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Chapter 2: New Beginning
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Wondrous. Eternal. Few words could describe the beauty of Quel'Thalas - an exotic city, with a culture and heritage more older than the humans of the continent. Land of the Eternal Sun, where it was warm and sunny all year long.
Sylvanas mentally laughed at the last myth: Quel'Thalas had in reality three seasons - the renewing spring, the warm summer and the mild autumn. It was a barely noticed by the high elves nowadays - most studying or practicing magic, yet for a ranger, a Farstrider and for Sylvanas it was as noticeable as day and night. She was the Ranger-General of Silvermoon, charged with protecting Quel'Thalas from dangers both outside and in.
Her current assignment was tracking down and killing a group of trolls, who had been causing too much trouble for the local merchants.
"Anything?" asked her co-ranger, Nathanos Marris; a human and Sylvanas' proudest achievement.
A Ranger Lord, one of a kind - many had wanted to dismiss him Halduron, Lor'themar, the House of Sunstrider included. They had wanted to dismiss him, because he was a human and not ranger material. Who was laughing now, cerainly not them - Nathanos Marris had the tenacity, drive and valor of any Farstrider, maybe even more.
"What do you see?" asked Sylvanas, as she let Nathanos examine the trail.
"Well..." he mumbled, eyeing the tracks. "Fast moving...carried...somebody, a female or a male kid...tired..."
"Good eye..." she replied, as they kept following. Nathanos didn't have the keen elven sense or sight, yet he made up with his cleverness, quick-thinking and improvising.
They made their way through several forests, and over a river when they spotted their prey - two trolls and a tied up high-elf girl.
"Alright..." whispered Sylvanas, nocking an arrow with Nathanos following. "Take the farthest one, I'll aim for the one near the girl. Take it down..."
Nathanos soon took aim, from a crouched position - aimed at troll' left chest, a few taps below - then he let loose, straight through the heart and dead. Sylvanas' arrow following, straight between the eyes and dead before it hit the ground.
They both then exit the high-grass and made their way towards the scared girl - Sylvanas removing her blindfold and gag, then releasing her from the restraints.
"By the Sunwell, I thought I was dead..." mumbled the girl, half-shaking. "Thank you..."
"Not worry, the Farstriders heard your pray and we came," replied Sylvanas. "Nathanos, get this girl back to Silvermoon - I'll mop up this trash."
"Got it!" replied Nathanos, as he started to help the girl back home.
Sylvanas was proud, he was a good ranger, a great Farstrider who could track almost every creature in Quel'Thalas; yet for everything good he had one weakness, he's Thalassian dialect was still rusty. Despite minimum human contact and the semi-language barrier, Marris had still opted to stay in Quel'Thalas; bringing some excitment to a usual hunting day.
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After two hours of cleaning and tracking down several trolls, Sylvanas was left with a body count of seven trolls. They were less and less trolls nowadays, yet each time they eliminated one encampement it would take several months to locate another one - the more they kill, the more spread out the trolls become; atleast they weren't organized to more than a simple raid-group. So until then, they could be handled and the high-elves didn't need to mobilize any large armies.
She soon was past the guards of Silvermoon and into the great elven city. High elves were moving about in the busy streets and districts of the grand city: buying, selling, studying and shuffling about; young, old, male and female alike. It was her duty to protect this city and every last elf here - being a Ranger-General wasn't easy, despite her young age by elven standards, it was demanding and only the best could lead, and she was it.
Sylvanas' current agenda was to check up on the scared elf girl. While the questioning was always the difficult part, the captured usually gave out only scarce information, but pieced together by a Farstrider that information would give them some clues about finding other trolls or understanding their ambush tactics.
The Farstriders were mostly stationed outside of Silvermoon, yet being closer to the Sunwell seemed to calm down the captured elves quicker, than if they were outside.
"...incident...spread...plague...Lordaeron..." spoke voices, that caught her ear.
Sylvanas stopped immediately upon hearing the word 'Lordaeron' - it caught her attention for a reason, that or the word plague.
Returning to the source, which was inside a building, she found Priestess Liadrin and two other priests eyeing a nearby map, which seemed to be of Lordaeron.
"...if this...oh..." realized Liadrin when she spoted Sylvanas, getting up and greeting the Ranger. "Lady Sylvanas, what brings you to my house?"
"I...sorry, I heard you talking about something - relating to Lordaeron and some plague," said Sylvanas.
"Of course - namely there are rumours of some kind of plague sweeping across the Lordaeron kingdom," spoke Liadrin, showing the map of Lordaeron and several places highlighted in red. "While it isn't worrysome, the scale of it is - there have been several reports, from minor towns and villages; yet it is spread mostly in the eastern part."
"And right on our doorstep..." replied Sylvanas, looking at the map.
