Two Days Later

Outside of Strathholme

It took two days for John and his troops to make their way to the Northern City of Stratholme, stopping only to sleep or provide what aid they could to any refugees they met on the road. They had encountered a few small groups of undead, but they were barely enough to cause the armoured knights pause, let alone stop their advance.

John had walked alongside his men, wearing his Black Templar armour with a blue cape, those silver plates that signified he was indeed a paladin dangling around his neck*. He had his sword on one hip, the quiver on the other, and the bow he had never used on his back. He had only brought the Pelican out for a couple of quick recon flights when they stopped to eat or sleep, he and Jaina using it as their own private getaway in the evening. She would ride him until she was completely exhausted, wanting to make sure she was good and pregnant before she would have to return to Dalaran and make her report, then they would pass out in each other’s arms.

It is good to be the prince.

Eh, and the rest of the Alphabets, under the guidance of the Steeltoe brothers, managed to somehow turn their armour black like Johns, with some of the grey steel left in the shape of the crosses that were on his armour as well. The two dwarves also came up with a way to adjust the parachute straps to connect to their armour without fouling the shoulder joints, letting the Alphabets carry the parachutes at all times in case they needed to deploy again quickly.  John thought it was a little much, but didn’t question them; if they wanted to carry even more weight around, who was he to stop them?

He did get more healing practice in, casting a basic heal on everyone in the group at night, soothing any aches and pains they received from the day’s march.  He wasn’t sure how much training value he was getting out of casting the basic healing spells anymore, but as long as his unit was ready to fight, it didn’t matter all that much. He still didn’t level enough to get the Paladin resurrection magic, but that wasn’t a big deal, it would come with time.

It was late afternoon on the second day as they approached the city, the sun now hidden behind a wall of darkening clouds that threatened to open into a downpour at any moment. The spitting rain was beginning to make John feel a little nostalgic, realising this was one of the first times it had rained since he arrived at DEN. He used to sit on his porch swing with a coffee in his hand, listening to the rain while reading the morning news, or his wife would sit on his lap and they would cuddle as the rain fell outside.  

That isn’t happening today, though maybe we can sit in the Pelican’s cockpit and cuddle this evening. Depends on whether Uther has discovered what this threat is. If it is the Demons, we will have to begin evacuating the city. Honestly, we might want to do that anyway, before they completely cut it off from resupply. If the view from the Pelican is any indication, we have already lost the North and just don’t know it yet.

John’s musings were interrupted when a footman was spotted running towards them from the city gates, waving his hands wildly. John called for a halt, then walked out to meet the man, Jaina, Eh, and the two junior Paladins in tow.

“Milord! Don’t approach the city! There is a plague running rampant through it!” The man shouted, staying about ten paces away from their group.

“A plague? What kind of plague? Where is Lord Uther?” John asked, already knowing the answer to the plague bit. 

“It was the grain from Andolhal, milord! It was mixed in with other villages’ grain, poisoning it all.  Lord Uther and most of the town had eaten bread made with it before it was discovered. Before he was bedridden, he left orders for us who didn’t eat the poisoned food to give you this letter when you arrived.” The man replied, holding a messenger’s satchel under his arm.

“You’re not affected?” He asked.

“No, Milord, my unit was out on patrol for several days. When we returned, we found the city as you see it, full of the plague. He met us at the gate, and tossed us this satchel and said to wait for your arrival.”

“Bring it here.” He said. He wasn’t sure whether this plague only passed through food or was also airborne, but if this man hadn’t been affected yet, it was probably just the former.

Taking the satchel from the man, John pulled two letters out of it. One was addressed to him, the other to his father. He tucked the one for his father back into the bag and handed it to Eh, then opened it in front of the group of concerned onlookers.

He read it once, then again to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He handed it to one of the paladins, a man named Darvil. “Read it aloud.” He commanded, then turned away from the group, trying to collect his thoughts.

Darvil cleared his throat and began to speak.

Lad,

I hope this letter finds you well, as I am afraid that I am not. The plagued grain stores we had been tracking made it into the town’s supply, and we caught it too late. Now, I am coughing up blood, as is the rest of the city, while we wait for death to come and claim us. Just as I saw from the grain shipment that was consumed in Hearthglen, it won’t be long until we turn into undead monsters. Healing does not seem to affect this plague, nor do any herbs that we have access to in the city.

