The Torrents of War: Part 1 - Deadly Deliberations

The royal map room was near crowded with everyone of the War council gathered within. Malakk rested upon his mobile throne and watched the last of his followers, Alexi, take his seat.

As quiet fell upon the meeting hall again, Malakk motioned for all eyes to turn to him and when they had he rose to his feet and proclaimed. "“Friends, comrades, counselors, I thank you all for coming."

"We come here today, to discuss the state of the empire and make plans to further secure these new Dominions." At the quiet applause and hums of acknowledgment, Malakk returned to his throne, adopting a more comfortable, relaxed air. 

"Now that matters here have begun to stabilize, the Goblin Cartels have expressed their desire to once again do business." There were a few rumbles and quiet cheers at that. 

"As the Cartels engage in the wicked and weak willed practice of slavery, I was of a mind to turn them away; however," he stressed. "Under the advice of my councilors and war time advisors I opened the matter to a silent vote before yesterdays ceremony and with a slim majority, it has been decided that we shall allow for trade." 

Hala'Zhi motioned to speak and Malakk waved them on, "I would be cautious, even their immorality aside, the goblins are unreliable partners."

Malakk nodded, "In this I agree, however, the goblins making themselves our enemy may prove disastrous at this time. But, this trade shall be accompanied with one imperial mandate and a guiding principle from the throne itself." 

Motioning to his advisors, Malakk continued, "First and foremost the purchase and selling of sapient souls is illegal under any circumstances and will be punished harshly."

"... Secondly," He added, easing his tone, "It is encouraged that any engaging in government business, make purchases from the Mangled Manacle Merchants, a cross Cartel accord of sellers, traders and experts who lobby against the slave trade. Those who do shall be granted some remissions for their purchases from the throne."

Seeing the more traditionalist members of his council easing back at that, Malakk smiled and pressed on. "With that done, I wish to report some even finer news, or more, to open the flaw to one who bears it.”

Chief Rageclaw rose from their whicker, cushion seat and tapped their claws together, almost rhythmically.

“Our efforts to align with many natives met with much success!” The Wolvar’s second held up several signed scrolls and glittering tokens, to which they motioned to proudly. “Every Kobold Commune spoken with embraced the protection offered by Zul'Drak, swearing themselves to Frost King Malakk and promising labor tax in the form of minerals and stonework’. Among the many small communes are the Dryax and the mighty Whitewhisker!”

Malakk motioned to Beve, “As the Monarch of the mountains, I must once again thank you for generously donating this land to the empires new friends." 

Beve chuckled, “Hardly a labor my liege, unknown neighbors they may have been, I look forward to what we can accomplish side by side." 

All eyes turned back to the Chief, whose tail swished happily, “Kobolds languished and their tongue familiar from the Snobolds we trade with. much shall come from them in the future!”

Alexi did not look enthused but joined the applause that washed over the room.

Running a paw through their sleek fur, Rageclaw rumbled, “Local Gnolls prove difficult; but some have listened, or learned to listen. Among those we spoke with, the Redpine_tribe are veeeery open and eager.”

Alexi scoffed, “Those raiders have done much harm to my lands.”

“Humans hunted them for sport,” Rageclaw countered.

Malakk motioned for quiet, “We can debate the specifics in the future, for now they aided us in Hearthglenn with distinction and it is one less battle to fight.”

Arctikus leaned back in her chair and motioned to the map laid out before them as new Drakkari tokens slid into place, “And potentially new fighters to join the field.”

“Oh, they like fighting very much, but more I think are curious about magic and some are dabbed paws at it too!” Rageclaw motioned to Beve and added, “We must thank you for telling us to seek out Ro'Bark, with them we are able to speak and strike a deal, the Mudsnout tribe. They seek farmland but promise loyalty.”

Beve saw Alexis’s scandalized stare and shrugged, “We Syndicate had to make strange bedfellows, I would have thought you would be familiar, lord Alexi.”

The man huffed and returned his attention to the meeting, while Arctikus and Beve exchanged smirks.

Rageclaw’s tone grew less enthused, their tail swaying slowed, “The Mountain Valley coalition add much, but orcs hovering in the mountains still cause tension.”

“The latter should be dealt with soon,” Malakk said airily.

