King Genn Greymane watched the scene unfold with a complex mix of emotions, his back teeth clenched with a hint of jealousy.
He couldn't help but steal glances at King Thoras Trollbane, his mind wrestling with a familiar parental pride and ambition. We both have sons, Thoras, he mused, a touch of bitterness lacing his thoughts. So why is your prince so extraordinarily outstanding?
In terms of sheer strength and martial prowess, Galen was undeniably the recognized number one among the younger generation, a warrior of unparalleled skill and courage. But his influence extended far beyond the battlefield. He had forged alliances and connections that spanned the breadth of Azeroth. Genn's gaze swept across the assembled representatives: the Night Elves, from the strongest tribe in Kalimdor, their ancient wisdom and connection to nature a force to be reckoned with; the Tauren, the mightiest warriors of the land, their strength and unwavering resolve a bulwark against the darkness; and most impressive of all, the dragons, creatures of immense power and ancient lineage, who now stood as allies, their presence a testament to Galen's extraordinary reputation!
Heavens! Genn thought, his heart filled with a mixture of awe and envy.
Those dragons, who had once soared through the skies, aloof and detached, looking down upon the mortal races with a sense of superiority, were now obediently seated at the back of the stands, their majestic forms radiating power and grace, quietly participating in a tournament organized by mortals!
And all of this, Genn knew, was a direct result of Galen's growing fame and influence!
A son should be like Galen! he mused, his thoughts drifting to his own son, Liam.
Genn glanced at King Llane Wrynn, seated on the opposite side of the platform, and a sense of realism washed over him. Comparing his own son to Galen, he realized, would be a futile exercise in self-inflicted humiliation. It would be far more reasonable, he conceded, to compare Liam to Varian Wrynn, the young and promising King of Stormwind!
After a brief exchange of greetings with the assembled dignitaries, Galen made his way to his father, King Thoras, and embraced him warmly. Thoras, in turn, looked upon his son with undisguised pride, his expression radiating paternal affection and admiration.
"It is almost time to begin, Grand Marshal!" Turalyon urged Galen, his voice filled with anticipation. He could sense the eagerness of the warriors gathered in the arena, their impatience growing with each passing moment.
Galen nodded, acknowledging the urgency of the situation. He prepared to preside over the opening ceremony, his presence a symbol of the Alliance's unity and determination.
Galen was clad in his magnificent Judgment Armor, a suit of holy plate imbued with powerful runes, personally enchanted by the Naaru themselves. These ancient runes amplified Galen's already formidable holy light abilities, enhancing his presence and making him appear even more radiant and holy. As Galen subtly activated the runes, a palpable surge of holy energy washed over the entire platform, raising the concentration of holy light to an unprecedented level, further solidifying Galen's aura of divine power.
"Welcome! Warriors of Azeroth!" Galen's sonorous voice, amplified not by magic but by sheer force of will, resonated throughout the arena, silencing the restless crowd and commanding their undivided attention.
"You stand here today as the elite warriors of Azeroth. You hail from the great kingdoms of the Alliance, and from the noble ranks of our allies in the Scarlet Crusade. Though we may belong to different nations and organizations, we are united by a common purpose, a shared goal!"
Galen paused, his gaze sweeping across the assembled warriors, his words carrying the weight of the Alliance's hopes and dreams.
"That goal... is to vanquish the Lich King and his vile undead army, to cleanse the stain of the Scourge from our world, and to usher in an era of peace and prosperity!"
"Here and now, within the hallowed grounds of the Scarlet Tournament, you will face the greatest test of your lives. Those who emerge victorious from this trial, those who prove their courage, their endurance, and their unwavering teamwork, will earn the right to join the ranks of the Northrend Expedition, and march alongside us to the very heart of the Scourge's power, the frozen citadel of Icecrown!"
Galen's voice swelled with passion, his words igniting a fire in the hearts of the assembled warriors.
"For this noble cause, I seek warriors! The Alliance needs true champions, warriors of unwavering faith and unmatched skill, to lead us to the final victory, to stand against the darkness and claim our rightful place as the defenders of Azeroth!"