We are lost, Lad. Take the men who remain unaffected and leave this place, evacuate the remaining villages that remain unaffected, and return to the capital. I have left detailed instructions on the back of this letter and the one I will write to your father about where to set up our defences. 

As my last command to you, as the Commander of the Knights of the Silver Hand, lead your people to safety and take command of our defences in Lordaeron. Use the tools The Light has provided you to protect our people. You are in charge now, my prince.

By the will of The Light,

Supreme Commander of the Paladin Order, the First Paladin,

Lord Uther the Lightbringer

After he finished, they all looked towards John, their new commander. Jaina came up beside him and leaned on his arm, resting her head on his armoured shoulder. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to.

“Milord, what are your orders?” Davil asked after a minute.

“Davil, take the men and begin the journey back to Lordaeron. Stop by any villages along the route that remain unaffected and evacuate them. Eh, have the Alphabets set up a camp over near that treeline. We will catch up with the main force tonight or tomorrow in the Pelican. We have some investigations to do first.” John said in a terse voice.

“What are you going to do, Sire?” Eh asked him.

“I am going into that city, and I am going to find out what exactly is going on.” He said, still not turning around. The rain seemed to be coming down harder now; it was getting into his eye.

“Sire, you can’t-” Eh said, about to object to John’s plan, but stopped when John turned his head towards him, his multicoloured eye flaring with both green and blue energy.

“I can, and I will. I have magic that this world has never seen, Captain. I will be damned if I don’t at least try to save Uther and the fifty thousand people in this town. Now, get moving!” He shouted, his anger beginning to boil to the surface. He wasn’t even touching his sword, and he could feel its power ready to be released at a moment’s notice, feeding off his anger and powering his body. 

The men hesitated for a moment, then turned in haste, shouting orders to the soldiers to get moving. 

“John,” Jaina said, still holding his arm.

“I’m fine, Jaina. Come, let’s go.” He said, then turned to shout at Eh. “No more than four escorts, Captain. Volunteers only. I am going into the city in two minutes, and no, you can’t come this time, you have things to do.”

Every hand was raised in the Alphabets, even before Eh had turned around to ask. So in under a minute, Bee, Dee, Iron, and one of the elven healers named Wyltras joined Jaina and him for his inspection of the plagued city.

The city was silent, like a ghost town, a far cry from the bustling hub of activity it had been just a few days ago when he first arrived. There was no one on the streets at all, almost like everyone had been teleported away, leaving nothing but discarded tools and abandoned wagons behind. John was making a beeline to the keep, assuming that would be where he would find that man whom this body thought of as… no, not as how this body thought of, who John felt was like a Uncle to him. These were his memories now, as he didn’t see any way to remove them, nor did he want to anymore.

It is weird that I have a living mother and father again, ones that I am older than to boot, but I don’t want to lose them if I can help it. Also, I have an older sister named Calia, too. Hah, those two women have been pushing for me to get married and have an heir soon. I can’t wait to tell them about Jaina. Maybe they will finally get off my back. 

His thoughts moved from his family to the situation at hand. He knew that the demons had to be involved, but unless they found something in this town to prove it, he wasn’t sure what to do. He would have to go and see Jaina’s father at some point, and inquire if his ocean going nation would be able to evacuate his people enmass to Kalimdor, providing the Prophet’s words rung true.

Or is that our only option? Could we move the majority of the population down to Azeroth? Or maybe with the dwarves in Khaz Modan? These will have to be discussed with Father once I find some proof.  

He shook his head. Even if he were King tomorrow, he would be hard pressed to displace an entire nation on the vision alone without any actual proof. His soldiers would follow his orders, but the nobles would fight him every step of the way, not wanting to believe that the demons had returned until it was too late.

He felt a headache coming on, both of John’s minds having a distaste for politics and debating. He knew that was how things worked, and he would do it, but that didn’t mean he was going to pretend he liked it.  

They made it to the keep a few minutes later, no guards in sight, and the gates were left ajar. John nodded for the footmen to lead, then followed behind them. The courtyard was much like the town, devoid of people and tools and equipment abandoned everywhere. The party made up to the keep itself, Dee pushing open the door while the other two entered with their swords drawn, the eeriness of the situation making them err on the side of caution.

