time to think with our dicks.
That comes later.

Again, your mouth feels strangely dry when you look at Rathaella. She is glowering angrily at you, but her anger makes her look even more beautiful. Her blue-green eyes shine like the lagoons of Stranglethorn vale.

Tearing away from those eyes, you increase the pace of your horse and move closer to the archmage.

"Begging your pardon Archmage - "

"Oh, so you CAN apologize. Excuse me for not knowing better." This woman is insufferable. You wonder if a mage's skill and abrasiveness were related. It was often the same with young warriors, yet the best were the humblest. Mages seems to lack the latter kind.

"I was wondering where Prince Kael'Thas was."

"He is gone for a while. He should be back soon, don't worry. He will agree with your little - plan."
You were uncomfortable with the way she said the last word.

"I suppose you want your pound of flesh for helping me with your skill as a translator?"

"For that, and more, young man." She pats your head like you are a little schoolboy. Being patronized by her is even worse than being passively threatened by her.

"Name your price then."

"I want unlimited access to these orcs. You see, I am researching them, and having unlimited access to internment camps would be of great use to me. Me and anyone with me."

It seems a simple enough request, and you agree.

"Good. Let us charm the high aand mighty members of the Alliance then."

The Pavilion the alliance forces have set up is big, and you see knights patrolling it. A squadron of them comes up and asks who you are. Lady Modera answers them, and the knights allow the three of you, escorting you.

You see Benedict and the riders surrounded by several of the knights. Lady Modera and Rathaella are moving into the pavilion

>collect Benedict and enter with him as your banner bearer
>enter with the magi.

>>46936008
>>collect Benedict and enter with him as your banner bearer

We are a lord of the realm, after all.

>>46936008
>>enter with the magi.

>>46936008
>>collect Benedict and enter with him as your banner bearer

>>46936008
>>collect Benedict and enter with him as your banner bearer

>>46936008

>collect Benedict and enter with him as your banner bearer

(Holy shit its sleepy)

You let the mages enter. You do not follow them. Instead you walk over to the alliance knights who seem to be holding your men.

"Why are you holding these men?"

"They were acting suspicious."

"They are my men, and you will release them immediately."

"and who are you?"

"Lord Falconcrest. You are arresting my household troops on suspicion that is flimsy. I want them released immediately."

The knights salute you and let your men go. You order them to go back to the encampment and get some rest. You beckon Benedictus to follow you. He is still carrying your banner. Good man. You should see about him getting a raise.

The guards at the pavilion let the two of you enter, saluting stiffly.

Inside, you see a variety of characters. You recognize the king, Isiden Perenolde sitting in a chair, and the Gilnean, Godfrey standing over him like a hawk.

To your surprise, you spy Uther the Lightbringer there as well, the grizzled paladin a towering presence with his book and hammer.

Othmar Garithos is there as well, looking smugly at you through his hilariously bushy mustache.

You bow to the king, and nod at Uther. He nods back. Good, so far he treats you as a respected knight.

"So, here we are at last. The man of the hour. Lord Anlec Falconcrest." The king's voice is regal and completely calm. To the gilnean's credit, they had groomed Isiden to sound like a king. He was quite popular too, among the people. However a roguish charm and those pretty boy looks would only go so far.

"I have heard wonderful, terrifying tales about you, lord falconcrest. Lord Uther and Lady Modera name you to be a peerless warrior and an excellent general. I know that you make the most heartfelt speeches, and Lord Garithos says that you are a rabble rouser and warmonger. What say you to that?"

>write in
>roll 3d6+1 cunning check.

Rolled 5, 2, 5 + 1 = 13 (3d6 + 1)

>>46936294
That he's a war mongering fucking idiot. He only has a warrant to police until we cannot protect ourselves. My men were doing just that.

Rolled 2, 2, 6 + 1 = 11 (3d6 + 1)

>>46936294
"Lord Garithos is a belligerent lout with his head too far up his own arse."

Rolled 5, 2, 4 = 11 (3d6)

>>46936294
"I'm surprised Lord Garithos could find his way out of his own ass long enough to get her."