"I have faith in you, warriors. I believe that you are the ones who will shoulder the burden of our future, who will carry the banner of hope and lead us to triumph!"
Galen's gaze intensified, his expression hardening as he turned to the challenges that lay ahead.
"The trials that await you will be brutal, unforgiving, and fraught with peril. You will face the horrors of Northrend, the terrifying creatures that lurk in the shadows, and the unrelenting onslaught of the Scourge. Only those who possess the strength, the resilience, and the unwavering courage to overcome these trials will be deemed worthy to join our ranks!"
Galen, thrust into the role of both leader and judge, drew upon every ounce of his charisma and battle experience, delivering a speech that resonated with the assembled warriors, igniting their fighting spirit and steeling their resolve.
As Galen spoke, he took a moment to survey the assembled contestants. He noted that there were a total of twenty teams gathered in the arena, each bearing the symbols of their respective nations and organizations. He recognized the banners of the seven human kingdoms, the elegant crests of the high elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas, and the intricate sigils of the ancient Nightborne city of Suramar.
He also saw the towering forms of the Tauren warriors, their massive frames radiating raw power and unwavering determination, and the graceful silhouettes of the Night Elven sentinels, their movements fluid and deadly. Galen even spotted a team of Scarlet Crusade zealots, their faces etched with righteous fervor, their faith an unyielding shield against the darkness!
"Ka... ka... ka... ka... ka..."
A series of low, guttural sounds, the ominous clanking of iron locks being pulled open, echoed through the arena, sending a shiver of anticipation and dread down the spines of the assembled warriors. The massive gates at the far end of the trial square began to creak open, revealing the horrors that awaited them!
"Now... let the trials... begin!" Galen declared, his voice booming across the arena, the words hanging heavy in the air, a signal for the commencement of the grueling tests that would determine the fate of the Northrend Expedition!
As Galen's words faded, the gates at the far end of the trial square swung fully open, and a chilling spectacle unfolded before the contestants. From the darkness beyond the gates, a dozen grotesque creatures emerged: colossal Northrend ice worms, their segmented bodies glistening with frost, and massive ice rhinos, their thick hides adorned with jagged spikes. With a guttural roar, the monstrous creatures launched a savage charge towards the participants of the trial, their eyes burning with primal hunger and bloodlust!
These beasts were all prey captured by the Alliance from various parts of Northrend, repurposed for this brutal trial. They served as a source of meat for the Alliance's daily meals, and now, they were weapons in this deadly competition. The weaker specimens were only at the third rank of power, posing a moderate threat, while the stronger rhino king boasted a formidable sixth rank.
Their primary purpose in this trial was not to provide sustenance, but to serve as a brutal filter, weeding out the weaklings from the various nations' teams, those who lacked the skill and coordination necessary to effectively fight outnumbered.
After all, the Alliance commanders knew that the undead Scourge favored overwhelming numbers, drowning their enemies in a seemingly endless tide of corpses. These wild animals from Northrend, with their sheer numbers and ferocity, were intended to simulate that terrifying experience, preparing the warriors for the horrors that awaited them in Icecrown.
The competition teams in the arena, initially relaxed and confident, were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the challenge. Their composure shifted rapidly, replaced by grim determination and focused intensity.
They had expected a challenging encounter, but the reality far exceeded their expectations. There were less than a hundred participants in their group, a small force facing a seemingly endless horde of beasts that continued to pour into the arena, their numbers already exceeding four digits and showing no signs of stopping!
Despite the chaos, Galen's keen eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for signs of exceptional skill and potential. His gaze was drawn to three Night Elves huddled in a corner, their movements fluid and coordinated. The leading female elf, her body shifting and contorting, transformed into a massive, powerful boar, her tusks gleaming menacingly. Her two companions followed suit, transforming into a sleek and agile owl beast, its eyes glowing with predatory intensity, and a small, sturdy treant, its wooden limbs creaking with ancient power!
This is undoubtedly the direct descendant team of Eldre'Thalas, Galen mused, recognizing the unique druidic abilities displayed by the Night Elves. The druids of the Malfurion lineage... shouldn't typically be able to transform into a boar form, should they?
