Wielding the Stars to Craft War (Warcraft/Starcraft)

For all his long years, traveling by carriage was a highly novel experience for Vasyrgos. As was maintaining a mortal form for any longer than a day. Yet for all the discomfort and limitations, the dragon found himself rather enjoying the bumps and sways of the ground-based transport. There was something quaint about the sensibilities of the strictly bipedal mortals, being half-buried in a cushioned seat especially.

Opposite him was the ever stoic and serious Korialstrasz, or ‘Krasus’ as his cover was called. The red-robed archmage managed to compose himself to a regal, almost graceful silence throughout the journey so far, every movement economically minimal, every word carefully phrased.

In contrast Vasyrgos barely sat still, his human head craning about to decipher the carriage’s design, and then peering out the window to study Kor’s hired escorts, and then turning his attention back into the carriage to look at the other passengers. And then he repeated the whole thing, in a different order as his attention dictated.

Contrary to mortal assumptions, the fidgeting meant that he was far from bored. There was just so much to study! Especially when compared to the drabness of his cavern.

Already in the four days of trundling along, he had picked out that Korialstrasz’s companions were shrewdly chosen. Vasyrgos might be far less immersed in mortal happenings, but he did understand some basic politics. Judging from who rode along with them, Archmage Krasus had quite a long reach it seems.

Other than the disguised dragons and Kyle, two magi and a walking fort sat in with them.

The arcane duo was made up of a gnome and an elf, the robes of the former in Gnomeregan’s brass and purple while the latter wore the rich crimson and gold of Quel’Thalas. In the same fashion, within the small hulk of burnished steel and red gold was a dwarf of Khaz Modan.

The gnome had his face buried in a tome almost as big as himself as he sat between the dwarven warrior and Krasus, while the silently aloof elf sat past Kyle who too sat quietly beside Vasyrgos’ human form.

Where the gnome was fully engrossed in his book - something related to transmogrification if Vasyrgos read the magics off it correctly - both elf and dwarf would occasionally turn their attention to Kyle for a few seconds before returning to whatever thoughts they entertained. There was some conflicted feelings that none of the trio cared at all for the blue-haired human that rode along with them.

On the one hand, being passed over meant that Vasyrgos’ shapeshifting was good enough to not draw immediate attention.

On the other hand, after having owlbears and trolls flee from just the sight of him, being ignored felt…offensive somewhat. There was a temptation to draw their attention by casting a cantrip the mortals would’ve never seen before, or loosening his guise to reveal some draconic features. Common sense won out though, and Vasyrgos easily let the notion slip by in favor of taking in ever more details of his surroundings.

The gnome, Pelton Quickgear, for example, was on friendly terms with Krasus, being a smiling and cheery sort before his face was completely hidden by the tome. The bejeweled stud on his right earlobe and the amulet under his robes were heavily enchanted, radiating some flavor of offensive magic. Frost and lightning, if Vasyrgos had to guess. In addition to his accessories, Pelton was a mage of some capabilities, as his small form was thickly shrouded with carefully regulated mana.

For all the magic radiating from him though, his opposite number, a Halion Dawnsong, was clearly several levels ahead. Vasyrgos could taste how refined the elf’s mana was. It was more intense, as all elven mana naturally was. And the way Halion kept his mana tightly wrapped around himself suggested literal centuries of experience. An arcane bolt from the elf might actually cause Vasyrgos to lose a few scales.

While the two magi were interesting traveling companions, Vasyrgos found himself far more intrigued by the dwarf’s presence. Just what kind of dabbling in mortal affairs did Korialstrasz involve himself in to gain the allegiance of a dwarf, and if he had a roster of them, why this one?

There was only a trace of magic on the thick armor she wore, though the battleaxe by her side glinted with familiar violent runes. Still, Lora (she hadn’t given any further names) only had minimal magic on herself. And unlike the gnome’s friendliness and the elf’s veneration, the steel-wrapped warrior had regarded Krasus with a simple nod that held reluctant respect.

Very curious, but Vasyrgos doubted he’d get the story behind that anytime soon.

At least he knew why she was here, as were the two magi. As Dalaran had officially sent Kyle to Alterac to actually see the lands he’d be ruling and meet with his regents, Koriazstrasz had gotten his agents to join along as emissaries of Gnomeregan, Quel’Thalas, and Khaz Modan acting as observers from the non-human but no less important members of the Alliance. Vasyrgos didn’t know what their duties were exactly, but he knew that they were the true guards for Krasus and Kyle, as the hired swords escorting the carriage were more of a token piece to keep up appearances.

