Julianos' squad was stalking a group of undead in the forests west of Zul'aman. They had already been stationed there to keep an eye on the trolls, but when the Scourge invaded Quel'thalas the trolls retreated into their empire.
They were five rangers in the squad. Julianos was a Lieutenant at the time and second in command.
The group of undead they'd been stalking seemed to be not much more than a scouting group, but a scouting group that had made it dangerously far from the frontlines. The majority of the skirmishes took place much further east, at what had come to be known as the Dead Scar.
News as well as orders came in regularly as ranger scouts made their way through the forests. So far the orders had been to not engage the scouting party, but rather find out what they were looking for.
However, the squadron was getting anxious.
"This is wrong. We shouldn't be allowing such filth to soil our sacred woods. Where are our orders to engage?" the concerns were shared by the entire squad, but it was Lor'therien, a young ranger, that voiced them.
"We need to know what they're after. Knowing their motives will be beneficial for our soldiers on the front," the voice of reason. Jasiron was a Captain and commanding officer of the unit. Though he supported and followed the orders he was given, his voice suffered from the doubt that had gripped so many of the rangers. "We can't fight an enemy blind."
It was true. No terms of surrender, no demands, nothing had been offered from the enemy. Their motives for invading Quel'thalas were a mystery, and it left a gaping hole in the Farstriders' defence. They simply didn't know where to amass, what to protect.
This enemy was like nothing the Quel'dorei had ever faced before. They were fearless, ruthless and relentless. The undead knew not anxiety nor fatigue. Their troops could walk day and night without rest – and the rangers were suffering for it.
Many posts of strategic importance had already been lost. Thalassian Pass had been the first line of defence; a bottleneck into which the enemy would have to venture. Archers cleverly positioned on either side of the pass ready to fire dozens of arrows down upon any unwelcome visitors.
It was here that Ranger General Windrunner had propositioned the Scourge commander. An ultimatum: "Turn around, or be cut down".
But the undead knew not fear. The rangers stationed at the gate had been massacred. Flying monstrosities had pulled the archers from their perches and thrown them to the hungry undead many feet bellow.
In the end, the Ranger General had had to retreat into the woods.
Intelligence from the area suggested that the undead had started construction of an outpost in the mountains next to the pass. And that new monstrosities made their way out of the outpost everyday.
It was getting dark, and the men were getting ready to sleep. They were three in the camp, the other two rangers were keeping an eye on the undead scouting party.
"Two hours, then Elleniel and Dor'ranian should be back. Try and get some rest."
They had no tents in the camp, no camp fire. There was nothing to indicate their position, but the elves themselves.
Julianos didn't get any rest, though. He was on guard duty. As Jasiron had said, in two hours Erreniel and Dor'rathir would return to the camp, and Jasiron would head out along with Lor'therien to keep an eye on the scouting party. These rotations were the only way they were able to keep up with the never faltering enemy. They had been at this for days, and they still had no idea what the undead were scouting for. And to make matters worse, the squad was receiving fewer and fewer news. They had not heard from a scout for days, not received any updates in orders or news. Sometimes it felt as if they had been forgotten.
xxxx
At daybreak Jasiron and Lor'therien returned, and Julianos ventured into the woods with Erreniel, following the instructions they had received from Jasiron. Quickly and silently they made their way through the forest. Erreniel was a remarkable ranger. She was young, but an excellent marksman and tracker. She led the way, with Julianos right behind her. Julianos himself was older. He had served with the Farstriders since before the second war. He had fought back the orcs as they burned the southern woods and he knew the forests of Quel'thalas as well as any other ranger; perhaps even better.
He had served for longer than anyone in the squad, but he had never wanted an officer's commission. He was a ranger by heart, not a leader.
They neared the location where Jasiron had said they would find the undead. It was a small troll village. The huts and soil were burned out; probably by the trolls as they retreated to Zul'aman. The undead were nowhere to be seen, but this was to be expected. From the trees Julianos scouted out the village and quickly he found what he was looking for: a trail of rot leading away from the village; unmistakenly differentiated from the burned out grass because of the scent of death.
Julianos quickly nodded to Erreniel and started running in the direction of the scent. They dodged trees and bushes, jumping over streams and rocks, never making a sound, never leaving the cover of the trees. Soon after, they had the scouting party in sights.
xxxx
Later, when Julianos and Erreniel were nearing the ranger camp they were met by noises. Worried by this both Erreniel and Julianos readied their bows.
"To hell with the orders!" Jasiron shouted. "For days we are left here with no word, and when news finally arrive…" he choked on his words. Something was terrible wrong, Julianos could sense it. He had known Jasiron for years, he knew that he was always supportive of High Command always doing his duty.
"Jasiron, calm down, sit." it was Dor'ranian now, trying to soothe his old friend. "Breathe".
"Get out of my way or I swear I will cut you down!" Jasiron was screaming now. Dor'ranian stepped aside, astonished, speechless. Jasiron, Julianos and Dor'ranian had served together for many years, in many different units. They were friends.
