Business As Usual

The door banged opened as Lord Horace Whitevale forced his way past the portal, scattering the servants who had been in the entryway with a flailing, golden-handled cane. "Step aside at once! I'll see her here and now!"

The aging lord was on a rampage, not even bothering to take off his cloak as he stormed past the flustered servants. Ahead of him, an equally old and well dressed man attempted to step into his path, his arms spread wide and an almost apologetic look on his face as he opened his mouth to speak. Lord Whitevale would have none of it however, brushing by the Steward of House Aldridge as if he were not even there.

"My Lord, she's taking her morning tea and hasn't scheduled any appointments for the da-" the Steward began, his voice carefully measured so as not to offend. He didn't get to finish though as Lord Whitevale stormed down the corridor ahead at full speed, replying over his shoulder.

"She'll see me immediately dammit! I'll not be made to look a fool!" Whitevale yelled.

"Indeed not..." the Steward said in a low voice before hurrying after the furious lord. He sighed once, knowing it was going to be one of 'those' kind of days.

*************************************

The door to the small dining parlor burst open, startling the occupant of the room as Lord Whitevale entered in a fury. Behind him, House Aldridge servants bustled about, attempting to look busy so as to avoid any part of what was unfolding in the private chambers of House Aldridge's heir.

Lord Whitevale paused after taking ten steps into the room, his poor eyesight quickly taking in the lushly appointed private dining area with its elegant hardwood table, twin chairs, and set of delicious looking cookies piled on a silver platter in the center almost as a decoration.

Beyond the lush carpeted floor and hanging paintings of lords and ladies of bygone years, sunlight streamed into the room from a large sun window set into the far wall. There, sitting comfortably across the natural bench that the window provided, sat Lady Brithany Aldridge, looking rather startled with a book laying open in her lap. Lord Whitevale could tell just from a glance at the pages that it was some arcane nonsense as the words seemed to crawl across the paper if he looked too closely, giving him an immediate headache.

"How dare you!" he began diplomatically. "And here I thought that our agreement would hold for at least a few more months!"

The red-headed woman sitting near the window blinked once, her green eyes wide as she replied, "My Lord Whitevale, what an...unexpected surprise. Please, do calm yourself and take a breath before explaining to me exactly what causes you such distress."

The words, while spoken politely, hinted at the woman's displeasure at Lord Whitevale's sudden arrival. This pleased him immensely given his mood, and he practically growled at the woman as he strode further into the room. "Do not pretend ignorance with me, Lady Aldridge. Our families have been conducting business together since before you were a glint in your father's eye. You have taken funds from our mutual trust and invested them in a weapon-producing smithy without my permission or knowledge!"

Brithany nodded, carefully marking her place in the tome she'd been reading before closing it and setting it aside on the bench. She shifted, rising and adjusting her skirts so that the elegant green dress fell smoothly around her legs, complimenting her fiery red hair. "My Lord, let me first say that I appreciate your concerns, but I must tell you that they are unfounded. The smithy which we now own has secured contracts with Stormwind's military for the next three years for weapons and repair services. Not only will this investment grow the trust we share, but we will be serving Stormwind's armed forces in the process; something that is dear to my heart and interests."

Lord Whitevale slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the platter of cookies as he glared daggers at the woman, "Investing in military arms after the Horde has been defeated at Orgrimmar! What need have we of arms when their Warchief has been deposed you foolish little tart!"

Brithany straightened, her own face now a mask of tightly controlled rage. Ignoring his insult, she spoke calmly, her tone firm, "For how long, Lord? For how long will the beasts remain at bay? Until the next orc decides that the Horde should be run as he sees fit? Until the Forsaken decide that they need fresh corpses to expand their empire? Or perhaps when the blood elves decide that we of Stormwind should not be practicing the magic that they so jealously guard? For how long will peace hold until we once again wallow in sorrow after too late realizing they are still a threat to us all?"

"That is the king's responsibility to worry after!" Lord Whitevale shouted, furious. "He has seen fit to end the fighting in our enemy's capital. Who are you to decide that war will go on?! Who are you to invest my coin in an industry that will see only decline over the next few years?! You will ruin both our Houses!"