Gal’Darah exchanged a galnce with Arctikus and leaned forward, chin on his hands. “The valley dwellers, the Winter Axe in partulid, stayed so quiet for much of this war. I would suggest caution when dealing with them.”

Zol’Maz huffed, “They did not wish to risk their people in a war not their own and yet still came to the aid of our noble allies the Barovs.”

Arctikus’s arms crossed, “We never got much help from them, but they aren’t stupid either, they can be trusted some ways I am thinking, but should be kept at a distance still. For a time.”

“I think them cautious and cold, not calculating and cruel,” Rageclaw yipped, shuffling through scrolls, and waving to the map. 

“Whatever their motives," Malakk intoned gently, "they have consented to join our empire with more time and deliberation. I am of a mind to let them muse as long as they need. But as to our other efforts, I take it Ogres are still proving a trial?”

Rageclaw bobbed their head, “We have little luck with the Ogres in large number, a few lone wanderers welcome the new dominion for food but without aid of Hala'zhi would have had no luck at all…” They shrugged, “Have cause for hope though from rumors carried to us by Beve Perenolde.”

Maakk motioned for the Wolvar to take a seat and said, “This would be a fine time for your report, Beve.”

Rising from her chair with a flourish, Beve tapped her stave and proudly announced, “With daring, cunning and quick wit, I was able to lure Blackmoore into a battle with Trollbane and Ironforge’s forces. As the battle drew on my Syndicate Skirmishers and raiders hit the invaders from behind and forced them into retreat.”

As most of the room clapped, she waved her stave and tokens began sliding across the map.

“Since then, we have secured Thoradin’s Wall and I have had scouts and agents reporting from across Arathi.” She chuckled, “They have become so talkative now that they see which way the wind is blowing.” She motioned to a South East quadrant of the map and murmured, “Some reports speak of people already trying to flee to Ironforge and being attacked by Forest Troll and Ogre raiders working in tandem.”

Gal’Darah tapped his feet, “Could the Amani Warlord be seeking to expand his lands so far?”

“I should hope not,” Alexi muttered, “He lacks the Frost King’s refinement and would see the lands burn rather than ruled.”

Hala'Zhi snorted, "It was not our people who burnt the mountains to cinders. 

Beve coughed into her hand and attention drew back to her. “For now it seems these are attacks of opportunity, there is little way to know if they are ordered by a distant emperor or part of a grand strategy, but the fact such an accord can be struck shows there is potential and furthermore…” she nearly sang. “It reinforces a broader point that has been evident for some time, Stromgarde, is falling.”

Alexi chuckled, “That is hardly news.”

It was Liane who spoke next, her tone gentle, “Such a loss of our history would diminish us all, Lord Barov.”

Before the man could retort, Malakk motioned to Beve, “If Stromgarde is an ailing state we may be able to ignore them for now.”

“I would caution against that my liege,” Beve said with a grin. “For I have agents inside the capital promising chaos when Thoras returns, leaving them vulnerable.”

“That would let us cut off Ironforge, I shall think on, thank you Beve,” he said, tapping a tusk thoughtfully as Beve took her seat.

He motioned to Alexi who rose to his feet, “As you well now my family has suffered much for this war,” He studiously ignored Callia’s brief flash of hatred and anger. “And yet we have seen our loyalty rewarded by the brave rescues of our daughter by Frost King Malakk. For which I wish to express my deepest gratitude, and sympathy for the loss of so many of your forces.”

“Your sentiment is heard,” Malakk said gently, “And greatly appreciated, Noble Alexi. Jandice and your family shall be well compensated for the pain and your loyalty in this war.”

Alexi preened, “We thank you, Frost King Malakk, and are also proud to report that with the fall of Hearthglenn and the surrender of Andorhol, all local resistance has ended. The church of Northridge signed their declaration of surrender just days ago. For the time we leave them to manage the bureaucracy, but your own Gundraki Elites oversee the land itself." He clapped his hands, "With that falls the last bastion of resistance West of the East river.”

Malakk clapped, “That is heartening to hear, you clearly have your new lands and staff well in order,” he congratulated. “I will need to speak with the Arch-Bishop about re-organizing the churches across the lands as well so that they can continue to serve their roles without becoming bastions of rebellion or robbing my new subjects of much needed assistance.”

