Chapter 8: Quest Choice

"Magic is simple, Arthas. Anybody can do it with the right mindset. It's simply the realization of your will." - Jaina Proudmoore

"Something on your mind, Arthas?" Varian's voice, a peculiar thing that seemed to deepen the longer he was with us, brought me out of my thoughts. "You've been lagging behind for a while now."

"Just curious and a little excited, I suppose. I've never been outside the city," I said in a hushed, if barely contained, voice.

Varian nodded understandingly. "I was two years older than you before I was ever allowed out of Stormwind," he said with faraway eyes, "but these visits King Terenas pays to the farmers…it is a custom I have not seen another King do."

"Father always said that it was the least we could do for the people. After all, they put food on our tables and marched under our banners," I said from memory. "Even if they have nothing bad to say, people wish to be heard, no matter their birth or circumstance."

After a moment of contemplative silence, he spoke. "Perhaps the other rulers would be wise to follow your father's ways then."

"It's the people that make a king, thus for a king to rule he must know his people." This was a line I had heard father repeat on countless times. Thus, he made it a point to leave the Capital every few months to see how his subjects fared and to hear their complaints, if there were any, of those who could ill afford to leave their home – people such as the farmers and fieldhands of the Tirisfal Glades whose crops would surely die if left alone. It was Brill's turn to receive the King.

This excursion was different for two reasons, or should I say two persons.

First, Varian had come along. He had insisted on it actually, so that he could properly express his gratitude to the very people who had ensured his countrymen wouldn't starve. The Northwest was the most fertile lands of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, and it was their crops that sustained the Azeroth Remnants, the majority of which had opted not to make the trip to Lordaeron City but instead settled down south in the Hillsbrad Foothills.

Second, and more importantly, I was being allowed to come at long last. "You should see your people before you leave them for the mountains," father explained, "so that in the darkest of times, you will remember who you fight for."

I could not help but recall the Game's words when Varian arrived, when I leveled up for the first time.

Additional levels also unlock more skills, titles and areas for you to visit! – And prophetically enough, its words had come true. Just a few days past my eight nameday, I would be seeing a farm for the first time!

"You'll go mad in minutes," Falric said over the rhythmic clacking of hooves on the paved King's Road, replacing the smile slowly sprouting in me with a scowl. Again I had fallen behind, or perhaps Varian had ridden ahead? I couldn't tell. "I'm telling you, farms ain't that interesting, Prince Arthas."

"So you've said," I answered, recalling his words from some nights ago.

"'e ain't wrong, milord." I turned my head to my other side and lifted my chin up and up and up 'til I could see the guard's face. Jax was his name and he was a head and a half taller than Falric. Not to say that Falric was short – in fact, he was of average height – but Jax was a giant. "From a farm me-self to the west o' 'ere, and t'was as dull as dull can be. Can't imagine 'tis much different 'ere, m'lord."

Falric smirked triumphantly and I frowned. "You know, I get the feeling I'm more excited to see your birth town than you yourself, Falric."

"Don't get me wrong, I love my home. I'm just not blind to its faults."

-Gamecraft-

The town of Brill, in its entirety, was barely the size of Lordaeron Palace, never mind the city! At the heart of it all was the town hall, a construct of hardwood that I doubt would hold up against a determined attacker. The rectangular form of a barracks huddled close to the town hall such that the narrowest of alleys stood between them. It was obvious even without the use of 'Observe' that a particularly thin man would find crossing the cramped gap bothersome. A rather large smithy proved adequate to service the needs of the thousand or so households here. Probably the most the town blacksmith (and apprentices, of course) had to do was maintain horseshoes and farm tools.

The obligatory town tour ended around midday and our party congregated at the town hall for lunch. Its interior was a mirror of its exterior – simple and undecorated. Even the city hall in Lordaeron could be considered opulent compared to this!

"Bah! Those walls would be beneath the attention of bandits!" I heard Lord Warwick complain to my father as he stabbed a fried chicken wing with his fork. "I could run this village to the ground with five men and keep my sword sheathed all throughout."

"Then it's fortunate for these people that you are on their side, Lord Warwick," Father answered with wry amusement, before drinking from a golden goblet that was worth more than what the entire village earned in a year.

"That's not the point I was making, sire." Aristocratic manners kicked in as he paused to bite, chew and swallow. "These villagers have grown complacent."

"Can you blame them? The ravages of war have not touched these lands in hundreds of years. It makes little sense for them to waste time on stone walls they do not need."

"I'd rather have stone walls and not need it, then need stone walls and not have it," said Warwick.

"Evidently, the villagers disagree," Father said.