This time when Brithany responded, her voice had a hint of fire in it and there was a look in her eyes that gave Lord Whitevale pause, "I am the Lady Brithany Aldridge, heir of House Aldridge and majority holder of the funds in that trust, my Lord. You would do well to remember that with my father's untimely demise, it is I and I alone who will decide how those investments are made. If you wish to see your funds removed from the trust, you will pay the fees to me that you are contractually required to pay, plus interest for early termination of our agreement, my Lord. I would think very carefully about what you wish to say next."

For a moment, silence reigned in the room as Lord Whitevale studied the young woman. Easily thirty or more years her superior, there was something in her that hinted that she was more than the small slip of a woman she appeared to be. He could see a passion within her, likely the same passion that had first attracted his only son to court her and then later caused him to withdraw from the Lady's affections. Even so, the young upstart had to be put in her place.

"And you would do well to take care how you speak to me, my Lady. House Whitevale is not to be trifled with, and if our funds are lost there will be a reckoning between us," Lord Whitevale said ominously. "You are not in such a strong position that you are unassailable, Lady Aldridge."

Brithany looked at the man standing across from her, her face now clearly showing her coming ire like a storm in the distance, "Then assail me, Lord Whitevale. I seriously doubt you will enjoy the consequences or brag about such to your peers."

Being threatened by what was essentially a girl who had just passed her legal name-day made Lord Whitevale quiver with rage. His hand naturally slipped towards the top of his cane where he secretly kept a dueling sword concealed, "You dare to-"

Brithany had seen the movement of his hand and in a moment she stepped forward, arcane energies blazing to life in the air around her. One of her hands lashed out and an ornate vase to Lord Whitevale's right exploded, sending fragments of broken glass across the carpeted floor, "Our audience is at an end, Lord Whitevale. I will take your words into consideration when next I consider our mutual business. Remove yourself from my estate. Now."

Lord Whitevale had paled at the demonstration of Brithany's power, coming to realize just how close his temper had brought him to engaging in what would likely be a deadly duel with the young woman. The fact that he had even been considering assaulting a Lady combined with the fear he felt in his gut made him flush with embarrassment. He quickly turned, releasing his grip on the top of his cane as he hurried from the room with as much dignity as he could possibly save. Behind him a gaggle of servants stood in the corridor beyond, all of them suddenly extremely busy cleaning things in the hallway that didn't look all that dirty. None of them with even a hint of a smirk on their faces as the furious lord stormed past and headed for the estate's main entryway.

Once the huffing old man had left, the Steward entered the room, bowing before Brithany, "I apologize, my Lady. He pushed his way in here in a most uncouth manner. I will have guards added to the foyer to prevent such disturbances in the future."

Brithany smiled and waved a hand at her servant, shaking her head, "Do not apologize, Walter. It's not your fault that his is a blustering old fool who cannot see the future that is plainly spelled out before us."

She turned, looking out the window for a moment and speaking over his shoulder, "He is wrong about the Horde. They will come for us again and again until they are destroyed. Until every last orc, blood elf, and whatever else is disarmed. His bluster will only last as long as it takes for the first profits to reach his coffers, and then suddenly he will be smitten with me I am sure."

The Steward bowed, "And with good reason, my Lady. Will you be needing anything else?"

Brithany turned and smiled at her servant. Walter had served her family since she was a baby, working first for her parents and now for her. Loyalty such as his was impossible to purchase and worth more than its weight in gold. Her voice was soft when she spoke with him, "No thank you, Walter. I think I will return to my studies; they may be difficult at times but at least the pages do not typically tend to shout at me."

"As you wish, Lady Aldridge," the Steward said before bowing once again and leaving, closing the door behind him.

Alone in the room, Brithany stared at the shattered vase, the broken pieces a pointed reminder of the shattered life that the Horde had left her. She waved her hand, her magic curling around the glass and picking it up, setting each piece back in place on the table where the vase had sat, sealing them back together. Like the vase, she would pick up the shattered pieces of her life and make things whole once more. Even if no one else believed in her causes, she would see them through to the end. The fate of her people might one day rest on her dedication to such duties.

