Alford screams his lungs out. The rebels managed to make him look like a fool, in a moment that should be his. Suddenly realizing he's still in public, he mentally chastises himself - he shouldn't lose control like this.

Alford: *trying to reagain his calm demeanour* Sherman, get a cavalry regiment and go after those pagan wretches. Call the nearest witch hunter chapter to help you with that sorcerer of theirs - they should know how to counteract his foul magics. You are allowed to kill them all, but I want you to bring back Canbrad's head and show it to populace, as an example and to ease their hearts.

Sherman: But what about this other scum? *points at the unconscious Krowl*

Alford: The execution will go on. I won't let them mark this day as a victory for their side. I believe Captain de Mon and his guards are enough to oversee the procedure.

Sherman: *hungering for retribution* At once, my king! *bows and hastily leaves towards the stables, yelling for his men to follow*


The city square is filled with people once more, though not nearly as many as before. The remaining ones look weary, afraid that something might endanger their lives again. The guards look especially unnerved as well, their eyes constantly shifting.

Atop the stand, their look is replicated on Krowl's face. Alford and Thomassy stand by as well, stern and vigilant. A second executioner makes the rebel leader kneel and closes the guillotine around his neck, facing very little resistance from him.

Alford walks closer to the edge of the stand, drawing attention from his people.

Alford: Lordaeronians! My people, my countrymen! This man here, kneeling before you, is Maximus Krowl, leader of the movement known as the People's Front. For years, him and his followers have attacked our villages, killed our soldiers and seeded doubt in your hearts. Today, that would end. I thought the death of their leader would be enough to disband the Front, to spare a king from having to kill his own people.

But blood was shed here today. Blood of your kinsmen, who pledge their lives to defend you and the land you call home. The rebels could not allow their mad dream to be taken from them. So they came here, to turn this day into a victory for them - the day they attacked Lordaeron City itself.

I will not give them that pleasure. I have to defend you, my people. Yes, for you, the true patriots, not them, are my people. You who support what Lordaeron stands for and whose resolution shines brightly in these dark days. My heart is resolute as well - the rebels will pay for hurting my people, who are as if my own flesh and blood.

I will make them tremble. Their legs will tell them to run at the bare mention of my name. This will be an example to all of them. This day will not be theirs. THIS DAY BELONGS TO LORDAERON!

And as a silvery gust of wind passes through the square, the blade of the guillotine descends. Krowl's head falls neatly into the basket under it, the small thump it makes cutting through the silence.

A moment passes.

Another one as well.

A fist rises among the crowd.

"Long live King Alford! ALL HAIL LORDAERON!!!"

The rest of the crowd soon joins, echoing those two hearfelt cries, trying to make the whole Azeroth pay notice to their unbreakable spirit.


Thomassy: Despite the... interference, all went as planned, milord. I dare say it even made the people support you more.

Alford: Perhaps, Court Wizard, perhaps. But for now, we should focus on the meeting at Fenris Isle. That is where I will be able to see on whose side the other monarchs stand.

Krowl: And who the one to hand his crown to me will be.

The three are within one of the palace's many guest rooms, one the servants and guards think unoccupied at the moment and far enough from the main corridors for it not to regularly passed by. The former rebel speaks with a glimmer in his eyes, already imagining the tales to be written about his reign.

Krowl: *to Thomassy* I was surprised to see all of this worked so well. I actually got worried that blade would chop my head off. It's good to see I have allied with capable people.

Thomassy: *looking offended, but letting pride fill his face* I didn't become Court Wizard by enchanting brooms, Krowl.

Alford: Enough chitter-chatter for now. I have more pressing matters to attend to. Do not worry Krowl, I will keep up to my end of the bargain. During my absense, Thomassy will visit you regularly to provide you with food. Endure these iddle times, and you'll feel the weighth of a crown.

Court Wizard, let us depart. And inform the Archbishop that I want to hear what him and his witch hunters have been up to.

As the two men close the door behind themselves, Thomassy slightly flicks his wrist, locking the door behind them.

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