“Wise words, Frost King Malakk,” Lianne said, “The Church oversees many settlements uncared for by the nobility.” Alexi scoffed at that, muttering ‘favoritism’ under his breath as Lianne continued and Callia passed him a sample of records tied to the East. “They provide education, housing and even food, sustaining their own and supporting outside communities. They cannot go ignored without much loss to the new Dominion.”

Malakk looked over the notes, glancing at De'Jana who nodded and he sent the trio a flicker of a smile before turning to Alexi. "Thank you, Noble Alexi, I hope you or Lady Illucia shall be willing to join myself and the Arch-Bishop for a luncheon to discuss the management of your lands?”

“Of course, Frost King Malakk,” He answered gamely.

“With Eastweld in mind," Malakk pressed on, "Zol’Maz, congratulations are in order for holding out and driving back the main army and their secret weapon." 

Zol’Maz bowed at the appaluse. “It was no easy feat, but our resolve was strong and with due credit to our allies, as well as the Prophets, Loa and gods we won the day. However,” The bulky troll furrowed his brow. “We did not capture the weapon, and now they line the river-side with cannons and ballista to bar our path.”

Quetz’Lith rose and saluted, “My scouts report that they are reinforcing townships as well, but that the main body of their forces duel with the Amani for control of the coast.”

Arctikus scoffed, “We can break through such lines.”

“I concur,” Alexi chimed in.

Beve was watching Malakk, carefully.

He saw Gal’Darah seemed ready to speak and stilled the Grand Prophet with a glance before intoning, “I believe, that we should leave Eastweld and the Amani to their business.”

Zol’Maz’s relief was nearly palpable, while Arctikus, Hala'Zhi and Alexi scowled.

Looking to him, Alexi asked, “Would you say that is wise, Frost King Malakk?”

Hala'Zhi of all people concured, adding, "We have offered much assistance to the Drakkari in this war, have we not?" 

"You have, and my gratitude is large, yet your emperor has not asked for my assistance as of yet and I'd not wish to come into contentions with his over territory he claims in his people's name. As to wisdom," His head lolled to the side gently, " I see no reason not to let our shared foe be exhausted while we focus on other, matters.”

“That does still leave an enemy nearby?” Quetz’Lith said.

“If we take Eastweld we have enemies nearby again, just elves.” Rageclaw cut in, waving at the map. “We take them then it is Elves and Dwarves. Take more land and it is more Dwarves and humans again. Even if we hold all the land the seas have Naga most of who are unkind. With this at least enemy busy,” they chuckled.

“Agreed,” Gal’Darah added, “While one could, with just cause, argue the remains of Eastweld will be weaker attacked from two sides at once. We would push closer to Quel’Thalas which has shown no weakness and thus may incur a new battlefront.”

“We do have their prince,” Alexi cut in.

“A fair point, but the systems of Quel'Thalas seem to place more value on their council than their monarch, and their land ahead of that. Thus, I see no reason to think the Elves will restrain themselves if we encroach upon their border.” He held his hand aloft, “For now, I have no execution to avenge with those of Eastweld and the Elves remain a… Complicated and dangerous matter, one that must be treated cautiously. So for now, we shall merely work to surround Eastweld and ensure they pose no threat to us.”

A flurry of murmured or grudging agreement rolled across the chamber.

Arctikus raised her hand, and with a nod of permission from him, spoke her mind, “This does beg the question of our next stage? Shall we secure Hillsbrad's coast and use it as a launching point against Kul’Tiras? Or move on Arathi that we might finally strike at Ironforge?”

Malakk’s chest tightened as he leaned into his throne, “For now, I believe our focus should not be on expansion.”

That caught everyone’s attention, and Malakk braced at the sound of Alexi and Arctikus’s voice raising.

“But My king we are winning!?” Alexi crowed.

“We are, but if we wish to keep winning, we cannot over-extend our lines,” Malakk counselled.

Arctikus rose from her seat fangs grinding, “We have not even struck at Ironforge, every moment they have to gather strength poses a danger to us.”

“And rushing to meet them in such a secured location after so many battles is folly,” Gal’Darah offered.

Looking like she'd been struck with a dagger in the back, Arctikus thumped a fist against her chest, “My people know the lay of the land, we can guide an army." 

Alexi coughed into his hand, “While not as passionate as the lady Arctikus I must concur. We have the momentum, we should use it, not let a force like the Arathi or Bronzebeard get dug in. They will prove more a hindrance to drag out from their forts than if we fought them openly now.”

