Karp
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Chapter 111
🕑 Added 2024-11-21 20:29:22 +0000 UTCSailing into the nation of Gilneas proper, Varrus consulted a map from within his cabin.
The country was a large peninsula divided into 5 different regions.
To the north was the province of Northgate. This region was where the wall that separated Gilneas from the rest of the Eastern Kingdoms was located, and the sight that began the rebellion in the first place. It was flush with trees, and was where the famous Gilnean ironwood was procured. Before the Orc War, and Gilneas's withdrawal from the world, lumber was their number one export.
In the east was the province of Emberstone. It was home to many mines, and mineral deposits. Additionally, its mostly flat land was the only one suitable for farms amongst all of Gilneas's regions.
To the south was the Blackwald, a large swampy province deemed to be almost uninhabitable. What Towns and villages that did exist were primarily along the coast. Often these places had the phrase ‘storm’ somewhere in their name. Unsurprisingly, this region was often subject to heavy flooding, and dense rainfall.
To the west and north-west were the Headlands. A region hilly and rainy, it was similar in feature to much of northern Scotland, and had many cliffs on the western side, making it impossible for any ports to form. However, the eastern side of this peninsula was sheltered from waves, and many fishing communities formed. It was here that Keel Harbor-one of the major rebel strongholds-was located.
Lastly, in the center of it all was Varrus's current destination.
Gilneas City.
Sitting upon a series of large islands, the city was similar in geography to New York City. In terms of sheer size, the landmass of Gilneas City was almost as large as any one province. In effect, it was practically a state all of its own.
The seat of the royal Greymane family, Gilneas City had a proud military tradition, and trained thousands of soldiers every year. It served as the commercial hub, and as a beacon for craftsmen to ply their trade.
“We should go on a date when we arrive. I heard Gilneas City is quite the opposite of Silvermoon from the bards, and other soldiers I fought alongside in the Orc War. I wonder if this is true?” Syra spoke from a nearby chair.
Varrus looked over, and saw she was busy sharpening her sword. The care and attention she spent into maintaining her weapon was another trait he admired about her. It took real work and dedication to keep a weapon fresh and ready to go. The fact she did it herself gave her a reliable quality, and made her seem more down to earth than the regular prissy Highborn.
“What? You agree don't you?” Syra looked up from her blade, and looked at Varrus curiously since he had been staring at her silently.
“Of course I do, we'll have a great time in Gilneas City, I'm sure heads will roll when the locals see us.” Varrus grinned. “I was simply caught up in the moment admiring my wife's skills.” Varrus gestured towards her blade.
“Well, anyone could do it.” Syra quickly turned back to her task, but Varrus noticed her cheeks were flushed red.
The grin on his face only blossomed wider. Syra was so used to being needled by her mother, that whenever he genuinely praised her, she would clam up, and turn red like a tomato.
It was quite adorable.
Varrus was about to tease her some more when he felt the boat shake to a sudden halt.
Stumbling forward, Syra suddenly stood, and caught him in a tight embrace.
“I'd better go check what that is.” Varrus said in an annoyed tone-like someone forced to get out of bed on a day off-and reluctantly pried himself out of Syra's arms.
Walking up onto the deck, Varrus found that their ship was surrounded by 3 other vessels. A dozen searchlights pierced the thick fog, and almost blinded him with their intensity.
Shading his eyes, Varrus followed the source of the light, and found several stone watchtowers, and a wall flush with cannons on the horizon. Further past the wall was an opening leading to a harbor.
They must be at Gilneas City!
“Stay where you are, and prepare to be boarded!” A nasally, cultured voice yelled at them from one of the other boats.
A gangplank was soon slammed down upon the side of their ship, and a gaggle of armed men rushed aboard.
“Good morning gentleman, what can we do for you this fine morning?” Varrus stepped forth with a friendly grin on his face.
The grim soldiers roughly pointed blades and muskets at the polymorphed members of House Vandercross. Varrus saw that many of them looked haggard, and had dark circles under their eyes.
These men looked trigger happy. The paranoia of zombies, and Worgen would do that to a man. Varrus idly thought to himself.
“You men wear the tabard of Vanhook, where is your Lord, has he gone and gotten himself slain? What are you doing returning to Gilneas City 6 months after the Scourge outbreak? You're not knife-eared spies, hm?” The cultured voice from earlier spoke out once more.
Heavy boots slammed along the gangplank, and a bearded, spectacled old man appeared out of the fog.
Dressed in all black like a funeral mourner, the man wore a top hat in the style that Abraham Lincoln wore, and wielded a rapier in one hand, and a flintlock in the other.
Varrus recognized this man. He was the third most influential man within the kingdom, it was Lord Vincent Godfrey.
“Greetings Lord Godfrey, I am Vigo, heir and nephew to the late Lord Vanhook. We rode out the storm in Quel'Thalas, tis true, but when we learnt of a rebellion taking place in our homeland, we rushed back to swear our allegiance to the crown.” Varrus placed a hand over his heart, and tilted his head.
“A most heartwarming tale, young Vigo. If it is true, I am certain the King would be pleased to add another ship to his navy. We are facing dark times, where kin can smile with one word, then stab a friend in the back with that very same smile. You understand, of course, that we must search your vessel?” Godfrey asked rhetorically. At the same time, he waved his hands at his soldiers, and they began their search, uncaring for Varrus's consent.
Varrus didn't care for this treatment, but he understood why someone neck deep in a civil war would be so suspicious of a noble that returned so late into the conflict.