With that, she turned, heading back towards her alcove and the magical text that called to her. 

Protectors of the Realm

The blood elf sat nervously picking at a chip on the surface of the old table, the chair he was sitting in having seen better days with its upholstered surfaces torn and frayed. The small room in the tavern at Booty Bay was lit by only a single candle, the guttering flame casting harsh shadows across the wooden walls and briefly highlighting the tattered paintings that were supposed to give the room 'character' now and again.

The door to the room opened softly, the low sound almost enough to make the blood elf dart up out of his seat, his fel green eyes studying the newcomer closely. To hide his discomfort, he shifted in place, adjusting his red and golden robes and moving one of his pouches of spell components slightly, keeping it in easy reach.

The newcomer, a human male that was getting on in years, held up his hands with his palms outward as a sign of peace, a bleak smile hiding beneath his long gray beard as he walked over to the table and sat down. The blood elf dipped his head once in acknowledgement of the newcomer, gesturing to an unopened bottle of wine and two glasses nearby.

"No, thank you," the old man said. "I feel it best to conduct our business quickly and without any muddy-headedness that such swill might bring. We are in a goblin run town after all."

The blood elf nodded, no smile passing across his own face as he replied, "As you wish; I'd as soon be done with our business as well. It is a shame that times are different and we are forced to hide in such hovels."

The old man nodded, his face dour now, "It is indeed dark days for those who once lived in Dalaran. That old colleagues must meet in secrecy is a crime against the Art itself I think. Regardless, we still live and can continue our work. We simply must do so in...unfortunate settings. I have brought the artifact that we discussed. You can take it to your own laboratory and we'll compare notes once you have analyzed it yourself. I feel confident that our temporal shielding spells are far superior to those now in existence."

The blood elf nodded and a brief smile passed across his lips, "Let's see it. I'm eager to continue my work, regardless of the fact that the Sunreavers are no longer welcome amongst the others. We will prove that we can still do some good with our studies."

The old man nodded, reaching into a belt pouch and removing a small necklace with an amulet attached to it. The magical artifact glowed dimly in the darkness of the tavern room, and the blood elf leaned over it, studying it thoughtfully, his long blonde hair falling around his face.

Just as he reached for it, a sizzling sound began to grow in the room. Starting as a low hiss, it rose in volume, attracting the eyes of both human and blood elf to the closed door. There, strange blue lights began to flicker around the edges of the portal, the hissing and popping noises increasing.

"You warded the door as we agreed, yes?" the old man murmured in concern.

"Just as we discussed. Only the pass-coin I gave you would allow anyone to pass through the doorframe while we are both in here. Someone is trying to deactivate my wards," the blood elf replied.

The old man opened his mouth to reply when the light around the door blazed brightly once and the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall with a great deal of force. A figure moved in the doorway, and both human and blood elf rose as it advanced into the room, the blood elf pulling out a wand menacingly.

The person, for it was a human woman, advanced through the doorway, a hand reaching out and manicured nails digging into the wood of the door as she forcefully slammed it behind her, sealing the portal once more. The candle nearly went out from the wind of the door's closing, weird shadows dancing around the room as the woman stared at the two.

Red hair framed a face that was lightly tanned from the sun, the locks artfully arranged in one of the latest styles seen in the House of Nobles in Stormwind. Green eyes studied the two figures, ruby red lips curled into a smile as she observed the damning evidence of the amulet that still rested on the table between them.

"And so it comes to this; where once there was loyalty to magic and all it could produce, now there is treachery with those who have proven themselves time and again to be incapable of handling magic with any degree of safety," the woman intoned harshly.

"Brithany..." the old man whispered. "B-but how did you track me here? W-why..?"

"I have suspected you for some time, Master," the woman replied, the smile leaving her face now. "Did you think that I would fail to notice your sudden disappearances? Your late-evening appointments that you didn't think to notify me about? Do you think the others have not seen, do not know? We are learned men and women; you cannot fool us easily or, in this case, at all. And here I find you, engaged in treachery."

