Expedition

Four Months Ago...
"Have we truely forgotten about the problems in our own lands, your majesty? Before we begin making plans for our invasion of Northrend we must sercure our own borders. The Scourge crawl from one side, and the Alliance from the other. With the Scarlet Crusade an ever persistant thorn in our side..." said Bethor Iceshard,

"Cut the head of the snake, and the body dies. Any other area but Northrend is only a tempoary solution to the defeat of the Scourge. Our plagues have shown devestating effects against the lesser Scourge already, it could easily erase any foothold they hold on the shores of that forgotten contenant." countered Master Apothecary Faranell,

"My regiments are more then enough to hold the Scourge off of Tiristfal, you need not worry of them comming to our homeland with me in those forests. We've secured most roads, so much so that Sin'Dori and Forsaken travelers have had to use more unconvential means of transportation less and less." added Nathanos Blightcaller,

"Good. We shall merge High Executor Hadrec's army with yours, Nathanos. You will be given full command of this, but yet this still leaves us with the question of who shall begin our expansion into Northrend." said Queen Slyvanas, glancing around the Royal Quarter at her most trusted advisors and generals.

"If I may recomend myself I would be happy to volunteer myself for such an Expedition." said Bellmont, raising his hand.

"Are you not currently involved on pulling the chain of that Orc and his warband?" inquired High Apothecary Faranell,

"Gorfrunch is dead... I think. The assault on Ironforge went disasterous. Most of the Grin has fleed in fear of their lives, and those who don't face inevitable death at the hands of constant attacks from the Alliance." answered Bellmont,

"Very well. You will be granted four regiments and one of our fleets. As well as the presence of Varimathras." proclaimed Slyvanas, ending the meeting. The various other commanders bowed and began to dispurse.

Queen Slyvanas turned to Varimathras,
"I will also order you to occasionally monitor High Executor Bellmont's progress, Varimathras." ordered Queen Slyvanas,

"Very well... I shall turn my attention to the Northrend Expedition on a time table of two times per week, begining when the Undercity receives it's first message of your arrival. If there is no response in ten weeks upon depature you and your regiments will be presumed dead." said Varimathras,

"Understood, as to my regiments, your majesty?" asked Bellmont,

"Yes," Queen Slyvanas motioned to Royal Overseer Bauhaus, who opened a large ledger and began to read aloud.

"The 133st of the Deathguards, the 322nd of the Artillary Division, the 105th of the Deathstalkers and the 1st Lordaeron Guard. As well as a brigade of our Naval Deathstalkers, to act as Marines in case of any naval warfare that may occur." said Royal Overseer Bauhaus,

"The 1st Lordaeron Guard? I am to be given members of the Imperial Guard for my Expedition." asked Bellmont, in some degree of disbelief.

"You underestimate the importance of your task, High Executor Bellmont. Royal Overseer Bauhaus, if you would please list the present commanders of said divisions so that Bellmont may rally his army and move in a timely fashion?" demanded Queen Slyvanas,

"Oh, yes, pardon my foolishness. Of the 133st Commander Louis Philips, of the 105th Deathstalker Mortis, of the 322nd Artillary Divison Deathmaster Dwire, and the 1st Lordaeron Guard will act as your personal Guard and regiment." explained Royal Overseer Bauhaus.

"Couriers will be sent with this information immediatly, Bellmont. You will leave for Northrend in two day's time. You will be given two bats as to send one rider back to inform us of your landing." ordered Queen Slyvanas,

"Understood, your majesty. I go now to make my preperations." said Bellmont, bowing and leaving the Royal Quarters.

(To be continued)

Four Months Ago,
Lordaeron
Forsaken Naval Command
12:00pm, Midnight

"You bastard... you have some gull comming down here again. I thanked the Light for every day I never saw your sorry hide, you cowardly little bastard." hissed the Forsaken Marine Captain, his heavy armor causing the wood of the docks to creek as he marched toward Bellmont, each footstep hitting harder with anger and disgust.

Bellmont tilted his head in confusion, standing his ground and slowly moving his hand to the hilt of his longsword as the Captain approached.

"We'll I'm going to end this once and for all!" roared the Captain as he lunged at Bellmont, who quickly moved for his sword but suddenly stopped as the Captain embraced him and swung him around while letting out some joyful laughter.