Rageclaw kicked their paws, “People are tense in the castle, can only guess at the city. Dalaran has had many thefts of artifacts, spikes of insurrection, and needs to be remade, the New Dominions managed. Much, much to so, can afford going so far so fast?”

“Can we afford not to when it gives them time to rally?” Quetz’Lith asked, sounding more intrigued than truly on anyone’s side.

“What care do we have for Dalaran?” Alexi spat, “The city should be grateful it still stands after what they did to my girl.”

“Ironforge even more-so,” Arctikues hissed, “They butchered my ancestors, slaughtered my son, drove us from our home and you wish to stop the advance?” She asked, eyes locking onto his, her hands shaking.

“Your pain is known and heard, Great Mother, but we will not honor the fallen by racing to join them,” Gal’Darah said.

Malakk tapped his throne, “Our soldiers are weary, winter is ending, Dalaran was a disastrous victory and morale is low. More war fighting will only exacerbate the matter.”

“But we are winning,” Alexi insisted.

“And we will lose everything if we overextend ourselves?” Beve cut in, Zol’Maz nodding alongside her.

“Indeed,” The Warlord said, “A stable empire is better than a large one on the brink of collapse.”

“So that is it then? We leave Ironforge be? We leave my kins bodies to rot beneath the snow?”

“We will do no such thing,” Malakk growled, “The dead will have their justice, but not yet. Ironforge will not stay quiet I am sure, and they will never sew for peace or acknowledge their guilt. War shall come.”

He steeled his shoulders, "We will not be advancing on the Bronzebeard this year. We stop this at Arathi and gather our strength over the next winter. I will broke no arguments on this."

Alexi grumbled but returned to his seat, Arctikus squeezed her eyes shut but swallowed back her anger and sat.

“With that decided,” Malakk said, “I believe a short recess may be in order….” He stilled at the sound of knocking on the chamber doors.

“Enter!”

The doors swung open and a messenger in leopard skin leathers strode in, dropping to her knee before him. “Frost King Malakk, honored councilors, I bring word from Navarch Hooktusk.”

She held aloft the scroll lined with golden waves and a sigil he did not recognize, but Lianne murmured, “Ashvane?”

The messenger nodded, “A Great Family of Kul’Tiras sent to unto the fleet a delegate, one Flynn_Fairwind who the Navarch claims to be reliable.”

Malakk motioned for her to come forward and he took the letter, “Thank you, please, indulge in my hospitality and rest awhile.”

His gaze flickered across the chamber as the Holy Warrior marched out; all were watching carefully as he broke the wax seal and began to read.

Hail to thee oh conqueror king,

Lady Priscilla_Ashvane bids you greetings.

I send you this message with a heart torn apart by rage, something I know a warrior so ferocious will understand. I am enraged for the death of my husband, Lord James_Ashvane!

Struck down by the maddened blade of Proudmoore and his vile wife, they seek nothing but your people’s blood while we proposed diplomacy and I still hold to this. I have heard of the grand rewards you heap upon the loyal and the fury you lay upon your foes and find myself in awe.

If it pleases you, conqueror of kings, I would swear my house to you and rule all of Kul’Tiras in your name. I have a fleet of rabid pirates and mercenaries aplenty, as well as agents within the fleet itself who can help subdue the city and sabotage the navy. Providing your forces provide a clear path into the docks. For while our strength is great, we cannot take Kul’Tiras without you, but we can ensure it is swift and simple for all concerned.

If this pleases you, please contact me again shortly, for I do not know how long we shall be able to distract the proudmoores with politics and minor sabotage.

Signed, Lady Priscilla Ashvane

Malakk let out a low breath as he lowered the obtuse little missive and looked over the crowd.

Beve was grinning, “They do say to strike while the iron is hot.”

Arctikus groused, “Did we not finished establishing we cannot continue this war?”

“Circumstances change, Great Mother,” Gal’Darah intoned.

Alexi nodded, “Indeed, if Kul’Tiras falls the only rival naval power left would be Stormwind, the Gnomes and Goblins do not produce large enough number of vessels to be a true threat.”

“There is also the Zandalari,” Quetz’Lith noted.

“The who?” Alexi asked, squinting.