Jasiron stormed off into the woods quickly disappearing out of sight. Julianos was astonished. He had no idea what had transpired in the camp, and it was not until now that he noticed an unfamiliar face in the camp; a scout by the looks of him. Erreniel entered the camp and Julianos followed.
"What has happened here?" Erreniel demanded.
"News finally arrived," Lor'therien simply said.
Julianos looked from Lor'therien to Dor'ranian, but no explanation was offered.
It was the stranger that took the word: "The eastern villages have fallen. Ranger General Windrunner has fallen. Our armies are in full retreat. The front lines have moved to the river. Our armies are gathering at Fairbreeze Village, but the conditions for a skirmish there are not optimal. If the runestones fall, Silvermoon is our last line of defence."
Julianos couldn't believe it. The southern Quel'thalas lost. The villages decimated; the Ranger General dead. It was all clear now. This was what the scouting party was after: the runestones. They were seeking entry to the Eversong Woods.
"What are their armies after? What do they want with Quel'thalas?" asked Erreniel.
"They do not care about our recources. They burned the villages, slaughtered the civilians. They are not after lumber, nor gold. We can only assume that they are here for the Sunwell." the scout continued.
"Wait," said Julianos. "The eastern villages… Jasiron is from Goldenmist. His family is in Goldenmist."
"Yes," said Dor'ranian.
"Goldenmist was utterly decimated, along with the other villages. I tried telling the Captain that going there would be pointless." the scout said.
"Well what do we do now? What are our orders?" asked Lor'therien worried.
"Retreat to Fairbreeze and gather up with our remaining forces. These lands are lost. I apologize, but I must continue on, there are other squadrons in the area that I must inform." said the scout and departed.
The camp went silent. Nobody said a word. A starting revelation came upon Julianos; he was now in command of the squad. They were waiting for his orders.
"Gear up," he said. "We're finishing off here."
Julianos led his squad to the place where he had abandoned the Scourge scouting party. Perhaps they would slow down the undead's advance by wiping them out. So they did.
It was a quick skirmish; the rangers never left the trees. When the undead had fallen the squad started their trek northwards towards the Eversong Woods.
xxxx
"This is disastrous. King Anasterian demands to know how we allowed the enemy to advance this far!" The visage of Grand Magister Rommath blurred. The loss of the runestones had allowed the enemy's necromantic magic to seep into the Eversong Woods, and already the magical prowess of the elves was being disrupted.
"Yes, Grand Magister, I will make sure a status report is sent to Silvermoon at once," Lor'themar Theron robbed his temples. He was tired. Having been Sylvanas Windrunner's second in command, he had been the one taking over her title as Ranger General after her death.
"See to it that you do. I don't have to remind you how dire the situation is." Rommath's visage faded and disappeared.
"Listen, I'll handle the status report. Just get some rest, the soldiers need you rested." Halduron Brightwing placed a soothing hand on Lor'themar's shoulder. He had always been a good friend, and now as Lor'themar's second in command, his friendship was more valuable than ever. Lor'themar knew that there was no way he would have ever been able to handle the burden of leadership without his aid.
Yet still, he knew he had no time to rest. The enemy was marching at the village as they spoke, his soldiers anxiously waiting for what would inevitably become their last stand.
"Thank you, Halduron. But you know I can't rest now." Lor'themar stood up and exited the makeshift war room. Fairbreeze Village had been refitted and repurposed to its best ability to become a military outpost.
Outside the men were weary. Survivors from the Blackened Woods of southern Quel'thalas along with civilians of the Eversong Woods had already been evacuated to Silvermoon. Only soldiers remained in Fairbreeze now.
Rangers were stationed in the woods ready to hail down death upon any enemy that would venture close enough to the Village. Silvermoon had even sent a regiment of Spellbreakers to bolster their ranks. Usually under the direct command of the Grand Magister, Lor'themar found these Spellbreakers hard to read. They showed no emotion, and offered no comments on the tactics he enforced.
His rangers had offered plenty of objections and disbelief at the Ranger General's order to burn down the woods of the southern Quel'thalas, but the Spellbreakers had silently acknowledged the orders and begun preparations. Lor'themar didn't know whether to approve of or detest them. These were their lands they had destroyed; their home.
However Lor'themar knew that they would be invaluable in the defence of Fairbreeze. Where the common ranger was not geared or trained for melee combat, the Spellbreakers were more than prepared; wielding towering shields and two-bladed swords. They were the bane of any spell caster and Lor'themar suspected that they would come in most handy against the necromancers of the Scourge.
The sun was setting, and the trees cast dark shadows over the village. The air was buzzing with magical energies from the magisters' rituals to keep up the protective enchantments, once held in place by the runestones. But the magisters' recognized that soon the enchantments would fade, and it had been decided that rather than be taken by surprise, the magisters would remove the enchantments, so that the armies would be ready for the oncoming assault. And this time was nearing.
Lor'themar looked out upon the forests. This would be their final stand. And if they failed Silvermoon would pay the price.