After being put down Bellmont opened his mouth as if to speak, but words refused to come. He had never been so baffled in his life.

"HAHAHA! I tricked you there didn't I, Neven? You always had a bad memory, I thought you'd always be in fear of running into someone you accidently insipired a vendetta in." said the Marine Captain laughing, stopping after Bellmont's confused stare did not fade.

"Ah, the helmet threw you off didn't it?" said the Marine Captain, removing the helmet to show his face.

Bellmont stared a bit, the face indeed rang a bell but it had been from times long past and had been distorted a bit no doubt by age, undeath and war.

Finally a name came to him,

"Cyrus?" he inquired, tilting his head.

The armor-clad Forsaken Marine commander nodded gleefully.

"Ah, so you do remember me. Glade to see I wasn't forgotten by you. I haven't seen you since the Second War." said Cyrus Pennarious, sitting down on a box of supplies,

"Well good to know I'm in good hands once again. Fate is bizare... it seems only yesterday that we where in almost the exact same position." said Bellmont, taking a seat on another adjacent supply box,

"To some degree, my old friend. Only back then I believe I was the higher officer." said Cyrus saluting Bellmont in respect of his high status among the Forsaken,

"Well that... and the Orcs are on our side, and we're warring against a Mentheil." added Bellmont,

"But young lads where we then, but now look at us. To seasoned veterans, older men who've been shapen by a lifetime of warfare. Yet somehow to old comrades come together again, strange isn't it?" asked Cyrus looking up at the night's sky as if to find an answer,

"Fate is ironic, cruel, and never fare to all sides. But we still fight for our countery, for our survival, for our freedom." said Bellmont, attempting to answer Cyrus question,

"I supose so. Though personally I've always found the name Forsaken a bit distasteful." said Cyrus with a bit of humor in his voice,

"Well, what can I say. At the time it made sense. And no one really wants to question someone who just led you back into your capital." said Bellmont,

"Ah I wish I'd been there for that." said Cyrus, opening the supply crate he'd been sitting on and pulling out a flask of ale drinking it casually,

"It was quite the bloody afair. Though some of the Humans who we told to leave where angery, I have to say the majority of them where so delighted that bastard Garithros was dead I thought they would have tried to join us." said Bellmont laughing a bit in rememberance,

"Eh, at that time I was off freezing my arse off in Northrend." said Cyrus,

"Really? What in the Light's name had you off there in such a time?" asked Bellmont,

"That bastard Arthas Mentheil. We came there and claimed Frostmourne, we saw the differnce in him. Maybe if we'd been more silent and played loyal we could have returned home, could have stopped it, prevented all of this." said Cyrus spitting as he finished his sentence, as if speaking the memory gave a horrid taste to his mouth,

"Don't blame yourself, Cyrus. We all share the guilt." said Bellmont,

"Eh... I supose. I'm just glade I found the Forsaken. You can't imagine the isolation, waking up on a ship one day with a handful of your crew in the middle of the bloody ocean. No clue where you are or what happened." said Cyrus with a shrug,

"Well either way it's good to have you on our side. In time I supose things will return to normal." said Bellmont.

The two old friends stood up to adress an Imperial Guardsman who had approached them,

"High Executor Bellmont, the ships are ready as are the men. We're ready to begin boarding on your command." reported the Imperial Guardsman.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Begin doing so, inform me when all ships are full and we're ready to leave the dock." ordered Bellmont, the Imperial Guardsman bowing and marching off to check the status of their progress.

"Well it was good talking to you again, Cyrus. I'll see you again at sea, until then stay vigiliant." said Bellmont, bowing.

"Aye, luck General." said Cyrus, saluting and making his way to the end of the dock.

Four Months Ago
Northern Sea
Deck of 'The Queen's Grace'
3:21pm
"I can hardly imagine how you put up with this before undeath, Cyrus." said Bellmont with a shiver as another blast of icey wind swept the surface of the Northen Sea like a blade.

Cyrus shrugged, still seemingly impervious to the freezing weather and icey wind despite the icycles that had formed on his armor.

"More resistance to such weaknesses as hunger, fatigue, temperature and sufication are indeed unlife's little bonuses. Though personally I'd trade them for the ability to seduce a Blood Elf wench without getting horrified looks first." commented Cyrus, as he turned his head toward Bellmont.