The old man's face grew stern as he stood before the young woman. Although she was fully trained and a mage in her own right, she was in her early twenties and brash as they came at that age, especially given her noble bloodline. "There was a time when conferring with our brethren amongst the Sunreavers was not something that would be called 'treachery', and I do not believe that you've the right to judge me as it is; you left my service last year so my business is none of yours."

The woman smiled, the expression devoid of all humor as she studied the older man, "When you engage in activities that could threaten the realm, it becomes my business. The Sunreavers are criminals who aided in genocide. To parlay with them is to incriminate yourself. You will surrender to me and be taken before the House of Nobles where they can see the facts and evidence and judge your guilt or innocence."

"I will do no such thing. You will leave this place, Brithany, and allow us to conclude our business," the old man said sternly. "You have no authority here."

The red-haired woman frowned, her eyes wide now and staring, as if madness gripped her, "I was not asking you. Last chance, Master."

Tension built in the room, as the three squared off, the two humans staring at each other and the blood elf aiming his wand. In a fraction of a second, the peace was shattered as the woman moved her hands outward abruptly, causing the blood elf to discharge his wand.

Bolts of magic flew across the space between elf and human, magic flaring to life around her as wards sewn into her expensive looking dress flickered into existence. The magic bolts were absorbed and their energy forced down into the floor, burning the wood around her feet. Her own spell lashed out, a blast of arcane energies slamming into the old man and throwing him backwards. His own wards flared to life and absorbed much of the spell, but the force of the blast threw him over his chair, slamming his back into the floor and forcing the breath from his lungs.

The blood elf moved to fire his wand again, but the woman was faster, a second spell slashing out and striking the weapon. The wand detonated in the elf's hands, the blast mangling his fingers and arm and causing him to drop to the floor, howling in pain.

Gasping, the old man struggled to untangle himself from the chair, his vision blurry from the forceful impact with the furniture and then the floor. He heard a noise and squinted, his eyesight coming back into focus on a pair of designer shoes, the hem of a red dress hanging just above them and a golden ankle bracelet glinting in the dim light. He looked up, and Brithany stared down at him, cold fury in her eyes.

"Those who betray Stormwind betray the King and all he protects. You betray humanity itself, Master. Your time has come to an end," Brithany stated, her voice flat. "Go to the afterlife, where relics of the past must rest."

Her hand came up and bolt of arcane magic struck the man in the chest, killing him instantly. Brithany stepped over him, circling the table, her manicured nails dragging ominously across the table's surface as she loomed over the wounded elf. He looked up at her from where he had fallen on the floor, his mangled arm bleeding profusely.

"You'll never get away with this madness! You cannot just slay two mages in the middle of the town like this! Your own people will execute you when they find out!" the blood elf yelled at her.

The woman smiled, bending low so she could examine the wounded elf's arm. Her tone was almost cheerful now as she replied, "And yet, I did nothing wrong. I am home at my estate, about to have my afternoon tea even now. I do wonder why you had to go and kill my Master however. Typical evil behavior from one of your kind, and not at all unexpected. He should have known better than to deal with you and yours."

With that she brought her hand up again, another bolt of magic flaring to life in the room. The blood elf's corpse thudded against the ground lifelessly, and she stepped over him, her hand reaching out to grab the amulet that had sat between the two.

She held it up, studying it for a moment before slipping it into a pouch, her gaze returning to the two fallen mages in the dim room. "And so now you know the price for treachery. What the blood elves did will never be forgotten, never be forgiven for as long as I draw breath. I will kill every last one of them if need be, until they can wield magic no longer, until they cry out for mercy. Rest well, Master, and know that the skills you taught me as a child will be put to use for justice."

With that, the red haired woman reached out and snuffed out the candle between two fingers, her heels thudding on the floor as she casually strolled out of the room. Behind her in the darkness she left a familiar crime scene in a place like Booty Bay; two mages with a deal gone bad had killed each other, and the goblin pirates would care not a wit as they looted the corpses and dumped them in the ocean.

Such were the things Brithany had to do for her people, to keep them safe from themselves.