That didn't mean Varrus was going to let Godfrey off though. If he was just doing his duty, Varrus wouldn't mind, but the guy was being a prick about it. Plus, Godfrey was a diehard Human supremacist. Canonically, when he learnt that Greymane was infected with the Worgen curse, he committed suicide rather than serve what in his eyes, was a perversion.
Such a character would prove to be a thorn in Varrus's idea of Elven hegemony, so for that reason, he had to go.
“Easy with the chests, I have traded for some fine silks, fresh foods, and arms!” Varrus raised his voice as he saw the soldiers roughly handle his merchandise.
“You don't have anything to hide, hm? No rebels hidden amongst your crew? Or missing goods donated graciously to the Northgaters?” Godfrey pressed his spectacles to his face, and leaned close to Varrus in suspicion.
Varrus wrinkled his nose as the man's breath was foul, and reeked of garlic.
“Nonsense. I have-at great personal expense-secured a gift for King Greymane and his subjects. The Scourge and the traitors are a serious threat to my homeland. It is every native Gilneans dream to see our country whole and strong against all threats, whether they be foreign.” Varrus paused to look out towards the Highlands. “Or domestic.” Varrus about faced, and glared at Godfrey.
“Oh hoh hoh, you have gumption boy, a real Gilnean! Unlike that soft hearted fool, Crowley. I do hope you speak truth, Vigo.” Godfrey revealed a mouth full of pearly whites, then turned to his adjutant.
“It's as he says sir, the hold is full of food and weapons. None of their crew match any of the descriptions of the wanted posters either. The ship is filled to capacity, he couldn't have donated any supplies to the rebels my Lord.” The adjutant saluted.
“Well then, it seems I'll be calling you ‘Lord Vanhook’ in the near future when you give your vows to the King, won't I? Ha! Rest at your manor, and I'll see a page notify you when the King is available. This gift will surely put a smile on his face.” Godfrey sheathed his weapons, and tipped his hat at Varrus.
“I live to serve Gilneas.” Varrus cooly replied.
“Of course you do. Welcome home!” Godfrey cackled, then turned about to board his ship.
Once the other boats unhooked themselves from the Golden Loom, Varrus sighed in relief that his cover wasn't blown.
It would be a hassle to kill his way out, and make his planned infiltration that much more difficult.
Thankfully, he had tons of resources within his Deep Storage. After sending Lorna Crowley off with some goods, he simply refilled the chests in his hold from his inventory.
“Such disrespect, I will be glad to show him the hospitality of the Vandercross dungeons, Highlord.” Rho'dan said from the side.
Varrus glanced at his long-time guard, and shook his head. Although he was a stalwart guardian who often offered rational advice, it was easy to forget how bloodthirsty he and the Crossguard could be at times.
An image of Zul’Jin regrowing his limbs, only to have them hacked off again and again by his men flashed through his mind.
“That will be unnecessary my friend. It is better to end such cantankerous old men than to posture and gloat. Some enemies are better transformed into ash, then to chance their return.” Varrus cautioned, as he had had enough of the typical ‘good guy’ narrative in which imprisoned great evils escape to wreak havoc on the world.
Hell, all of the Old Gods were currently imprisoned, and were ticking time bombs just waiting to ravage Azeroth once more.
In fact, Godfrey ended up becoming an Undead in the original timeline, and became a terrorist guerrilla fighter. So yeah, Varrus would only use prison if there was no other choice, like with Dakar. Otherwise, it was simply in his best interest to eliminate all his opponents.
“I think I know what I want to do for our date.” Syra emerged from the cabin, and placed her chin on Varrus's shoulder.
Varrus glanced at Syra's joyful expression of gleeful murder, and he could only shake his head once more.
‘Sorry old man, but it seems your time has come.’
“Of course, my dear, but let us get settled in at the manor first, then we shall have our fun.” Varrus acquiesced to her idea.
“Shall I take us in?” Rho'dan questioned, and gestured towards the harbor.
Varrus nodded his head, then turned to address the rest of House Vandercross that had come along.
“This is it people, I know that the Humans may not be important to you, but they will serve as a valuable asset in our war against the Scourge. Do not allow yourselves to be revealed. You all have your assignments, for House Vandercross!”
“For House Vandercross!” The men echoed.
Varrus nodded at them happily.
Gilneas would join them soon. Once that was accomplished, and Telonicus had set up the Rune Stones, he would restore the Sunwell.
It was all coming together. A net was slowly forming around the Scourge, and they didn't know better.
Comments
Jar Jar Bingus
Godrey looks like he's about to tell Shinji to get in the robot
Conor McGroarty
To be fair, the Titans only left the Old Gods alone after Papa Aman’Thul ripped Y'Shaarj (the strongest) from Azeroth, wounding her and forming the Well of Eternity from her blood. Since the Old Gods were dug too deep in Azeroth’s cradle to be safely removed, next best choice was containment. Of course the subsequent failures of numerous failsafes, lack of maintenance and the Titan Pantheon going dark didn’t help. But I’m sure Azeroth and the Old Gods falls under Varrus’ exceptions where prison is chosen over killing.
Kasikan
Hope his time killing ass holes in Gilneas leads him to deciding he's put up with enough shit back home and starts killing off some of the Elves as well. He's been way too passive with some of the so called leaders. Be better to start placing his own people in their places. Especially after the runes are set and several people have out lived their usefulness.