Warwick wasn't one to back down so easily. "They'll be singing an entirely different tune if their enemies get here."

Their conversation did not seem like it was going to end anytime soon and already I was tiring of it. "I think I'll take a walk," I said to no one in particular. Father locked eyes with me for a moment, indicating he had heard, before returning his undivided attention to the Lord Commander.

Falric and Jax were by my side before I was halfway to the door. "Where to first, Prince Arthas?"

"You mentioned your family had a farm here, right?" He bobbed his head slowly while wearing a mask of uncertainty. "Well then, let's go see if farms are as boring as you say."

"That's what you want to see?"

I shrugged. "Sure. What else is there here that the capital doesn't have a bigger version of?"

Falric opened his mouth to retort then shut it quickly. "…'e ain't wrong," Jax said.

Despite his efforts to conceal it, it was rather obvious Falric was pleased. He missed his family. I'd feel the same if I was away from mine for months. A feeling of uncertainty crept up on me.

Did I make the right choice by agreeing to go to Alterac? Sure Perenolde was the only other Gamer I knew of…but on the other hand, I was leaving behind my family. Who knows when I might see them again? Despite the unique bond I shared with the King of Alterac, he was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger to me.

"You alright, milord?" Falric asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'm fine. Just thinking about my fostering, is all. I…leaving my family behind isn't as easy as I thought it would be."

"It never is," Jax said wistfully, "but you get used to it."

"Not to worry, Prince Arthas," Falric added, "Jax and I will be with you at Alterac."

"You will?" I gave them a surprised look. This was the first I was hearing of this.

"'Course we will!" Jax bellowed heartily, thumping his chest with a meaty hand. "Where you go, we go."

"Someone's got to make sure you don't cause too much trouble," Falric said. "You didn't think the Crown Prince of Lordaeron would be sent away without his guards, did you? Your family cares about your safety." His words warmed me.

Falric's family built their home on the outskirts of the town. The house itself was two stories tall and of medium size, made from the very trees that grew outside of Brill. Between the house and the browning forest's edge was a stretch of open land neatly subdivided into these rectangles. Bushels of grain sat on the field while farmhands worked their way across the field.

"That's odd." I could hear the frown in Falric's voice. "The harvest ought to be done by now." It could be nothing. Or it could be trouble.

We were some distance off when Jax lifted my banner even higher and gave it a wave or two for good measure. One of the farmers – a teenage girl by the looks of it - spotted us and began pointing, her fellows turning themselves to see what about. Some continued their labor, while others, presumably the more prominent ones, readied to receive me.

"Welcome to our village, milord!" the leader by virtue of being the oldest greeted.

Elder of Brill
Gerrart of Brill
LV 21

I tip my head in acknowledgement. "The harvest looks to be running late this year," I commented in an off-handed manner.

"Not as many hands working the fields, milord. Plenty of our boys left the village for prospects with the King's Men." He puffed up his chest. Now that he had mentioned it, there were fewer men in the crowd than I expected, especially for a village of this size. "It's nothing to worry about since first frost is running late this year anyhow."

I accept the reasoning, mostly because I trusted a local would know better than myself about such matters. "I'm sure they will serve my father well," I said, before gesturing with a hand to my side. "Why, my own guardsman here hails from this village."

"Greetings, Elder Gerrart."

"Ah! The young Falric!" Gerrart exclaimed after a moment. "I see you have made something of yourself in the Guard!"

"I-"

"RAID!" Instinctively, my head (along with everyone else's) turned to the source. A frantic villager emerged from the fringes of the Eastern Forest. "RAID! FROM THE FOREST!"

"W-we must take refuge in the Town Keep at once!" Gerrart told me in a hushed and hurried voice. Already the crowd had dispersed and fled.

"Aye, we best head back, m'lord. Warn the other guards about this first." Jax agreed.

"But the villagers will be in danger!" Falric protested. "The old and the children might not make it there in time!"

The Quest 'The Raid of Brill' has been created!

-Go to the Keep and warn the Guard
OR
-Defend the villagers

The Game was throwing a lot of firsts at me today. Not only was I given a quest where the reward and failure penalty were unknown, but I also had to make a choice. Up 'til now, the Game dictated what actions were necessary to fulfill the quest. Having a certain freedom was refreshing, but it had its shortcomings.

What was the right choice here?

I had no idea who might be attacking the village. Another of the human kingdoms was unlikely, given the Alliance. A treacherous noble even less so. My mother and sister remained safe behind the Capital walls and those loyal to my father would rally once word reached them. An uprising here and now couldn't succeed. Bandits, perhaps taking advantage of Brill's defenseless state? Lord Warwick had predicted this would happen sooner or later.