Rolled 5, 3, 6 + 1 = 15 (3d6 + 1)

>>46936294
Point out his incompetence by failing to do his job and securing the region by sitting in his forts all day behind solid walls, while incursions by orks and rebel insurrections brew. Point out how we HAD to deal with them instead and had to raise a militia for that, because of his lazy ass.

Rolled 5, 3, 4 + 1 = 13 (3d6 + 1)

>>46936294
Garithos is a chump and you're the only one defending the realm.

So just were is the ork camp on the map and just how much land did we have to give up. I had plans for that valley. I hope its not including our agricultural heartland. Thats gonna hurt us long run.

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192 KB JPG

>>46936655
>Alterac Valley
>agricultural

Considering it's a snowy rectangle walled in by mountains on all sides in the game...

(you cheeky fuckers win this one)

"My King, before I begin, I would thank you for entering Alterac Valley. It has been over two centuries since a perenolde has graced this valley with his presence."

You pause, and watch a murmur ripple through the crowd. Other people there, people you don't know begin talking among themselves.

"My king, I have fought alongside all the notable personages you mentioned, with one exception. Lord Garithos. Those who have fought by me, speak praises, and yet, those who have not call me warmonger and rabble rouser. Lord Uther, were you not there beside me as we fought into the maelstrom of demon crazed orcs to carry Lord Lothar's body out of battle?"
Uther nods. "Yes, I did boy, you were an honorable warrior then, but far more calm and collected than I could imagine one so young to be. Cold as ice on the field of battle, and the warmest man off it. Not the best fighter, but an better tactician."

"Tell me Lord Uther, do you think I would randomly raise a militia to spark a war between Alterac and the rest of the alliance?"

The man bursts out laughing. "At the very least, I would think you smarter than that. You knew when to fight and when to flee."

"Thank you lord Uther. Yes, I raised a militia to defend my lands. Who wouldn't? There was a new king on the throne, and our armies were shattered, and General Hath had disappeared. What would happen when the vultures came to feast on our raw wounded flesh? I did as a lord ought to, and protected my lands, and guarded my people."

"What about Falcon's Rest? Why did you oust the garrison from there and take it as your own? It belonged to the alliance forces." Lord Garithos is quick to ask.

"Because it is the ancestral halls of my fathers. Surely my king doesn't intend for me to rule from the Strahnbrad Town hall until I grow old and die?"

"It was a fortress held by men of the alliance expeditionary forces until Alterac had been deemed secure."

>>46936753

"King Thoras Trollbane, no friend of alterac judged it right to withdraw from the very fort his men had tried to besiege unsuccessfully before we were born. Even though he keeps his forces close to Alterac ready to pounce on us like an eagle upon a hare, he left our ancient halls free."
This line, coming from the king, surprises you. It would seem that he is on your side.

You watch as the king continues. "Tell me lord Garithos, did your men not abandon Falcon's Rest?"

"Only to regroup, my lord. The tax riots had threatened our supply lines and we needed to-"

"But you chose to withdraw completely. Lord Falconcrest cannot be blamed for wanting to rule from his father's holdings. You left it open for us to take, and my loyal servant took it. What sort of general tells his forces to abandon a location completely if he wants to hold it?"

Lord garithos doesn't have an answer to that.

"Well then, my lord lightbringer, Lady Abbendis, I am happy to put my views in this. If Lord Falconcrest is capable of pulling together a militia to take his father's lands, Alterac is able to hold it."

A severe looking woman nods her assent at Isiden's judgement and Uther looks at Garithos as if he is a particularly nasty bug.

"My lords and ladies, then it will be my pleasure to present Lord Falconcrest with the deed to Falcon's Rest."

Isiden beckon's you closer, and a page in eagle heraldry holds out a dusty parchment on which the king's seal is shown. As you bow down to receive it, Isiden whispers into your ear. "Now you owe me."