"Not that'd you have any problems with that now sir." added Cyrus with an overdoce of sarcasm in his tone.

"Attempting to suck-up to a higher-ranking officer?" asked Bellmont,

"No. I'd just assumed you'd crack them over the head with the hilt of your blade and knock them unconcious as you seem to be so fond of doing to the enemy." replied Cyrus with a chuckle.

Bellmont laughed a bit himself despite himself, then immediatly changed his tone to a more serious one as a few other soldiers started to pass by.

"Captain Pennarious, do you have a report as to our current location." demanded Bellmont,

Catching on quickly via Bellmont's tone, Cyrus quickly straightend his posture and altered his voice as well.

"Northrend should be visible within the our, General. The fleet and men have been told of this and will be ready to land as soon as possible."

Bellmont nodded and began to walk.

"We best prepare ourselves. Get all the supplies at the ready, but stay vigiliant. We have no knowledge of any naval defenses the Scourge may have." said Bellmont.

Cyrus let forth a sharp whistle, a hunched over little Forsaken scurrying from the shadows up to Cyrus and Bellmont.

"Navigational Officer Einreik, if you may please give a more estimated amount of ti-" Cyrus was interupted mid-way through his statement,

"Fourtey seven seconds." the Forsaken responded in a hoarse voice that gave creediance to the idea that this man seldom used his voice.

((To be continued))

"We both fired our rifles, and missed. It was then we knew what would have to happen. The two of us ran at eachother, and I shoved a blade into his kneck. It was then I felt very ashamed of myself. The first time I realized that wars have multiple perspectives.

That man... who knows. Perhaps he had children, perhaps he was a man just like me. He might have held no personal hate to the Forsaken, might have been poor and needed money. And now he's dead.

No candle light vigil or church bells, only his last cry in the dimming of his eyes. When we fought the Orcs we were fighting for survivial, when we fought the demons we were slaughtering incarnations of evil, and when we fought the Scourge we fought corpses.

But when I fight Stormwind... former friends, family, neighbors.... I ask why. What is it's purpose? Are we so nieve that we cannot set aside most peity of differences? Or has blood feuds from long forgotten conflicts of our ancestors still act as kindling for the fires of our unquenchable bloodlust?

Perhaps it all really started with some bloak throwing a rock at someone who had a particuarly bad day, and now theres war. Endless war. Would it end? I've long since forgotten."

Bellmont closed Cyrus journal, somewhat shocked.

The message had hit a cord in him... indeed such long battles in him had made him forget the other soldiers where actually people too.

He had killed many that didn't deserve it. Farmers, peasants, scared milita. How many times had he seen young milita men, looking into their scared eyes knowing they'd gotten way over their head.

He could have let them go, could have been merciful. But he didn't. He killed them.
(To be continued)

The sudden thrash from the row boat hitting the freezing waters broke his thought.

Glancing around he noticed the ships deploying, more and more came from the battleships as they neared the soil of Daggercap Bay.

The rowboat touched down, and the entourage within the rowboat immediatly began setting up camp at a frantic pace. Several tens and firepits where already up by the time the other rowboats landed.

"Mi'lord" A Deathstalker approched him, bowing.

"Yes..." Bellmont scanned his armor for some showing of his rank.

"Private, what do you ask of me?" replied Bellmont, spotting the sign of rank on the Deathstalker's soldier.

"A simple scoutting report. Commander Philips has landed on the other side of the bay, sir." said the Deathstalker.

"Very well, anything else of intrest?" asked Bellmont,

"Well yes, we've noticed buildings along the river. Originally we thought they we're of Arthas' Expedition, but they've been well kept." reported the Deathstalker.

"It is possible that a good number of the Expedition still lives. This place seems untouched by undeath and more furtile then the other areas. They could easily have carved out on this furtile peice of this rock." said Bellmont,

"Very well, your orders for Commander Philips?" inquired the Deathstalker,

"Fortify the beach and areas sorrunding. We'll need it for renforcements." commanded Bellmont,

The Deathstalker bowed and mounted a small, unarmored Vampiric Bat, flying across the small channel of water to the other side toward Commander Philip's camp.

"Let us begin to move toward the Keep, let us see if we've been granted good fortune or more traditonal opposition." roared Bellmont, the men begin mobilizing toward their group captains proper.