“Milord, quickly! It’s Lord Uther!” Iron called out from inside.

John rushed through the door, expecting to find the corpse of his uncle on the other side. Instead, he found the man seated on a nearby bench, still in his armour, leaning forward and supporting his weight on his hammer. He was coughing loudly, bloody flecks coming out of his mouth, covering his lips and parts of his once grey armour in red. He looked pale, his healthy skin tone turning almost grey, the plague having already seeped deep into his body.

He looked like a zombie from High School of the Dead.

“Uther!” He said, kneeling beside the man, grabbing hold of his bloody hands. 

“Lad? What *Cough* What in the blazes are you doing here? *Cough, cough* Didn’t you get my orders? Flee, boy! Before this takes you too!” He said, trying to push John back, then broke down in a fit of coughing. 

“I can’t do that, Uncle… not until I exhaust every option of saving you and these people,” John said.

“Blast it, Lad! We are dying. *Cough* Healing magic didn’t even touch whatever this infection is. By The Light, leave us to die and defend Lordaeron.”

“Your magic may have failed, but we haven’t tried mine yet,” John said, then grasped both sides of Uther’s face firmly. “CURE!” 

A bright blue and green magic flowed through John, enhanced by both his armour and the anger of the sword, pushing into the ailing Paladin Commander. Both of their bodies glowed with his power, John holding Uther steady as the older paladin began to scream in pain, the infestation being forcibly removed from his body. 

After what felt like an eternity, Uther vomited, spewing a nasty grey blob that was glowing green on the floor, the remnants of the plague that had infected the man still emitting their dark magics. John shot a firebolt into it, burning the offending matter to a crisp. 

“There, old man, how are you feeling now?” John said, pushing him back into the seat and releasing his grip on Uther’s face. 

“Like my insides are on fire.” He said, coughing a few more times, this time with no blood. “What in the Light was that?”

“That would be an amped up cure spell. It actually didn’t take that much magic to use. I could probably do it a hundred and fifty more times or so before I need to rest. Two hundred if I were fully rested.” John said, casting a healing spell on the man to help with the pain. 

“Two hundred? That’s insane! Just how much mana do you have, Lad?”

“Between the Lights blessing and gaining more experience as a Paladin? Close to a thousand mana if I were full.” John said, looking at his DEN status screen for the first time in a while. He had glanced at it when he first arrived, but didn’t look at it again until now.

“What? I don’t even have that much!” Jaina said beside him.

“Be that as it may, I don’t know if we have time to do everyone with this spell,” John said, his mind thinking. There was a much more powerful version of Cure in his spell tomes, Purification. It was a wide scale area of effect spell, fifteen meters in diameter, centered on the caster. He just needed his holy magic level to be high enough to cast it. It might be already, but he hadn’t memorized the spell yet.

“Bee, go get Eh and the rest of the men and start going door to door to gather the city folk here in front of the keep, carry them here if you have to. By The Light, I will cure everyone of this plague. The demons will not have this city!” John ordered, then turned back to Jaina. “If you or the sorceresses are carrying extra mana potions somewhere, I need them. The crown will reimburse the cost.”  

“No problem.” She said, then leaned up for a quick kiss. He embraced her instead, kissing her deeply, before letting her go. He didn’t know when he would be back, but he would. There was so much in this world for him to do and learn. 

Finally, he turned back to Uther. “Rest, Uncle. Let me handle this myself.”

“I will, Lad.” He said with a smile on his face. “It is good to see you two back together. Your parents will be happy that they don’t need to set up an arranged marriage for you now.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Do what you need to do, Lad. I am just going to rest my eyes a bit.” Uther said, lying down on the bench, falling asleep before his head even hit the cushion.

“Right. Whatever, I won’t be able to get an answer about that now. Dee, Iron, search the Keep for anyone else and bring them down here. I’ll heal them all.” John said, giving out his last orders. Then spoke in his mind those words he had so many times before.

DEN Return!

The world went black and white, turned to static, then twisted into blackness.

* – I know that he is supposed to have them, whatever they are, but I can’t actually find them in any model or picture of Arthas… it can’t mean his pauldrons, so I am actually at a loss for what they are supposed to be. I’m assuming they are like dog tags, except bigger, maybe? 

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