>say something back to the king alone : write in
>withdraw gracefully

>>46936915
>>say something back to the king alone :

Something along the lines of "Don't fuck this up, kid"

>>46936915
>withdraw gracefully

>>46936975
actually, we are around the same age as him. Some 15 odd years older than Thrall, and Jaina and Arthas.

>>46936915
>>withdraw gracefully

>>46936706
Well theres only that brown cicle area that looks like a valley to me, and nothing recent hs been marked on the map. So i haven't a clue were the Ork "interment camp" is.

>>46936915
>>withdraw gracefully
Let's try and take the small lose here for the greater good. We will need to consolidate power. And we can't do that if our higher up thinks we can't be handled.

>>46937010
Huh. I change my vote to withdraw gracefully then.

>>46937032
Alterac Valley (the one the Frostwolf orcs are in) isn't on the map, as it's an instanced zone separate from the rest of the game world. In reality, Alterac would be a much bigger place (probably the size of Switzerland or so), but in-game, it's tiny (you can walk across it in 5 minutes), and that's what the map reflects.

>>46936915
No. Now we are even.

You step back, bowing gracefully to the king, after kissing his hand. No, you think to yourself, now we are even.

As you return to where you are standing, you observe Uther staring directly at you.

"Lord Uther, do you have a question for me?" You ask.

"Indeed I do, young man. Why did you order your militia to march west, and into Alterac Valley? Surely you can see that the militia would eventually be stopped by the king or the Alliance forces in the region."

"It is a long story lord uther, and you sit, for it may take far longer than you anticipated."

Before a seated audience, you explain the assassination attempt on you, and the threats you received from a shadowy group called the syndicate. Wanting stealth over speed, you called on the mages of Dalaran to help you. You allay the king's fears by telling them that the Syndicate was plotting to take over Alterac with the aid of demons.

Archmage modera takes on from there, and midway through her explanation, Kael'Thas appears in the Pavilion. While most of the assembled people bow to him, you see Garithos walk out in a huff. The two of them explain that they requested your aid because they feared for the safety of Isiden, and their investigations led them to Alterac Valley.

You interrupt them there, telling them that you planned to have the militia secure the valley on the other side, thus trapping the cultists there. They were working alongside orcish warlocks of a coven that called itself the Argus Wake.

Archmage modera continues on from there, and plays her part perfectly. With a lot of magical explanations that explain nothing, she explains how the older orcs surrendered after they were defeated, and now fall under the Alliance Internment act.


>>46937032
its the uplands. The fertile area that has the trees and the breadbasket of Alterac. Internment camp would be the stretch of alterac valley BG.

To your surprise, prince Isiden claps approvingly at that.

"Lord Uther, much like our sister kingdoms, we will also shoulder the burden of these orc internment camps. It would be my sovereign duty to intern these orcs inside Alterac Valley, if the alliance has no objections of course."

There are none. From what you gather from the mail coaches, the riots are frequently increasing, and there are rumors that several shadowy cults are forming in Lordaeron as well. Perhaps that explains why they took the story of the Argus wake and the syndicate so easily.

These are troubling thoughts to be sure. King Isiden Perenolde insists that the orcs surrender to him, and he tell them about their sentence.

Then the meeting is broken up and the King orders refreshments to be brought in. You notice that Garithos has returned to the tent and is talking to general Abbendis during the dinner, straying as far away from you and the mages as he can. As far as you know, grand marshal garithos died right before the assault on quel'thalas as his barony was ruined. It was the reason why you were deployed there. That would explain his hatred of the elves. You file that idea away in your mind.

The talk turns to lighter things, and for the first time you notice that Rathaella is sitting next to you, with Benedict on your other side.

>talk to Benedict
>talk to Rathaella

>>46937209
Wonder how impressed these guys are going to be.

Also can we make sure the camp is staffed by our men for the orcs?

>>46937303
>>talk to Rathaella

>>46937303
>talk to Rathaella

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>>46937303
>talk to Rathaella

>>46937303
>>talk to Rathaella
What's the worse that could happen?

>>46937303
>>talk to Rathaella

>>46937303
>> talk to Rathaella
We should probably apologize.