“Irrelevant busybodies whose glory days long since passed,” Malakk waved them off. “Tell me, how likely is this to be true?” He looked over his collaborators and then glanced to Lianne and Callia, the latter of whom look briefly stricken before balling her fists and steeling herself.

Lianne was first to speak, “Kul’tiras lacks a single king as other nations do, thus while the Proudmoore’s control the fleet there is a constant jockeying for position and few grappled for power more than the Ashvane.”

Alexi scoffed, “Nouveau riche merchants who bought their titles, they’ve ambition if little else.”

“One pays for titles in trade or in blood,” Rageclaw chuckled.

“Debate the matter later,” Malakk grunted.

Beve raised a hand, “It has been some time since I have met with any from Kul’Tiras, but rumors abound in the shadowed world of daggers and poison's as to the Tirasi’s criminal element. It is highly organized, and many great families have strong ties to the heads of gang and assassin orders. If promised titles and more power, I could well believe they would aid in a coup.”

“Much like here,” Lianne gently chided, which only made Beve lean into her seat more smugly.

Callia’s gentle voice drew his attention, and Malakk could sense Lianne’s worry. “While the nobles often jockeyed for position there was often a stronger undercurrent of comradery rooted in shared faith among the people.”

Lianne nodded, “My daughter has a point, the Tirasi are the only nation to have not embraced the Light in whole, it could make them rather insular.”

“The Proudmoore girl may say otherwise,” Beve purred.

“I am well read on that topic,” Malakk cut in. Resting his chin on his hand he murmured, “She made no mention of other Great Houses, and a duel… Are duels common?”

A shuffling sort of silence filled the chamber, before Alexi shrugged, “They are not unknown, especially in a land as rough as Kul’Tiras, but normally the threat of such a thing and rank kept people in line… I cannot say if it’s the truth.”

Malakk sighed, “Hooktusk is not a fool, but this would be a grave risk…”

Lianne was frowning, but De'Jana rested a hand on her shoulder and the woman spoke, “Lord Daelin has been… Troubled, ever since the Second War, and given the Ashvane’s preferences for mercantile dealings... I could see a conflict arising. Whether it would go so far as a duel to the death I cannot say, but it is not unheard of in the Tirasi Navy for it to be accepted when crewmen take matters into their own hands.”

Callia nodded, “A ship with a fool for a captain has no crew as they say.”

Malakk nodded, “I see, that does help some, thank you all…” His fingers began to tap along the stone as he rallied his thoughts and rose to his feet.

“I’ve no intention to trust this Ashvane carelessly… Be that as it may, if an enemy seeks to offer themselves to us with open arms, I see no cause not to act.” He glanced at Arctikus and added, “By securing Kul’Tiras we shall deny Ironforge a powerful ally, allowing us to better isolate them for the wars to come.”

Her response was a sharp nod but little else and he clicked his tongue in thought. "I am thinking we shall not be sending one but two missives, for meeting." 

Quetz'Lith arched her brow, "I see your scheme." 

“No scheme, just a little test, nothing more,” He chuckled. "Let us see if this woman Is honest first, before we commit to anything.” He motioned to the map and tokens began to shift and side as a smirk spread across his face as Boralus was surrounded.

‘Not taking any more chances. No more surprises.’

_______________________________________________________

“Chieftain, Chieftain Xex’Mon we must speak with you!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” he called, stepped from his tent, and resisting the urge to stretch as Burx and Nazgrel raced towards him.

Fists slamming against their chests, they knelt.

“Please, rise, what news do you have?” Their jaws were locked, eyes wild and wary, bodies rippling with tension but not anger or fear. What had they found in these mountains?

The pair rose to their feet and the Burx muttered, “We know where the odd tracks are coming from now, and why so few Orcs are turning up in our searches.”

Nazgrel nodded, his fangs grinding, and face set in a fierce scowl he just motioned to a distant stone jutting out like a needle from the snow-covered lands, a dancing, flickering flash of purple just in sight.

Xex’Mon brought up his spy glass and saw a pair of aging but fierce looking orcs, one short and broad, bedecked in black armor while the other wore no shirt and loose leather, lean but towering over his companion. They sat beneath a vibrant purple flag and a faded black and red one.

“It is our kin,” Burx mumbled, “They claim to be the True Horde.”

“They demand we join them,” Nazgrel spat.

“Or what?” Xex’mon intoned.

“Or die.”