Vasyrgos’ guise on the other hand, was simply an unaligned peer of Krasus. The barebones cover was that Valoghan was a hermit sage who had Krasus as a lifeline to the outside world. The blue hair was from an experiment gone wrong. A simple enough foundation to riff from. As nobody had yet asked, he still had time to figure out why a hermit would end up traveling with the archmage.

It took a week for them to reach Alterac, almost a week longer than if Vasyrgos had simply flown there. He shouldn’t complain too much though, the drawn out trip had been interesting.

The human villagers they passed were wary, but also wore a resignation that was similar to wounded prey animals. From what Korialstrasz had briefed, the Alteraci were still coming to terms with the fact that their former king had betrayed the Alliance and aligned them to the Horde during the Second War, forcing sons and fathers to fight with the savage invaders against the neighboring realms. It led to the unsurprising retaliation from the Alliance, and the Alteraci, natives of the mountainous region, were treated as no better than the orcish Horde that they aided.

Vasyrgos could understand the Alliance’s harshness; he’d heard stories about the horrific fall and betrayal of the Aspect that now took the name of Deathwing. Judged purely from intentions, the late King Aiden’s betrayal was arguably far worse than Neltharion’s.

According to the dragons who’d survived that cataclysm (of which there were a depressingly few from the blue flight), the former Aspect of the Earth had gone mad from corruption. He’d expertly hid it from the other flights, and his own spawn had shared in or embraced his madness.

On the other hand, Aiden had made a conscious, cowardly decision to forsake his fellow humans to preserve his own lands. Rather than fight with them towards victory, he stepped aside and then dragged his people to directly aid the rampaging enemy in hopes of hastening his former allies’ defeat and securing himself peace as a subject of the Horde.

Such repugnance had spread to taint Aiden’s subjects, though it seemed that the hostility the Alliance held towards Alteraci had softened a bit over the years. They were still distrusted, but now their merchants could leave the mountainous kingdom with only the risk of persecution rather than being lynched on sight.

That also meant that the Alliance garrison that occupied Alterac moved with all the wariness of conquerors in a hostile land. Vasyrgos’ ears had picked up the warning from patrols warning the carriage away from local taverns, and instead stop at the nearest guard post or barracks.

The first encounter an Alliance patrol had with Kyle was also rather telling. The guards manning a guard post had glared at the boy for a moment when they’d stopped for the evening.

“You’re the bastard, then?” the sergeant, a gruff man bearing the heraldry of Lordaeron, had impolitely inquired.

Before Krasus’ companions reacted, Kyle had simply nodded. “I am, for better or worse.” He was most definitely shaken by the hostility, but admirably the boy stood defiant against it.

The sergeant sneered, though his mocking voice sounded pathetic in Vasyrgos’ opinion. “Heh. Got your work cut out for ya in this shithole, your highness.”

Kyle shrugged. “I know. But I’ve got no choice in the matter, so…yeah. Blame the last king for taking liberties with my mom.” Vasyrgos was surprised to finally hear some heat in the student’s voice. “Coward didn’t even have the balls to face what he did, and instead kicked her out the moment he remembered the consequences of following his wandering dick. And now I’m dragged here because the twat’s seed wasn’t as cowardly as the rest of him.”

That got some of the occupying soldiers to snort and chuckle.

The sergeant paused for a second before his stance softened noticeably. “Yeah, bastard nobles sometimes…” He quickly glanced at the other members of the traveling party. “Present company excluded, of course.” The glare on Kyle was less intense this time before the man nodded. “Your mum’s doing fine?”

“Oh yeah. She had to scrape by in Lordaeron while she had me, living as a vagrant for a bit before she got herself a husband. Now that I know where I’m from, I’m surprised she let me live past my first breath, to be honest.”

The chuckles from the guards were far more muted and definitely more nervous this time, and their hostility was displaced with something approaching sympathy. “Tough lady,” the sergeant finally said.

Kyle nodded, wearing a soft smile. “Good mother.”

“Hn. Hope you take after her instead of your shitstain father, then.”

“Me too.”

The guards left them alone after that.

“Well done,” the elf, Halion, has quietly remarked with some approval. “And without any persuasion spells too. You’ve got a talent for diplomacy.”

“I didn’t think it’d work as well as it did.”