Heading to the Keep was the safe option, to be sure, but the thought of abandoning some of these innocent folk to death to preserve my own hide left a bitter taste in my mouth. Was I not their Prince? Would I cower this day from mere brigands who dared to threaten my people?

"We should go now, m'lord," Jax urged once more. "Quickly, 'fore we're spotted and made a target."

"No." I tilted my head towards Gerrart, whose face was now as white as freshly fallen flakes of frost. "Elder Gerrart, head to the Keep and warn my father of this please," I said.

"A-as you wish, sire!"

"Now ain't the time to be stubborn, m'lord." Jax said. "Our charge 's to keep yeh safe and, by the Light, that's what we'll do!"

"Your charge might be to keep me safe, but it is my charge to keep my people safe, Jax." I said firmly. "I'm staying to protect these villagers. You may run, if it suits you."

Jax growled. "The bravado of youth. Was I ever this stupid?" he asked the heavens, noticeably losing his accent. It lasted for a moment only. He planted my banner into the ground hard before dismounting. "If 'ere's where ye'll fight, m'lord, then I guess we'll have t'er cut down the bastards 'fore they reach you." He drew his blade, which looked like a child's plaything in his hands.

Redemption's Seeker
Guardsman Jax
LV 33

Falric's weapon was already out and in his hands, grim determination on his lips.

The Sword's Edge
Guardsman Falric of Brill
LV 33

By a stroke of good fortune, I had brought my bow and a quiver full of arrows for this trip. They were a bit blunted, perhaps, from practice, but better than nothing still. It made my choice of weaponry obvious. I had some skill in the bow now after weeks dedicated to that weapon. Holding the sword properly was my upper limit. My bow was a proper weapon, chosen after careful consideration. My sword was a ceremonial trinket, more for awing than fighting. Besides that, I was nowhere close to being equal to my guardsmen in the art of swordsmanship. I'd be more hindrance than help with a blade.

And from a distance, I'd be safer too from the reach of enemy steel. I was brave, foolishly so according to Jax, but not to the extent of putting my body where all the sharp, stabby, pointy things were.

Hulking, humanoid shapes burst from the tree line, the distinct form of axes in their hands. Made from white stone, I noted with 'Observe', or bone, for it did not glint in the sun as metal would. The leading figure drew back a muscled arm then flung his axe at the villager who had screamed the warning, the head of the weapon biting deep into flesh. The man was dead before he hit the dirt – his name and level vanishing.

The raiders were green and tusked and tall, each as large as Jax. There was only one creature I knew of that fit that description.

"Fuckin' forest trolls!" Jax vocalized my conclusions, minus the swearing, of course. Mother would slap me silly if she ever heard such foul words from my lips.

Forest trolls were brutish cannibals that lived in the woods. While most of them resided further north, near Quel'Thalas, it wasn't uncommon for some small tribes to be seen in Lordaeron. They were strong and tough, but none too bright.

I grabbed an arrow from my quiver and notched it, taking careful aim. I didn't have as much practice with moving targets as I liked, and these targets in particular were moving fast, albeit in a linear fashion.

Bow Mastery: Level 13 – Continuous training with the bow and arrow increases attack damage with bow and arrow by 65% and attack speed with bow and arrow by 19.5%.

Yew Recurve Bow – This is a recurve bow made of yew. It doesn't hit as hard as longbow and crossbows, but it requires less strength and is reasonably accurate for long distance shooting. It is a choice weapon for hunting. It is a ranged weapon that deals piercing damage, effective against the unarmored and light armor, but weak against fortified and medium armor. It is under the status effect "Well-Maintained". It suffers no penalties.

Yew Arrows – Standard issue arrows made of yew and steel tips. It is under the status effect "Blunted Tip". Damage is reduced by 25%. 30/30 Available.

I wonder how much HP these trolls had? Wait, I had an option for that.

"HP bars always visible," I muttered, grinning as green bars appeared over the green skins. I fired, the arrow's metal head striking the troll leading the charge.

He snarled - a truly ugly visage – and continued on, the arrow bouncing off his skin. My mouth fell. Barely a blip of his health disappeared! "For Zul'Jin! For da Amani!" he roared and the trolls sped up even more.

"That lead troll looks like a tough 'un, m'lord. Doubt y'er arrows will do much 'against 'im."

Jax wasn't wrong. Instead of channeling my attacks on him futilely, I'd be better off thinning out the dozen trolls headed our way.

The group was close enough that I could now see their levels, which ranged from 35 (the lead troll) to 15 (the runts struggling to keep up at the back of the group). Given the level gap between me and them, I'd have the best luck against their weakest.

