Resurgence of the Light ch 16

Uther approached just as Sylvanas came to a halt before the formidable figure of the Light’s Chosen. The air was thick with tension as the commander's eyes bore into Sylvanas, wordlessly commanding her to relay the details of their mission. Casting a brief, almost imperceptible glance at Uther, Sylvanas began her account.

“As you instructed, we scouted the Nerubian Kingdom precisely as you indicated,” Sylvanas began, her voice carrying the weight of their perilous journey. "Regrettably, subtlety was not an option; we were compelled to launch a direct assault. Our initial optimism of remaining undetected swiftly dissolved," she continued, a note of disdain tainting her words.

"A grave miscalculation, for we found ourselves face-to-face with a formidable magic caster, a guardian of Azjol-Nerub, who extended us a chilling 'welcome,'" she sneered, her brows knitting in frustration. "This spellcaster proved to be a worthy adversary, requiring considerable effort before we could bring him down."

Sylvanas' gaze turned melancholy, her eyes reflecting the somber tale of loss. "Venturing deeper, we encountered a colossal web, its intricate threads woven by a gargantuan spider that lurked within. Tragically, one of our own became ensnared, succumbing to the ferocity of battle," she paused, her voice catching slightly with the weight of sorrow. "I ensured their body was purified by the gentle touch of Light, denying the Scourge the chance to desecrate their remains," she finished, her tone now icy with resolve.

In the midst of her account, the tension in the air was palpable, each word painting a vivid picture of their harrowing expedition into the heart of darkness.

"After overcoming minimal resistance initially, it became apparent that Anub'arak, realizing the gravity of our threat, had withdrawn his forces, intending to face us in person. We discovered him in an eerie arena, where a fierce battle ensued. Tragically, two more of our valiant rangers fell in the line of duty, their sacrifices ensuring our victory. During our hasty escape, we triggered the strategically placed explosives, intending to seal off the Nerubian kingdom. However, despite your forewarning, we underestimated the labyrinthine chambers within. As we observed the collapse, a disconcerting truth became apparent: a gaping crater would mar the land due to the absence of sufficient material to fill it.

It was at this juncture that our attention shifted to a nearby mountain peak, which began to shift ominously, its base weakened by the recent seismic disturbances. To ensure its descent into the crater, I further destabilized its foundation, prompting a spectacular collapse within the void.

Upon completing our mission, we made our arduous journey back." Sylvanas concluded her account, her words painting a vivid picture of their endeavors. Uther, stunned by the magnitude of their actions, could hardly believe his ears. In stark contrast, the Light’s Chosen remained serene, neither surprised nor perturbed by the revelation.

"Intriguingly, amidst our journey, we encountered a peculiar sight," Sylvanas continued, her voice tinged with contemplation. "A walrus-like race engaged in combat with ethereal versions of colossal humans. Additionally, we witnessed Tauren warriors locked in battle against the relentless undead forces, albeit closer to Azjol-Nerub. It appears, however, that our actions did not inadvertently endanger them," she added, her words carrying a blend of curiosity and perplexity, leaving Uther bewildered at the unexpected complexities of their mission.

"Tuskarr, or Kalu’ak as they refer to themselves, are likely to be friendly toward us. Their primary occupation revolves around fishing," Light’s Chosen explained, displaying an impressive knowledge of various races. "However, the towering humans you witnessed are Vrykul, the forebears of humanity. Specifically, those you encountered are Kvaldir, ethereal entities bound to the sea and devoted to Helya. Regrettably, neither the Vrykul nor the Kvaldir are sympathetic to our cause. The Vrykul revere the Lich King as a deity of death and have willingly chosen to follow him."

Uther and Sylvanas exchanged stunned glances, their astonishment stemming from both the historical revelations and the depth of Light's Chosen's understanding. The idea of Vrykul willingly embracing Arthas and deifying him was profoundly disturbing.

"Is there any chance we could persuade the Vrykul to reconsider their allegiance?" Uther inquired, his thoughts already turning to the strategic advantage of gaining allies while simultaneously weakening Arthas' forces.

Light’s Chosen turned to Uther, his response unwavering. "Unless we resort to conquest and subjugation, diplomacy with the Vrykul is futile. Strength is the only currency they respect. Moreover, they harbor a deep-seated aversion for humans, considering us weak and degenerate descendants. In fact, the Vrykul's king once ordered our annihilation, but some chose to defy this decree and fled to Tyr's Fall. There, they raised the first humans and imparted knowledge."

Uther's disappointment was palpable, but one detail puzzled him. "Tyr's Fall?" he inquired, seeking clarification.

"Tirisfall, as it's known today," Light's Chosen responded dismissively. "The point is, they will not become our allies. However, they must not continue as servants of the Lich King."

The callousness in Light's Chosen's tone startled Uther. He had never questioned the enigmatic figure before, but now, a sense of moral responsibility compelled him. "I understand they might be unwilling to change," Uther conceded, "but we must try."

Light’s Chosen, unmoved, asserted, "You may attempt, but remember my warning: the Vrykul remain impervious to simple persuasion."