"Not to worry, the enchanted runestones, elfgates and forests protects us," said Liadrin. "Yet, what worries me is the suffering. Light-given it's amoral to be allowed this suffering to happen and not help. So two of my pupils here had agreed to go and help the Lordaeron."
"It's against the Light," spoke one, a male.
"I agree, we must give them some aid!" added the other, appearing to be brothers.
'Priests...' thought Sylvanas, rolling her eyes. "How'd you get there, and where will you start? Some of the roads to these places have bandit or creature activity."
"The Light will guard us," said one.
"We heard, that the Prince of Lordaeron himself is looking into this," added the other priest.
'Prince of Lordaeron? Damnit, where have I heard that name?' thought Sylvanas, remembering something, yet not quite recalling it. "May I accompany you?"
"...M'Lady...?" asked Priestess Liadrin suprised. "Are you sure?"
Sylvanas was a bit suprised herself at that question, yet eyeing the map brought up some weird feelings in her and usually that spelled danger. She had a semi-worried feeling, a quick clance at the map approved her choice.
"Yes, I am!" replied Sylvanas.
"But...your the Ranger-General...well...I don't mind...and my pupils would be delighted to have you accompany them. There is just one problem..." spoke Liadrin.
'Anasterian,' she realized. "I'll go talk to him myself, meet me on the outskirts of Silvermoon. I'll see if I can get permission by then."
"Very well, we will meet you there Lady Sylvanas," said Liadrin, as Sylvanas departed for the royal palace.
Outside, she immediately bumped into Nathanos, who she wanted to talk to as well.
"So you're heading for Lordaeron?" asked Nathanos.
"Yes - something about this gives me weird feelings and those usually mean something bad is about to happen," replied Sylvanas. "I'd rather deal with it in Lordaeron, than in our lands."
"Alright."
"As such I want Lor'themar Theron to temporarily take over my assignments."
"Alright, I'll go inform him of this temporary change," replied Nathanos.
"One more thing. Try not to tear eachother apart, if I leave," she added.
"Well try," he replied, heading to find Lor'themar, while Sylvanas headed for the royal palace.
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Sylvanas walked through the hallowed Silvermoon Palace, her hood down and her head tilted infront - a sign of respect here. Because this was the place were the Silver Circle and King Anasterian Sunstrider ruled over all of Quel'Thalas and lead the high elven people. The King himself having ruled for three thousand years, since the Troll Wars to the Second War upto today.
She was soon allowed passage into the throne room, where sat the elven king Anasterian - he had grown old, his hair had turned from sun yellow to stone gray and his body seemed more frail than usual; yet beyond those eyes stood hundreds of years of wisdom, knowledge and power. Resting on his was the ancient runeblade Felo'melorn. Despite her title and family heritage, she was still excepted to bow before the king.
"King Sunstrider..." spoke Sylvanas in her most graceful tone, bowing before the great Sunstrider.
"Speak your business. What brings you here, Lady Sylvanas?" asked Anasterian.
"My king...you may have heard about the plague, ravaging Lordaeron?" she asked.
"I have..." he replied, calmly awaiting her to continue.
"I've found that two elven priests would like to head to Lordaeron to help with this plague," she spoke, eyeing the king's reaction. "I'd like permission to accompany them."
"Interesting...and what would the Ranger-General of Silvermoon, be interested in human affairs?" he asked, hiding his 'mild' distaste about working with humans.
"This...plague seemed to be concentrated near Eastern Lordaeron, near our borders. As such I find it my duty, to help keep this plague away from our lands. As well as to make sure, that our elven brethren make it home safely later after aiding our fellow kingdom," spoke Sylvanas - hinting at the slight threats to Quel'Thalas, her sworn duty to defend against it, the prevention of casualties and to keep 'good' relations with their human kingdoms.
"What of your duties?" he asked, hinting at the defending of Silvermoon and Quel'Thalas.
"I believe Lor'themar Theron can temporarily handle my duties, until I return," replied Sylvanas. "He is a very good Farstrider, as well as commands respect. His skills with a bow are only third to Halduron Brightwing."
"Hmm.." Anasterian was silently pondering on the thought of sending another Windrunner outside of Quel'Thalas. While elves were permited to leave, the kingdom itself kept an isolated policy since the Second War. While he wasn't liking the idea of sending the Ranger-General herself to investigate this 'plague', he knew to keep up face and good-terms with Lordaeron - it being the largest and most influental member in the Alliance.
"You...may accompany them...yet only observe and lend aid when absolutely needed," spoke Anasterian. "After this, I expect you to return to Silvermoon with haste and report back, what you have found."
"Thank you, my king," replied Sylvanas, turning on her heels and leaving.
