Unrepentant 1

Unrepentant
Alan 1

-VB-

This was my moment of victory and yet loss.

To get this prize, I burned nearly all of the political capital I had built up. I’ve even gone so far as to burn half of the wealth I inherited. It certainly helped that I was out with the rest of the Alliance in killing the orcish Horde that came for us.

And so, I, the youngest son of the House of Perenolde, the royalty of Alterac Kingdom, inherited the throne with the approval of the rest of the Alliance of Lordaeron after my father and eldest brother were exiled from the kingdom.

Surviving Lord Daval Prestor had been hard, but I managed it nonetheless because I was a magician myself, just not the kind that Azeroth as a whole was familiar with.

“- and with the blessing of the Light itself, I name you Alan Perenolde, the King of the Alterac Kingdom!” Turalyon declared in front of a massive cathedral hall filled with nobles, delegates, other royalties, and many influential peoples from the Alliance of Lordaeron as he placed the traditional crown of the Alterac Kingdom, the Crown of the High Peaks. Its uneven tips supposedly represented the rugged landscape my people lived in.

As the crown was set around my head and Turalyon backed off, I stood up with a grave face and looked to the crowd before me.

“I thank you all for coming here today,” I said loudly. The crowd stirred before stilling, waiting to hear what I had to say. “I do not stand before you as a peaceful transition of power but one of shame and disappointment,” I paused to let those words sink in. “While three thousand Alteracians and I were out in the field, fighting in the frontlines against the destructive and pillaging Horde, my father and my eldest brother opened the gates to allow those very same enemies passage into Tirisfal Glades to strike at Lordaeron City.

“Whatever excuses they used to justify their action do not matter for they had broken an oath they had taken. If they wanted to stay out of this war in the first place, all they had to do was keep ourselves isolated. However, they participated and then broke the oaths of not just our honor but one that threatened humanity as a whole.

“I stand before you as the only honorable man of my family. I am deeply ashamed of this.”

He bowed my head as if I had dropped it in shame. Then I picked it back up. I saw Turalyon’s regretful look from the periphery of my vision.

“But that is in the past. I stand here today to make an oath.”

To the surprise of many in the crowd, I held up my left hand and waited as Turalyon - who was in on this - brought out the holy text of the Church of the Holy Light.

“I solemnly swear upon my very soul that I, King Alan Perenolde, will act in honor and defense of humanity. I shall be the guiding example for my people, a stalwart guardian for my peers, and a trustworthy sword upon which other members of the Alliance of Lordaeron can depend on in our time of need!”

There was a moment of silence before the crowd stood up from their seats and gave me a thunderous applause.

-VB-

The real work of being a king happened a week after the coronation as the coronation festival came to a close.

Seated with me in this room and around the round table were the other kings and lords of the Alliance: King Magni Bronzebeard of Khaz Modan, King Thoras Trollbane of Stromgarde, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind, High Tinker Gelbin Mekkatorque of Gnomeregan, King Genn Greymane of Gilneas, and High Commander Turalyon. Not seated by present was Alleria Windrunner, representing the High Elf volunteers who partook in the war.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I said slowly. “Honestly, I expected very few of us to be here…”

Greymanne sneered. “You insisted that we be here, so here we are.”

I nodded. “And I thank you for that. I simply wanted to address some of the issues that our Alliance might face in the future.”

“You think there will be more orc incursions?” King Trollbane asked with narrowed eyes. The man’s hatred of the orcs was legendary.

I nodded slowly. “They have built the Dark Portals once. They can do so again. There is a threat closer to home. As I have urged before, we have left their strongholds in Blackrock Spire and Grim Batol alone. These two alone would sever our alliance in half simply due to their placements,” I explained. “Because as diminished as they are, these Horde remnants still hold over one resource that can see us destroyed.”

“The Red Dragonflight…” Alleria muttered.

“You would have us extend the war?” Greymanne snarled. “No. I’m done. I’m not putting my people at risk over a piece of piss shit land that nobody wants anyways,” he said and stood up.

“The Red Dragonflight, under the chains of the orcs, are a threat to everyone, King Greymanne,” Alleria spoke up in defense of what I was suggesting. “It will reflect badl-”

“Oh, piss of, elf,” he sneered. “Your king is worse than I am. At least I provided a legitimate help with supplies and armies, and you don’t see me giving you the high moral ground speech, do you?”

She frowned but stopped talking. While what he said was true, his “supplies and armies” were nothing compared to what the rest of the Alliance individually offered. Stormwind remnants made up the second biggest contingent with twenty-thousand soldiers, Lordaeron at first with thirty-five thousand, Stromgarde in the middle with eight thousand, and Alterac with three thousand.

Gilneas offered only one thousand five hundred volunteers, not their professional standing army, and the “supplies” they gave was merely permission from their kingdom to use the tariff from minimal trade that occurred between them and Lordaeron to fuel the war effort.

If I had to put a number to it, then Gilneas offered less than five percent of the war effort in both manpower and money.

Everyone in the room glared at him as he left.

“Scrooge,” I muttered, and the rest of us grunted and nodded in agreement, even Turalyon. “He even had a ‘good time’ with the festival.”

“So what now?”

“I will provide troops that I can spare,” I grimaced. “But seeing as we are fighting the Dragonmaw and their red dragons, I will be offering something else to go with my soldiers.”

“And what would that be?”

“It’s something I have been developing before I was sent to the war to die.”

Everyone grimaced.

It was not that big of a secret that my father and eldest brother wanted me dead. I was the popular prince, the one that the people wanted on the throne.

I was the unpopular prince among the nobles, the one who pushed for more wealth of the kingdom to be spent on the people and not the nobles and the industries they held sway.

Those nobles sided with the king to open their gates.

Those nobles were now gone, exiled or in prison.

Those nobles lost everything but the things they could carry with them.

Their lands, their titles, their people, and whatever gold they couldn’t carry with them?

All mine.

It was why I was able to do this.

“I will provide twelve thousand gold for this endeavor.”

The kings looked shocked at me.

Nationally, it was not a large sum, but it would be enough to rebuild Stormwind if I used it that way.

“You really want Grim Batol subjugated, huh?” Varian asked me, still a little shocked.

“I do, and as penance for my father’s sin, I will also take on the internment camps for the orcs.”

“Very well,” Turalyon spoke up. “I agree to this. Keeping the enemy so close to Stromgarde and Ironforge does none of us good.”

The two kings nodded in agreement.

Terenas Menethil didn’t look like he agreed to this. While the man looked forward to keeping the Alliance together for his dream was of a unified humanity, he saw just as I did that I was taking steps to cement myself as someone trustworthy within the Alliance.

“My soldiers will take charge,” he quickly added, glancing at me and meeting my stare with his own. “Lordaeron will see to the end of the Horde threat in all of the Eastern Kingdoms.”

“Then it is settled!” Turalyon smiled triumphantly. “One final march to Grim Batol and then to Blackrock Spire. To put an end to our enemies!”

We all raised toast to this.

We all hated the orcs.

Almost all of us wanted them dead.

All of us but me.

Why kill them when I could use them for slave labor?