Arriving at Southshore

Vailton Barov had clearly received an excellent upbringing in etiquette and likely grew up surrounded by a multitude of servants. Consequently, he performed the role of an attendant with surprising ease, his deferential posture indistinguishable from that of a seasoned veteran, leaving no room for criticism.

Looking at the "treasure" that had delivered itself to his doorstep, Prince Liam nodded with a friendly smile. Since he had made up his mind to accept the boy, he was now one of his own; as long as Vailton did not reveal any ulterior ambitions, Prince Liam would naturally treat him with courtesy.

However, polite as he was, the words that left Prince Liam's mouth made Vailton's hair stand on end.

"You may come with me, but first, go and kill all of those people. I do not wish for my whereabouts to be leaked to anyone. Remember, I want no survivors."

Prince Liam held not a shred of sympathy for these thugs who did nothing but harass and oppress the common folk. One need only look a dozen years into the future to see the major farms in the Hillsbrad Foothills and the Arathi Highlands being incessantly plagued by these wretched maggots; those who refused to submit to them were destined for nothing but broken homes and ruin.

For such scum—vicious toward their own, yet spineless toward outsiders—Prince Liam decided he would kill every one he encountered.

As Prince Liam spoke these chilling words with a smile, a longsword miraculously appeared out of thin air in his hand, which he then passed to Vailton. He could certainly have finished these men off himself; at the very least, tossing out a single card would have been more than enough to dispose of them.

However, Prince Liam wanted to temper Vailton Barov, and it served as a test of sorts. He needed Vailton to recognize his position, and he needed to see if the boy possessed the courage to follow him.

Before Vailton could react, one of the bandits, whose injuries had only just begun to heal, roared at Prince Liam with a display of bravado that masked his inner terror.

"Do you know who he is? If you take him away, the Syndicate will never—"

"Bang!" With the sound of a gunshot, wisps of blue smoke rose from the Queen Killer in Prince Liam's hand. A dark, hollow cavity appeared in the center of the forehead of the bandit who had dared to interrupt him, followed by a spray of red blood mixed with white brain matter.

Prince Liam's casual execution of the bandit caused Vailton's initial panic to gradually dissipate, replaced by a yearning for such formidable power. The youth, who had never witnessed such a bloody scene, hesitated as he raised the longsword, his eyes still fixed on Prince Liam with reverence before he stammered with a hint of hesitation:

"B-but they are too strong, sir. I am no match for them."

"Rest assured, I can grant you the power to kill them. As for whether you have the courage... that is up to you."

With that, Prince Liam flicked his wrist, and Prince Liam appeared in his hand once more. With a casual toss, the card merged directly into Vailton's body.

A flash of golden light swept over the boy, and the once-slender youth suddenly grew taller, his facial features and even his attire shifting until he looked, in every way, like a carbon copy of Liam Greymane!

Prince Liam, who felt as though he were looking into a mirror, experienced a brief moment of shock before realization dawned on him. He recalled the ability Vailton had randomly acquired: the Mask Collector from the Witchwood set, a magical card capable of altering one's true appearance and form at will!

[Name: Mask Collector (Vailton)]
[Status: Minion, Loyalty 30]
[Origin: Witchwood]
[Type: Minion]
[Rarity: Legendary]
[Stats: Attack (2), Health (2), Mana Cost (3)]
[Skill: Consumes (3) Mana Crystals each time the appearance or form is changed.]

Two days later, at dusk, the Southshore docks.

Two youths steered a small boat quietly into the minor pier. The first jumped off and headed straight for the Southshore inn, while the other, a slightly slighter youth, tied the boat to a wooden piling before jogging to catch up, following closely behind the first with a cautious air.

These two were Prince Liam and Vailton, returning from Atonement Island.

Having successfully acquired the Mask Collector ability that day, Vailton had easily cleared out the remaining Syndicate bandits; the scene of the battle could only be described as a massacre.

Although the power of the Mask Collector was not inherently combat-oriented, it granted abilities on par with a novice rogue. Had these men been in peak condition, Vailton would never have stood a chance, but after suffering a reflexive Flamestrike from Coral, their combat effectiveness had been all but depleted.

Poor little Vailton had clearly suffered greatly at their hands over the past few days, and he showed no mercy, dispatching the group in short order. His loyalty, sitting at 30, rose by a symbolic 4 points—an increase of over 10%—which left Prince Liam sighing in wonder.

The Mask Collector's ability was too broken; Prince Liam had considered reclaiming it, but turning such a power into a one-time-use card would be a waste. After weighing the pros and cons, he decided to leave it with Vailton.

In any case, every transformation consumed crystals, so Prince Liam was not worried that this boy, who appeared honest but was not particularly "loyal," would be able to pull any tricks.

Pushing open the tavern door, a roar of noise washed over him, nearly knocking Prince Liam back out.

Southshore was not yet the ill-fated, war-torn land it would become; the constant flow of merchants and travelers made the town inn incredibly lively, and even as night fell, many were still drinking and chatting inside.

It was a pity that the Southshore of the future would lose this vibrancy. To the west, gnolls occupied the mines; to the north, yeti blocked the mountains; to the south, murlocs ravaged the harbor; and to the east, the old rivals, the Forsaken, had seized Tarren Mill, while the Syndicate occupied Durnholde, sealing off Southshore completely.

With such a hostile environment and the plummeting population of the north following the Scourge, the town a dozen years later would not even be a tenth as lively as it was now.

In Prince Liam's other memories, it was only when the entrance to the Alterac Valley battlefield was open that players would flock here to kill one another. Once the battlefield no longer required people to travel there, the place truly became a desolate wasteland. Only during the annual Feast of Winter Veil would people swarm in to claim gifts and bully the poor yeti, Grinch, who lived on the snowy mountains.

"Since I am here, I should at least do some good. I hope this lively scene can continue for a long time..." Contrary to the bustle of the tavern, Prince Liam felt a sense of melancholy. Looking at the patrons clinking their glasses, he wondered how much longer such a scene could last.

A ridiculous thought suddenly occurred to him: perhaps he should just head to Lordaeron City and finish off the "Prince" whose intelligence was currently in a downward spiral!