Forest Troll Grunt
Vuzato of the Amani
LV 15
HP: 500/500
MP: 25/25

No doubt his HP was incredibly as a result of the troll's innate resistance and regenerative ability, or so the soldiers say. Translated to Gamer terms, I suppose that would be STR and VIT. His low MP also indicated his INT and WIS weren't that high and that he wasn't particularly bright. Most trolls weren't. 'Observe', now at level 18, showed me more than that however.

Equipped Weapon: Bone Throwing Axes (Ranged)
Equipped Armor: Unarmored

The second arrow I fired hit his right thigh, dealing 62 points of damage. I frowned. It was decent, I supposed, but not enough to make a big difference in the fight. My arrows needed to be sharper, hit harder and faster.

My arrows needed to pierce deeper.

I felt warmth course through my body, the crimson in me flowing faster. My ears thrummed. My vision tunneled. My heart pounded painfully.

My hand felt a tad cooler when I released my next arrow, and I knew it was different somehow -enhanced.

A skill has been created through a special action! Continuous manipulation of mana has created a skill to sharpen the penetrative qualities of your weapons, 'Piercing Edge'.

The metal tip hit him dead in the eye and a flash of red numbers appeared over his head. Whatever it was, it seemed to be a good thing, especially since only a tenth of his health remained. Vuzato clutched the arrow shaft, shrieking in an inhuman tone, which was actually normal considering he wasn't one to begin with. I placed a third arrow through his throat to silence his horrid screeching and end his misery.

The trolls were halfway across the field now and picking up speed with every second. In moments, the first of them would be within reach of Falric's sword.

I charged another of my arrows with 'Piercing Edge' and struck a she-troll (or so the Game said, I couldn't tell from looks alone honestly) in her right thigh, watching with satisfaction as it skewered skin and sinew, immobilizing that leg of hers. It did slightly more damage than my unenhanced arrows, but not as much as the arrow with the red numbers. Perhaps that one was a fluke?

A mystery for another day - for now, I had more trolls to slay.

With the she-troll struggling on the ground, I shifted my sights to another of her companions. After all, she wouldn't be doing us much harm while crippled in the distance. That and it was exceptionally difficult to hit something lying in the dirt from far away.

The sound of clashing arms made me release the string too early, causing my arrow to fly askew and without the strength behind it to hurt anything really.

The troll leader traded blows openly with Falric and Jax both. The thing was a berserker, its mind gripped by insanity or battle hunger. He would freely take hits from either one just to land one of his own. It wasn't a terrible strategy, all things considered, as it had far more health than either warrior. Though the blades of my guards had drawn terrible lines inked with blood, the troll continued to fight without even a hint of pain, a testament to the resilience of trolls.

I didn't let this distract me for long and fired off another shot. I'd take down as many of these trolls as I could before the nature of melee combat made it unwise to continue for fear of hitting my own men. Two more I managed to fell, one with an arrow through each arm and another limping forward at a turtle's pace.

It wasn't enough.

The outnumbered troll leader gained the upper hand in numbers as its allies joined the fray, turning the fight into a two on five. The other three were axe throwers, ranged combatants of the troll race. They too were afraid of hitting their own men and did not unleash their axes on Falric and Jax.

They turned their eyes on me.

Oh shi-

I jumped backwards in the nick of time as three stone axes made themselves at home on the dirt I used to be on. A troll head landed at my feet as Falric's blade passed through the formerly attached neck. I continued to dodge the axes, which were rather poorly aimed in my opinion. The need to be on the move constantly made it impossible for me to launch my own attacks though.

"Onwards men! To the Prince!"

I sighed in relief as the sound of charging horsemen reached my ears. Help had arrived!

The lead troll snarled again, and I must say that his ugliness didn't improve with time. He shouted something undecipherable, but I assumed it was a call to retreat for the survivors started to run for the forests. A small party such as theirs had no hope of defeating the two score of mounted soldiers coming to our aid.

The cavalry didn't pursue, opting instead to form a protective ring around us.

Your level has increased by one! Your level has increased by one! Your level has increased by one!

"Forest trolls, Your Majesty," I heard Warwick say. "Shall we give chase?"

"A small band like that could cause all sorts of havoc to these people," father said. "Go."

"On me men!" Warwick yelled, leading half the men into the woods.

A pair of strong arms squeezed the air out of me. "Arthas! Are you alright? Are you injured?"

"I'm fine!" I managed to squeak out.

He parted with me slightly and the concern in his eyes gave way to fury, no doubt for putting myself in danger. His mouth opened, a harsh rebuke no doubt on his tongue.

I was so grounded.