>>46937303
>talk to Benedict
she just wants sempai to notice her[spoiler/]

>>46937209
>its the uplands. The fertile area that has the trees and the breadbasket of Alterac. Internment camp would be the stretch of alterac valley BG.

Yeah..... not familir with WC lore. I suppose referencing this map>>46929686
is pointless then.

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93 KB PNG

>>46937303
>talk to Rathaella
Time to apologize for the lewdness.

>>46937386
>pic
KEK

You turn to speak to Rathaella, and cough, to bring her attention to you. She turns around and looks at you with a half smile on her lips that quickly turns into a frown. You don't know what to say to her. Instead you talk about the food.

"My lady, have you tried the leek and pig pie? it is simply delicious."

"I know a pig when I see one, lord Falconcrest. I see one before me right now." You cannot tell if she is referring to the glazed hog, or talking about you. You hope it is the former.

"My lady, I was drunk, and I can only apologize for my drunken behavior. It does little to bring out my best."

"Oh, and what is your best, lord Falconcrest? Drawing more detailed drawings of your intended conquests?"
You notice that she still has the piece of parchment and it is lodged squarely in her bosom.
"My lady, let me make it up to you. I be at your call if you decide to forgive me. I have erred in making a drunken jape, and for that I apologize from the depths of my heart."
You can see her eyes twinkle at that and again you are mesmerized by their greenish blue sparkle. "Anything I say?" She says in a tone that sounds more suited to a giggling village belle rather than a mage in the kirin tor.

>repeat what you said, you will fulfill anything she asks of you
>come up with something else to make it up: Write in

>>46937630
Within reason. I think. Maybe? Be gentle it's my first time.

>>46937630
>>repeat what you said, you will fulfill anything she asks of you

>>46937650
That makes it sound like you're insincere or have so little faith/trust in her that you believe she'd do something overtly harmful to you.

>>46937630
>>repeat what you said, you will fulfill anything she asks of you
>>46937650
with this included. Lighten up the mood.

>>46937630
>repeat what you said, you will fulfill anything she asks of you

Anything, except [our secret fetish]

"Light spare me my lady, anything you want within reason. I cannot eat an entire horse, or paint your toenails. My heart and stomach are not cut out for such tasks."

Her ears twitch a little as she hears that and she leans in closer to you. "What a disappointment Lord Falconcrest. I was hoping that when you came into your father's halls, you would reward me by eating a horse while you painted my toenails."

You laugh uncomfortably at that last part. You had never seen her out of her riding clothes or mage's robes. And what little you saw made you want to see more. The way the sinuous curves of her body moved titillated your imagination. The mere thought of her perfect legs in your palm twitching as you painted toenails was too distracting for you.

"My lord, were you imagining my impossible request?" She asks in a playful singsong voice. You thank the light that no one around you speaks thalassian.

"Very well then, I ask you to tell me everything about Windrunner spire."Her voice is now serious, and she is looking at you with determination in those beautiful eyes.

"My lady, it is not a fit subject for dinner. It would turn the stomachs of hardened men of war to hear what I have seen with my eyes."

"These are my conditions, Anlec. Tell me about my home, and I return your embarrassment to you, and grant you my forgiveness."

>tell her everything
>tell her a sanitized story. Roll 3d6+1

>>46937820
>>tell her everything
Man of our word.

Rolled 2, 4, 2 + 1 = 9 (3d6 + 1)

>>46937820
>>tell her a sanitized story. Roll 3d6+1

>>46937820
>>tell her everything
May as well do as she asks. She wants the good and bad.

Rolled 4, 6, 4 + 1 = 15 (3d6 + 1)

>>46937820

>>46937878
forgot to add
>tell her everything

Fuck why did I roll then aaaah

>>46937893
You told her everything very well.

Rolled 2, 5, 1 + 1 = 9 (3d6 + 1)

>>46937820
>tell her everything
be brutally honest.

Then after telling the story excuse ourselves to our tend and lay in bed.