Metal squeaked softly as Lora shrugged and her pauldrons shifted. “Eh, soldiers like that are all about bluster.” She sounded far less…rugged than what Vasyrgos had imagined. “They were looking for a fight, but you threw ‘em off saying what you did.”

The encounters after that were not as eventful, and after passing several downtrodden villages and towns - many of which were barely half-inhabited - they eventually reached Alterac City. Banners of the Alliance and its various human member states hung proudly over the city’s still-broken walls, and most buildings within wore fresh patches of brick and planks to fix the damage done during the Alliance’s siege and subsequent conquest. The city’s inhabitants moved about furtively, shrinking away from the armored patrols.

It was a rather depressing sight, reminding Vasyrgos of a rat’s nest he’d cultivated and used for experimentation decades ago.

They disembarked at the foot of the palace, where four overly proud humans stood in the middle of a score or so of guards. There was barely any respect radiating off them as their gaze rested on Kyle, and their disdain was poorly hidden.

“Welcome to Alterac, your highness,” the lone woman in the quartet greeted, her tone so coldly formal. “We, your council of regents, are at your service.”

“Um, thanks.”

Some more formal and more cordial greetings were exchanged with Pelton, Halion and Lora, but Krasus barely got a nod before they were escorted into the palace.

Despite the cold reception, Vasyrgos found himself admiring Alteraci architecture as he followed along. The plastered stone construction was reminiscent of the other human kingdoms, but there were some differences in the placement of the timber supports and windows. Being a colder, mountainous realm, there were more braziers and fire pits lying around than usual, and the windows all had shutters built into them.

The interior decor from the palace’s former ruler was mostly untouched, judging from the amount of items still bearing the Perenolde family crest. As they were led to the throne room, Vasyrgos noted how gaudily the gilded throne and the gold-threaded banner behind it stood out among the almost plain stonework around them. There were vast fireplaces instead of fire pits or braziers flanking the space just before the throne, and above them hung several wooden chandeliers.

Draconic eyesight picked up the thin layer of dust all around the chamber, and Vasyrgos idly wondered if Aiden Perenolde was so reviled that the current occupants even found the thought of sitting on his throne abhorrent. Did they treat his bed and favorite seat in the same manner?

Presently, a man in a long coat in the style of Gilneas wheeled about and gruffly addressed Kyle. “Right then your highness, would you like a tour of the palace or are there any other areas you’d like us to enlighten you to?”

Kyle gave Korialstrasz’s gnome agent a glance. “Master Quickgear?”

Pelton gave a cough and cleared his throat in a theatrical manner before stepping forward and conjuring a thick, yellowed scroll and unfurling it noisily. That the show spooked at least one of the regents was probably the point.

“Right then…” The gnomish mage looked over his shoulder to his elven and dwarven counterparts before returning his attention back to the scroll. “We, as interested parties within certain Alliance member kingdoms, have taken notice of the curious experiment here in Alterac. Particularly with the rather unorthodox appointment of Kyle Daelam, and the institution of this method of regency.” Pelton paused to clear his throat again, sneaking a glance to the four representatives who remained stonily silent.

“Through some minor correspondence, and a little bit of fortune, we’ve decided to travel with the appointed heir to Alterac to sate our curiosity about this novel implementation of a shared stewardship. While our respective employers do not begrudge the human kingdoms their exclusivity in managing Alterac, we’d like to study this model for potential implementation in the future.”

The gnome paused once more, this time to shrug at the quartet. “You never know, maybe the trolls might get the boot.”

“Of course,” the Gilnean regent, Lommath, muttered with poorly masked bitterness.

Pelton went back to his scroll. “So. After some discussion on the way here, we’ve come up with an itinerary of areas we’d like to observe and/or review. Ideally, we’d like to note down the inner workings of cooperation and coordination in a complex task like this, so that we may draft proposals to present to our respective lieges for future consideration.” Pelton finished by flashing a smile about half as long as he was tall up at his audience. “We will, of course, be sure to credit you honorable councilors in our proposals…”

Halion stepped in with the usual elven grace. “It would also be the perfect opportunity to impress Kyle Daelam of how, through close cooperation between Alliance members, the realm he will inherit is tended to efficiently and effectively. ”

Behind the gnome, elf and smirking dwarf, Krasus stood solemn and quiet, but Vasyrgos could feel the subtle smugness radiating off the disguised red dragon as his secondaries began talking the regents ragged.