Galen found their transformation intriguing. While the owl beast and treant forms were relatively common among Night Elf druids, the boar form was a rarer sight, typically associated with a different druidic tradition.
Galen continued his assessment of the teams. He noted that most of the three-person teams from the various Alliance nations followed predictable compositions: warrior-mage-priest, a balanced combination of offense, defense, and support; or warrior-hunter-priest, favoring physical damage and ranged attacks. However, among the teams from Lordaeron and Stromgarde, he observed several unconventional formations: three-knight teams, their heavy armor and unwavering resolve a formidable force; or teams with two knights and another damage dealer, sacrificing magical support for overwhelming physical power.
He also noted the absence of a particular class. Rogues, with their emphasis on stealth, subterfuge, and assassination, were not typically suited for direct confrontation on the battlefield. Their primary role lay in infiltration, reconnaissance, and eliminating high-value targets. As such, Galen observed that no rogues were participating in this trial, their skills deemed less valuable in a large-scale engagement.
Furthermore, Galen's influence extended to the shadows. He had maintained a firm grip on the warlock profession, largely through his control of the Shadow Council. Those unaffiliated warlocks, those who operated outside his watchful gaze, lived in constant fear of retribution. They would not dare to venture into a camp with over 100,000 Alliance troops stationed, knowing that their presence would be swiftly reported and their lives forfeit.
Further across the arena, Galen's attention was drawn to the representatives of the more magically inclined races. He observed the high elves of Quel'Thalas, their movements elegant and precise, their equipment uniformly red, a testament to their discipline and organization. One team was composed entirely of mages, their arcane energies crackling with potential, while another featured a shield-bearing knight, a skilled ranger, and a final member whom Galen sensed was a powerful priest, their combined abilities a force to be reckoned with. The Nightborne team from Suramar, their movements fluid and graceful, consisted of a magic swordsman, blending arcane power with martial skill, and two mages, their ancient magic a force of subtle power.
Galen also noted the presence of the Tauren, the proud and steadfast race from the southern plains. They had sent forth two teams, each representing a different tribe: one team of Mulgore Tauren, their connection to the earth evident in their sturdy forms and unwavering resolve, and another team of Highmountain Tauren, their heritage tied to the towering peaks, their movements agile and powerful. The dwarves, as always, were well-represented, sending three teams to the trial: the stalwart Bronzebeard dwarves, their axes gleaming with determination; the fierce Dark Iron dwarves, their fiery tempers matched only by their skill in battle; and the wild and untamed Wildhammer dwarves, their gryphons circling overhead, their connection to the sky evident in their every move.
Finally, Galen's gaze fell upon several teams composed of races that were less common within the Alliance, a testament to the Grand Marshal's policy of inclusivity and cooperation. He saw teams of hardy bear people from Grizzly Hills, their powerful forms and primal ferocity a sight to behold, as well as teams composed of vassal races of the Argent Crusade, combinations of tenacious trolls, cunning gnolls, and resourceful kobolds. Galen even spotted a lone Pandaren, his movements fluid and unpredictable, and a brown-skinned orc, his eyes burning with righteous zeal, both proudly displaying the emblem of the Crusader, their presence a symbol of the organization's diverse membership.
Galen was pleasantly surprised to see his own vassals participating in the trial. The common development of the various races of Azeroth had always been a cornerstone of his strategic policy, a vision of unity and cooperation. He was gratified to see them actively participating on this grand stage, proving their worth and contributing to the Alliance's collective strength.
The beasts of Northrend, while individually not exceptionally powerful, possessed a significant advantage in their sheer numbers.
As the trial progressed, the sheer scale of the challenge began to take its toll. Soon, over thirty participating teams suffered casualties, their formations broken, their members scattered. However, the Alliance had anticipated the dangers of this trial and had invested heavily in the safety of its participants. Each warrior was equipped with a personal teleportation beacon, a magical device that would activate the moment they lost their combat effectiveness, instantly teleporting them out of the trial field and into the care of the waiting mages outside the arena!