That request sobers your thought, and you quit dreaming about her perfect legs. You request her to finish her meal and the two of you eat in silence for the most part. As the dessert comes on, you begin to tell your story.

"The brotherhood of the horse was fighting on several fronts. Lord Lothar had decided help raise the remainder of our knights as paladins. We had heard reports that our brothers, fallen in the first war were being raised as unholy sorcerers of great power, and we had to counter them with our faith in the light. Before we were deployed there, we heard reports that an orcish force was attacking the lands around Darrowshire.

We harried them there, and they turned their attention to the barony surrounding Stratholme. We were engaged with the main orc force pushing on to Tyr's hand and were unable to help Lord Garithos the Elder who perished and most of his barony was destroyed. With the few elven scouts and rangers in our force to guide us, we marched towards Silvermoon, intending to trap the the orcs under the eaves of the forest and massacre them.

We were not aware that the orcs had allied with the trolls at that point, and they came out of Zul'Aman with a great host, much larger than king Anasterian had anticipated."

You have been through several drinks by this point, and you know you will be drunk as a dwarf on brewfest by the end of the story.

"We fell back beyond the first elf gate, and the orcs ravaged through the windrunner lands. We kept falling back, trying to find a place where the orcs and trolls were split up so we could destroy them in detail. I advised them that we were too few, and until the king's host arrived we could only take on smaller groups."

"And so we did, under the burning forests we fought the outlying orcish groups, weakening their flanks and slowly trapping them into the forest while the raped and plundered throughout the lands. We came upon them in force and surrounded them even as they had finished butchering the last inhabitants of windrunner spire. They sacrificed the women first. Most of them naked and cruelly used by the orcs. I suppose death must have been a relief for them.

I remember that the children were the last to be sacrificed. Their screams for their mothers still echo in my mind. I remember one of them, a noble born child whose hair was as golden as the sun have his heart ripped out even as he screamed for his sisters to protect him. I also remember a woman, with hair a pale blonde and eyes the color of the sea look at me. She couldn't have seen me, there was no logical way she could see me through the smoke and the forest cover, but all the same she did. She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I did nothing while she died.

I suppose you know the rest. The loss of the forests goaded the high elves to war, and we won a great victory in quel'thalas, freeing Eastern Lordaeron from falling to the horde. A historian's footnote in the years to come. No word or lament can describe what I saw there, and what I lost there. I buried the last of the brotherhood there, for the rest had taken vows of the Silver hand. The rest of us promised that we would hunt the orcs and repay what they did to us. Even that was taken away from me when I was not allowed to beyond the dark portal. And here I sit, telling my tale of sorrow, and a lost home to a person who never saw it pass away from the world."

You stop, your head swimming in alcohol. Dimly, you are aware that every one at the table is looking at you. You had done it. You had spoken the entire thing in bloody common.

Lord Uther stands up and speaks

"Thank you, lord falconcrest. Your description of the horrors we all suffered during the war remind us of all we have lost, both friends and family. I never heard anyone tell of the fall of the windrunner lands in a matter so stirring."

You chafe at the lightbringer, so high and mighty. He personally vetoed your inclusion into the alliance expedition, when all you wanted to do was take the fight to the orcs. Not trustworthy. Not after Aiden had let the orcs steal from Dalaran.

>accept the compliment, delivering a backhanded insult to him: Write in
>say nothing, ask for another drink.

>>46938148
>accept the compliment and insult him

give me some ideas m8
also please feel free to criticize my prose or storytelling.

>>46938148
>>say nothing, ask for another drink.
Just don't have the emotional energy to get into a fight, verbal or physical.

>>46938148
>>say nothing, ask for another drink.
leave on the high ground being praised. We can

>>46938198
use this to further cement our power at least in the eyes of the alliance. Praise from the first paladin is a high compliment indeed. Especially if we are going to try and maintain control. We need all the allies we can get. And friends in high places.

>>46938148
>NO MORE DRINKING!

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>>46938198
Seconding this. Maybe one day we'll become Bros with him. Someday.

>>46938167
well I'll head to bed 5:30ish am here.