With that, Light's Chosen turned and walked away, leaving Uther and Sylvanas with contemplative expressions. Uther, his eyes burning with resolve, finally turned to Sylvanas, a determination evident in his gaze. In response to Uther's determined expression, Sylvanas fixed him with a quizzical look, her eyebrow arching in silent inquiry.

~~~~

As evening descended, Uther found himself standing atop the newly constructed wall, his gaze fixed on the vanishing sun. In the fading light, he allowed the day's revelations to settle in his mind, contemplating the paths laid out before them.

He felt a twinge of gratitude that Sylvanas had seemed receptive to his words about attempting to forge alliances with the Vrykul, or at the very least maintain neutrality with them. Genocide was not his mission; he had come here to prevent such atrocities, not perpetuate them.

For the first time, he found himself at odds with Light's Chosen regarding their course of action. To Uther, the Vrykul were not mere obstacles to be swept away in pursuit of their goals. There had to be a way to coexist, a chance for peace even with those who stood against them. He couldn't shake the notion that there might be common ground, a possibility for understanding and cooperation.

His mind whirred with questions, especially concerning Light's Chosen. Why was there a reluctance to seek peaceful resolutions? Uther pondered, recalling Light's Chosen's past actions with the Scarlet Crusade. Even if they pursued a similar path with the Vrykul, wouldn't it be better than outright annihilation? Was there some insight he was missing, some reason why this course seemed unfeasible to Light's Chosen?

Lost in these thoughts, Uther failed to notice the approach of a soldier until he was addressed. Startled, he turned towards the soldier, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

"My apologies, Lord Uther," the soldier said respectfully. "But you are expected in the command room."

Uther nodded, acknowledging the soldier's message, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts. With purpose, he proceeded toward the command room, wondering what new developments awaited them.

~~~~

As Uther stepped into the room, he noticed an unfamiliar device placed on the table, surrounded by Light's Chosen, Sylvanas, and a figure he recognized with a jolt of surprise - Sally Whitemane, the once High Inquisitor of the Scarlet Crusade, now a Penitential Atoner. Oddly, there were no Light markings on her, unlike the others. Uther pushed this curiosity aside for the moment, his attention captured by Light's Chosen's commanding presence.

"Uther, good. Now we can proceed," Light's Chosen said, raising his hand and letting Light flow from it into the mysterious device. Just as Uther was about to inquire about their purpose, a figure materialized before them.

Tirion? It was Tirion Fordring, speaking cheerfully. "Ah, it seems you have settled then. Everything is well here; we have secured Lordaeron. We have even made some new friends from Quel’Thalas."

The mention of Quel’Thalas drew Sylvanas' attention, but before she could inquire, Light’s Chosen interjected. "Have you made contact with Ironforge and Stormwind?"

"Yes, not long ago. They seem receptive to our plea for help against Arthas, though not overly enthusiastic. I think they believe our current progress indicates that we can handle the situation ourselves," Tirion replied, his tone carrying a tinge of disappointment.

A brief silence hung over the room after Tirion spoke, interrupted only by a scoff from Sally, who chose not to elaborate further.

Uther felt a mixture of disappointment and understanding. Stormwind and Ironforge, while sympathetic, didn't fully grasp the magnitude of the Scourge threat; they had their own troubles to contend with.

"Are your men still in Stormwind?" Light's Chosen inquired. Tirion furrowed his brows momentarily before responding, "They should still be there."

"Good," Light’s Chosen continued, his voice icy. "If they won't assist willingly, we will force their hand. Have your men inform King Varian that there is a black dragon masquerading as a human in his court, working against the interests of his kingdom. If he sends more than token force, this dragon will be exposed."

Uther felt a chill settle in his bones at the ruthlessness of the plan. Then, Light's Chosen continued. "As for Ironforge, if King Magni's daughter has not yet left the city, she will do so soon. She is consorting with the Blackrock Dwarves, attempting a futile peace negotiation between them. While her efforts might succeed, our campaign's success takes precedence."

The room fell into stunned silence. The gravity of Light's Chosen's words left them all in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the cold determination that lay behind his plan.

Uther couldn't hold back any longer. "Lad, this is not the way. It will only lead to resentment and harm our efforts," he spoke with a tone of disapproval, his concern etched on his weathered face.

Light’s Chosen turned towards Uther, his gaze piercing and unwavering, yet Uther refused to back down.

"Good," Light’s Chosen said after a thoughtful pause, his voice carrying an unexpected note of satisfaction. His response left the others in the room utterly bewildered.

"I had feared you lost your spine, Uther, when you did not question my plan," Light’s Chosen explained, his words hanging heavy in the air. "I am not a good leader, Uther. That is why you are here — to lead. As for the information I provided, I leave it for you to decide how to best use it, Tirion."

With that, Light’s Chosen turned away, starting to walk out of the room. "Oh, the name of the dragon is Onyxia. As for her human guise, it is Katarina Prestor. The entire house of Prestor is comprised of black dragons; they are our enemies," he added, casting a significant glance towards Uther. "And these are foes we truly can't make allies with, no matter how hard we try."

And just like that, he left, leaving the room in a heavy silence. The weight of his words settled upon those present, forcing them to consider the unsettling truth he had revealed and ponder on the best way forward.