Anasterian was left to ponder on his choice - while Quel'Thalas would be without its great Ranger, this incident south could gain him political rapport with the Alliance. After all the Ranger-General of Silvermoon was a very prestigious and respected title for a high elf, and by simply sending her along, Anasterian could easily gain a favor or two. How bad could this plague be anyway?
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Five days later, Sylvanas and his two priest companions had reached the town of Brill. It was a small town, yet already she could smell a bad stench about it - it was disgusting and had an unholy feeling to it, as if it was marked by death.
There were several places burning around them, including several disfigured creatures that seemed to be the problem here. Sylvanas took them down with a few, well shot arrows.
"What are these things?" asked Sylvanas, as she eyed the corpses.
"Strange. They seemed to be undead creatures, somewhat similar to the ones the orc death knights used against us in the Second War," spoke one priest. "Yet these seem more...improved, dangerous."
"We got some more way to go, before we get onto the road to Andorhal," said Sylvanas.
"I feel an evil taint coming from that direction, I can feel it and smell it," spoke a priest.
"I see..." said Sylvanas, climbing onto a building and looking far. "...you're right. A warehouse, on our way and it doesn't look like it's shipping grain anymore."
"Very well...we should-" said one, until they saw a human group approaching, wearing the crests of Lordaeron.
"Greetings. We are priests from Quel'Thalas. We've come to help heal the land of this strange curse."
"As always, the generosity of the elves is greatly appreciated," replied one young, female mage in the human group.
"You should know that there is a granary warehouse at the far end of this village. This evil blight may be evident there as well."
"We'll check it out."
"Wait, I've seen you before," spoke up Sylvanas, eyeing the young paladin who was their leader. Then it hit her. "You! Prince of Lordaeron!"
"Yes, that I am," replied Arthas confused, along with his men.
"Seven years ago, back in Dalaran?" she asked, reminding of a bad memory as he glanced at Jaina. Then it hit him as well.
"It's you?!"
"Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas. At your service," said Sylvanas, as they shook hands like they were old friends.
"Guess the world is small; I never expected to meet you again," replied Arthas.
"Well, let's save the reunion for later. As I recall, you got a plague on the loose," said Sylvanas.
"Yes, of course. This is Jaina Proudmoore, a dear old friend," spoke Arthas, as they started to move up.
"Nice to meet you," replied Jaina, greeting the young ranger.
"And this is Captain Falric," he added, introducing his other friend.
"Appreciate the aid ma'am," replied the captain, as he walked infront with Arthas.
They continued on the path, until they came across a dwarven group nearby, on their way to Andorhal - a mortar group.
"What the hell are you men shooting at?" asked Arthas.
"We're blasting those damned skeletons, sir. This whole flaming village is crawling with them," replied the dwarves, as they fired another shell into the undead in the village.
"Well, I could use your help. We've got a warehouse to destroy at the end of town," said Arthas, as they were all heading towards the warehouse and spotted a group near it.
"We've been discovered, my brothers! Flee and continue with the operation!" barked a black robed man, dismissing the gathered group. "I'm sorry I can't stay and chat, but...duty calls."
They were prepared to follow them, if not for the undead blocking them and an even larger and more grotesque creature emerging from the warehouse.
"That creature looks like it was sewn together from different corpses," said Jaina, looking at the disfigured undead being.
"Let's study it after we kill it, okay?" said Arthas, as he readied his mace and charged forward; Falric and the footmen following them. Sylvanas and Jaina stuck behind and started raining damage from afar. The numerous smaller undead fell quickly, however the bigger undead took more effort. It was a sack of flesh, that took the damage and counter-attacked in force; its cleaver downing one footman and injuring two other.
"That thing...its tough," spoke Jaina, as she pummled it with fireballs.
"Everything has a weak-spot," replied Sylvanas, nocking an enchanted arrow and this time aiming for its head. She then let it fly, into the head and froze its skull - the abomination groaning, before falling down dead.
"Destroy that warehouse, now!" ordered Arthas to the dwarves, who let loose shells that set the warehouse on fire and destroyed it.
"What was that? And who was that wizard dressed in black?" asked Arthas, as the priests were healing the wounded and Sylvanas was keeping her eyes open for any ambushes.
"I believe that the robed man was a necromancer," replied Jaina. "Obviously, he and his lackeys are behind this plague."
"I find that doubting, since necromancery is banned magic to us," said Sylvanas. "And I doubt any human managed to learn and wield necromancy on a scale like this on their own."
"Well, it's a good bet we'll find him, and the answers we're looking for, in Andorhal," replied Arthas, as he watched the warehouse burn down to a crisp, before they started to head towards Andorhal.
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A/N: Sylvanas is tagging along with Arthas and Jaina. Sweet or what?
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