Even if this is bullshit on his part. Many will see us in a different light. If we can manage to quell the syndicate early. Also keep increasing our power we could be something great.

>>46938148
Say nothing, drink more. We should take the high road.

You would argue, but what was the point. Words couldn't bring back your comrades. They were free of this vicious cycle of politics and backstabbing. You were well aware that if not for Isiden you would probably be short a head now. You ask for another drink, and lord Uther toasts the fallen heroes of the war. You join in.

Lucky bastards, they didn't have to deal with backstabbers like you had to. You are drained, and lack the emotion to get into a fight. What good would it do for the dead, or even for you.

You suddenly feel extremely weary. "Benedict, help me back to my horse. I am tired. A battle and two nights of drinking are as much as I can bear. I have no desire to end this day with my dinner on the tables."

Benedict takes you arm and places over his shoulder. You walk with him, arm in arm. He has shed blood with you, and you feel much more comradeship with him than anyone else at the table. He is a good lad, and ruggedly handsome in a sort of way that catches the eye of giggling village girls. He has a fine life ahead of him.

Before you leave, you turn around and bow to the the assembled dinner guests. Grabbing another drink from a passing servant, you raise an impromptu toast.
"Lord and Ladies, Princes and Kings, To the fallen!"

"To the fallen!"

You bow out, the soldiers outside stumbling over each other to help you on your horse. At least you have turned a few heads.

Turning back at the encampment, you see another rider rushing towards you, silvery blond hair looking white in the moonlight.

"Anlec, wait for me!"

You stop your horse and let Rathaella catch up to you.

>say something to her: Write in.
>nod at her and continue on to the camp.

>>46938314
>>nod at her and continue on to the camp.

>>46938265
sweet dreams

>>46938314
>nod at her and continue on to the camp.
At a slow pace she can easily catch up to.

You don't feel like putting coherent words together at this juncture. All you want to do is fall asleep on your pallet. Nothing matters anymore. They haven't stopped you from enjoying the beauty laid out before you. The light coating of snow makes the valley look incredibly beautiful, and the moonlight shining on the surface of the frozen lake makes it shine as though forged from dwarf steel. Scenes like these are too perfect for speech. The sound of silence, and the beating of horse hooves is all the noise the world needs anymore.

All your worries vanish away from you, and all you want to do is ride. Ride your horse till the ends of the world, beyond this valley, beyond Alterac, all the west and over the forbidding sea. It is a tempting thought. Maybe one day you will be able to freeze the waters solid so your horse can ride over them.

Even as you are tempted to do that, Benedict grabs your horse's reins and guides you back towards the camp. Good man, benedict is a good man. You look behind you, and looking as otherworldly as a specter, Rathaella is riding behind you. You notice that she is riding a white mare, and it's mane matches beautifully with the hair around her head, both flowing like silver in the moonlit night. You notice once again how breathtakingly beautiful she is.

You stop your horse and she comes up close to you. You can see her eyes shine, and see the tears upon her cheeks. They amplify the effect she has on you. A living, weeping statue that is perfect in every way.

>tell her how beautiful she looks
>ask her why she is crying.

>>46938477
>>ask her why she is crying.
5am, way past time for me to clock out.

>>46938477
>ask her why she is crying.

>>46938477
It's kinda obvious why she is crying. I'm not sure what we could say though.

Maybe something along the lines of "I'm sorry." or "Let's pray and work that nothing like that has to happen again."

>>46938477
Can we do both?

You tell Benedict to go away. You can manage your way back to the tent. He looks doubt you but all the same, walks away.

You turn your horse around and beckon Arcanist Rathaella over. She comes over and stops next to you. Before you speak, you notice that she cries silently. get down from your horse, and she gets down from hers. Perhaps it is the abundant drinking you have done, but you walk over to her.

"My lady, why do you cry?"

She looks at you, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"When I was a young girl, I always wanted to be a magister. My family was stewards to the windrunners and it was my duty to serve them. My sister would go to Silvermoon and become the magister. I cried the day they told me that it was my fate to stay here, and no body listened.
My sister cared for me, and she marked the way to Dalaran on her map, telling me they accepted people with magical talent, no matter their former homes. She stayed behind, while I left. I left my family name at the gates of Dalaran, but always remembered my sister."

