((Written by Bricu with help from Threnn.
You can see both halves of Part One, Here and Here ))
Within the blink of an eye, Bricu and Threnn were standing shoulder to shoulder with others from the Alliance. There were a few familiar faces–including one green haired Kaldorei who wore the same Colors as the paladins, but tried to disappear in the crowd–but before either could say anything, Varessa Windrunner addressed the crowd with the a carefully crafted, and lovingly delivered, speech.
“The Sunreaver’s Sanctuary is still crawling with those Horde-loving Sunreavers. Jaina will have sent the reasonable ones to the Violet Hold. The rest refuse to leave, raising their weapons against us. Show them the cost of their defiance. They now face the judgment of the Alliance, the Silver Covenant, and the Kirin Tor!”
Her zeal was unmistakable and infectious. The crowd swelled and pushed forward into Dalaran’s streets. Several of the soldiers hollered and chanted, some banged their swords on their shields. Others marched with precision.
Bricu turned to Threnn. She shook her head while he held up one finger. Then, turning towards Varessa, he raised his voice above the din and asked a question–
Varessa turned her gaze towards the two paladins who did not seemed to be swept up in her rallying cry.
“Go find those lying rats and exterminate them!”
“The lyin’ rats in their homes? In their sanctuary?”
“That is what I have said, Northman, now get to…” Varessa said.
“Got any torches then?” He asked.
“For?” Varessa asked haltingly.
“Well, last time I went ‘round kickin’ in folks doors an’ draggin’ folks inta the street, the Bloody Prince gave us the order ta put them ta the torch as well, ta cut down on the plague. So, I’m just checkin’ on how closely yer modelin’ this particular order. Are yeh just inspired by ‘im, or are yeh goin’ full bore Bloody Princess an become Necromancer-enhanced-wonky?”
Varessa Windrunner glared at the paladins, studying their faces and clearly noting their colors. “I do not care for your tone or your words, Northman.”
“We don’t care for your orders, Lady Windrunner.” Threnn said.
“Then leave, but know the Kirin Tor will remember that you did not aid us when we called.”
“That’s clever, given yer track record. The first time yeh fuckers called on us, it was ta torture folk in the North. This time it’s attackin’ civvies. So let us end this ‘aid’ with words from the North: get fucked.”
Bricu fired off his traditional salute to authority, while Threnn kept her one hand on her blade, the other on her husband. The walked out of the Violet Citadel, heads held high.
“I don’t think this will win you Jania’s affections….by the light.” Threnn said, her voice catching.
“It’s bloody worse than I thought.” Bricu whispered.
Men and women from across the Alliance strode through Dalaran, dispatching Sin’dorei with careless, nearly bloodthirsty ease. The few respectful ones made motions to arrest and detain the fleeing elves. Most did not even bother with the pretense. They sacked stores and homes with abandon if not out-right glee. Familiar faces–some very well know to both Bricu and Threnn–were slinging spells and slitting the throats of Sin’dorei men and women. Some who put up a fight, others who were running away, and a few who begged for their lives.
The brave soldiers of the Alliance put them all to the sword.
Bricu took out his hearthstone from his pack and looked to Threnn.
“This isn’t our fight.”
“Not this time.” Threnn said.
“Fightin’ our own folk isn’t right.”
“This isn’t either.”
Threnn drew her sword and Bricu put the hearthstone away. He took the axe from the sling on his back and rested it on his shoulder.
“Yeh know love, no good deed goes unpunished.”
“When has the threat of punishment ever stopped one of us?” Threnn said, as she headed towards a cluster of Sin’dorei homes. A cluster that two men–a dwarf and a human–in Alliance colors had already begun to attack. They could both hear the elves scream as the dwarf kicked in the door.
Bricu and Threnn rushed to the front door. The dwarf who kicked the door in stood over a family of five–two young elven boys, one young girl and their parents. The mother, dressed in the robes of a magistrix, was passed out bleeding from a vicious cut just above her eye, while the father was trying to shield the children. The Dwarf menaced them them with two wicked looking hand axes. The human was pilfering through the families’ magical trinkets,lecturing them about duty and honor.
“You bring this on yourselves, you know.” He said, slipping a gold and emerald bauble into his pocket. “If you had just stuck with the Alliance and didn’t betray us time and time…”
The pedantic soldier turned, raising his sword, towards the charging northman. Bricu slammed the head of his axe into the man’s chest, sending him sprawling.
“Run the fuck out o’here!” Bricu yelled in Thalassian.
The Sin’dorei urged his children to run, and pulled his wife towards the back room.
The dwarf also shifted towards Bricu, bringing his hand axes to bear, but his attack was interrupted mid swing by Threnn’s parry. Mindful of the smaller space, Threnn ran her the blade of her bastard sword up the hand axes, locking the wicked barbs on the axes to her sword. The axes and the sword creaked with the strain, but the steel held together. When she was standing chest to chest with the dwarf, she grabbed the blade with her left hand, and pulled it into the dwarf’s cheek. Free of the axes, she brought the pommel of her sword with a crack onto the dwarf’s head. He collapsed into a heap on the floor.
As his companion fell to the ground, the human pulled himself to his feet and ran–whether it was to find the family or find another way out, neither Bricu nor Threnn could tell.
“Go.” Threnn said, “I’ll keep watch.” She set herself a the door, watching for more of her countrymen.
Bricu ran further into the house, looking for the one that almost got away.