Chapter 482: Alliances – Hinterlands

For the Wildhammer dwarves, last night was undoubtedly a night full of pleasant surprises.

As avid drinkers, they had the honor of hosting distinguished guests, and from these guests, they received a type of liquor they had never seen before—brandy. 

To them, this was nothing short of a divine gift.

If not for his lingering hangover, Falstad would have eagerly woken up early to seek out the esteemed guest and discuss trade agreements concerning this fine brandy.

However, for Alaric and his companion—no, at this point, that term seemed rather inappropriate—Alleria, last night had been nothing short of embarrassing.

Especially for Alleria. When she awoke from her drunken stupor, she was shocked to find herself sharing a bed with her beloved younger brother figure, Sandor. 

More importantly, neither of them had any form of defense—their clothes, torn to shreds by an intoxicated Alleria, lay scattered across the floor.

Just one glance at the chaotic state of the bed was enough for Alleria to realize that something irrevocable had happened between them.

What made her even more flustered was the undeniable fact that she had been the one to take the initiative.

She could vividly recall how she had pounced on the man beside her, clumsily attempting to assert dominance, attacking wildly—only to be completely and utterly defeated in turn...

These scandalous memories did not fade away with the dissipating alcohol but instead lingered, growing more vivid with each recollection.

Back in Silvermoon City, Alleria and her younger sister Sylvanas had been competing fiercely, each trying to be the first to win over this man. 

But now that it had actually happened, the usually decisive Alleria found herself torn and hesitant.

After all, he was someone she had always regarded as a younger brother. As his sworn elder sister, how could she possibly do such things?

Thus, despite the ambiguous interactions between them on the journey from Silvermoon City to Aerie Peak, Alleria had stubbornly refused to take the next step. 

She certainly had not planned to cross the final boundary like she had last night.

And yet, due to the effects of alcohol, the two of them had unknowingly reached the point of no return.

Gazing at the sleeping man before her, his handsome features softened in slumber, Alleria understood that their relationship could never go back to how it was before.

"Perhaps this isn't so bad after all," she thought to herself, her delicate fingers tracing along Alaric's face. "Whether as siblings or as lovers, does it really matter? In times as dark as these, having someone to rely on is enough."

Alleria was not one to get lost in trivial details. She quickly convinced herself to accept this newfound relationship and swiftly settled into her role.

When Alaric finally awoke from the blissful exhaustion of the previous night, he was startled to see Alleria tenderly dressing him, folding their bedding as if they had been an old married couple for years.

Catching Alaric's complicated gaze, Alleria smiled faintly and spoke gently, "Don't misunderstand. This is simply an elder sister taking care of her younger brother."

"Oh?" Alaric raised an eyebrow, stepping forward with an almost predatory presence, cornering Alleria against the wall. "Do you still think this is just a sister taking care of her brother?"

As he spoke, his hands wandered, toying with the very areas he had thoroughly explored the night before. A cold smirk tugged at his lips.

"...Fine," Alleria sighed, batting away his mischievous hand, "It's also a woman taking care of her man. Satisfied now?"

"Like a child, fussing over such trivial matters," she murmured.

"A... child?" Alaric was momentarily speechless. How was this childish?

He wanted to protest, but words failed him. Technically speaking, in terms of age, he was indeed much younger than Alleria.

Sensing his internal conflict, Alleria continued in a soothing tone, "Regardless of whether we're siblings or lovers, let's not worry about labels for now. We have all the time in the world to figure out our relationship, don't we?"

"You're right," Alaric nodded, understanding her sentiment. "In an era like this, there's little room for idle romance."

"Smart boy," Alleria chuckled, pleased that he grasped her perspective.

However, Alaric wasn't quite finished.

"Even so, I have one request."

"What is it?" Alleria asked indulgently. "I'll agree to anything."

"Come to my room tonight?"

"You little brat! What are you saying?!" Flustered by his blunt proposal, Alleria's face turned a deep shade of red, and she quickly fled the room.

Watching her retreating figure, Alaric chuckled. "For someone who's lived so long, she's surprisingly innocent in these matters."

With that, he too left the guest chamber.

By the afternoon, the Wildhammer dwarves had all recovered from their hangovers, regardless of how much they had drunk the previous night. With clear heads, the formal negotiations commenced.

"So, what you're saying is that you want us to join you in fighting the greenskins?" Falstad asked Alaric loudly after reviewing the documents.

"That's correct, King of the Wildhammers," Alaric affirmed with a nod. "Not just the greenskins in the forests but also..."

He gestured toward the map before them.

"...those currently besieging the Bronzebeard dwarves."

"Ugh, greenskins and more greenskins. Why do they always cause trouble for us?" Falstad grumbled before turning to Alleria. "So, you high elves have also joined this so-called alliance?"

"That is correct," Alleria answered with a serious expression, her demeanor completely different from her earlier softness. 

"Quel'Thalas has decided it is time to permanently rid ourselves of the troll threat. Of course, if our Wildhammer allies were to join this endeavor, that would make things even better."

"Ah, yes, of course," Falstad readily agreed. 

"The Wildhammer dwarves are always prepared to aid our allies. Those trolls truly are a nuisance. Not only do they attack my people, but they also keep us from using those damn trees!"

"So, you're agreeing to join the alliance?" Alaric asked carefully.

"Aye, by my beard, I swear it!" Falstad declared. "But you will help us rescue our Bronzebeard brethren as well, won't you?"

"The Bronzebeard dwarves are our allies as well. It is our duty to help them," Alaric reassured him with a smile. 

"Now, if you would sign these documents, Supreme Commander Lothar will send representatives to coordinate with you soon."

"Ah, you humans and your endless paperwork," Falstad grumbled but nonetheless signed the documents and stamped them with his hammer's seal.

Once all was settled, he suddenly grabbed Alaric's arm.

"Brother Sandor, wait a moment," Falstad said enthusiastically, his expression resembling that of a hopeful pup. "There's some business I'd like to discuss with you—about that brandy."

"Oh? Of course," Alaric chuckled. "I'd be more than happy to do business with my Wildhammer brothers."

And thus, a new round of negotiations began.

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