"Your sister, what did she look like?"

"The same as me, only her eyes were blue like the sea."

Rathaella opens her locket and shows it to you. Inside you see the pictures of two elven maidens, one who is standing before you, weeping silently, and the other who looked at you once, pleading silently as her turn to be butchered came.

"I am sorry, I couldn't save your sister, Rathaella, I only hope, you can forgive me."

"It could have been me, it should have been me!" She breaks down in the snow, and you hold her tightly. You begin to cry as well, remembering the people you have lost, and the people you couldn't save.

Arm in arm, the two of you cry silently by the lake, with only the moon and the trees as your witness.

>help her back to the camp
>sit beside her, helping her grieve.

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>>46938477
>>ask her why she is crying.

>>46938602
sorry famalam, I typed all that shit

Also, if you guys are enjoying this quest, don't forget to upvote it on the archives

>>46938603
>>sit beside her, helping her grieve.
So when do we marry this girl and have babies?

>>46938603
Goddammit I'm slow.
Also
>sit beside her, helping her grieve.

>>46938633
L-lewd

>>46938603
>help her back to the camp
to her tent than leave. no taking advantage of the emotionally vulnerable.

>>46938603
>sit beside her, helping her grieve.

>>46938633
>taking advantage of a griefstricken elf maiden
for shame, m8!
at any rate, what's the deal with windrunner family and their human fetish?

>>46938661
We have drunk enough that our peepee isn't going to get up either way

>>46938664
They can't help it, they want to touch round ears.

You know of nothing better to do, than to sit beside her and offer you her shoulder as she cries fitfully into your shoulder. Sometimes the best thing you can do to a grieving person is offer them a place to rest their head.

You were always taught that boys didn't cry, and that it was a womans thing to do. Men acted, men avenged. How comforting those words seemed at the time. And how utterly false they were. Avenging them didn't bring them back. The dead were gone, and they would never be seen again.

It hit you when you heard that Roboute was dead. Even with the grieving parents it had sounded illogical. He couldn't be dead. He would just be around the corner, waiting for you and talking about his father's farm. It hit you with the force of a warhammer on the ship. As you watched the city of stormwind burn, you realized that there was no coming back. It was gone. The stables of the brotherhood, the keep, the cathedral, the market. All gone up in smoke. Just like Roboute did at his father's farm.
You cried then, still half a boy.

The war had taken away your tears, but you still felt grief at the loss of kin. Your mother was dead, and you had beheaded the brother who sang you those songs while you pretended to be a knight slaying monsters. They were all dead and gone, and left a hole in your heart.
They had left you to soldier on, while the light around you grew dimmer.

You couldn't intrude on her grief. Not now. Let her weep.

>stay by her, and cover both of you with your cloak. the two of you need to be warm.
>leave her in the snow, with your cloak. she needs the warmth

>>46938733
Assuming we're too drunk/tired to carry her someplace warm
>stay by her, and cover both of you with your cloak. the two of you need to be warm.

>>46938664
>at any rate, what's the deal with windrunner family and their human fetish?
she isn't a windrunner though. She just lived there, and her family were stewards to the windrunners.

>>46938733
>>46938733
>stay by her, and cover both of you with your cloak. the two of you need to be warm.

>>46938733
>>stay by her, and cover both of you with your cloak. the two of you need to be warm.


Seriously if we don't marry this woman later I'll be mildly surprised.

>>46938797
But we spoiled our close friends sister didn't we?

>>46938733

>stay by her, and cover both of you with your cloak. the two of you need to be warm.
Think of the days with Roboute on the lake, kayaking and all that

You sit her down and she obeys, as obedient as a squire. You know that nothing you say or do can conceivably help her. She needs time. You would lead her back to her tent, but you are too tired. The activities of the last two days have taken a toll on you, and all you want to do is fall down and go to sleep.

The best thing you can do is cover the two of you with your cloak. That will keep the both of warm enough. As it wraps around the two of you, she grabs your shoulder with a strength borne of desperation and huddles close to you, her head resting between your shoulderblades and chest.

Her warmth doesn't last long. Before long, you are shivering. The cloak is not big enough for the two of you. You need a drink, or a fire. The camp has plenty of both.

>get back to the camp, leaving her warm in your cloak.
>take her back to camp. Both of you will be warmer inside.

>>46938797
>warcraft quest
she will becorrupted

>>46938842
>take her back to camp. Both of you will be warmer inside.

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>>46938842
>take her back to camp. Both of you will be warmer inside.

>>46938848
On a scale from Jaina Green-goo to Arthas how corrupt

>>46938869
they both become DKs and rattle each other's bones

Slowly and gently you marshal your strength and raise her up in your arms. Years of wearing full plate mail armor have made you strong, and to your surprise, you can carry Rathaella with ease.

The last time you had done that, the person was Roboute, and you were afraid that you were late for Morgan Ladimore's lessons. You just had to put him back in his cell and you could run along and not be late.

The walk back to the encampment suddenly feels simultaneously long, and short. Long because you are in no condition to carry her, all the drink is making you unsteady. Short because you suddenly like the way her head is nestled against your chest and how her shoulder and thighs feel on your hand. The sentries let you in and you notice it is the two men who were there at the orc encampment. They are keeping a good watch.

You nod at them and they nod back, and then they carry on with their duty. Two good men, making the best out of a mad world. You notice that your tent's and the mages are quite far away, and you cannot carry her there. The sleeping pallet will fit one person.

>attempt to carry her to her tent
>let her sleep in yours.

>>46938942
>attempt to carry her to her tent

Let's not be too hasty for now.

>>46938942
>>let her sleep in yours.

>>46938848
pls no

>>46938978
We ain't gonna fuck her if we can't get out peepee up.

Rolled 4, 4, 3 = 11 (3d6)

>>46938942
>attempt to carry her

>inb4 we trip over and spend the rest of the night passed out entangled in each other

>>46938942
>attempt to carry her to her tent
Hey you two, you know where the mage quaters are?

No, it wouldn't be right to have her in your tent. She just found out that she has lost her sister, and forcing yourself upon her would be something that is vile. You husband the last of your strength and carry her beyond your tent. Luckily, the tent she lives in is far away enough that you are able to hold on to her sleeping form long enough. The sentries there salute you as you stumble inside and slowly set her down.

The tent is lighted on the inside by a dim purple light that grows somewhat brighter as you enter. You can swear the tent is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. It might be the mind playing tricks on you. You tuck her gently in the blanket, and watch the contours of her face. Illuminated by the purple light, her tears seem darker than before, and for a moment you think she is crying tears of blood. This is an ill omen, and you are afraid that she might be hurt during the night.

>stay in the tent with her. and watch her back.
>leave her to her fate, go back to your bed

>>46939064
>>stay in the tent with her. and watch her back
Man we are smashed

>>46939064
>>stay in the tent with her. and watch her back.
Just pass out already. It's been a while since last we did that.

You are extremely tired by now. Your body is aching from the constant abuse you have put yourself. A day of soldiering, and then fighting a demon, then two days of drinking have taken a toll on your body. You will need time to recover from this.

Even as you prepare to leave the tent you lurch forward to take a quick look at Rathaella. She is looking asleep for the most part but the damnable light makes her look like she is bleeding tears. Perhaps it will be easier for you sleep here. That way you cant watch over her.

Yes that seems like a good idea, finding a place to lay down your cloak, you lay down and after taking a quick gaze at her sleeping form - to see that she is alright- you fall asleep.

Alright lads, that will do for now.

If you enjoyed this, don't forget to vote for this in the archives.

>>46939168
Sleep well and dream pleasant dreams of elf maidens OP.

>>46939212
You forgot to apply "collective game" tag to threads 2 through 4 though.

>>46939256
sorry
I keep forgetting.