Alleria was pleased to see her king so determined, and certainly agreed with the sentiment. But she shook her head anyway. "The trolls are only part of the danger," she reminded Anasterian and the others. "The Horde is numerous beyond belief and the orcs are strong, tough, and determined." She grinned. "Fortunately I did not come alone."
Turalyon was battling a pair of orcs and had just smashed one to the ground with his hammer, though he took a heavy blow on his shield from the other. A third orc leaped at him, almost knocking him from his horse, and since the creature was too close to strike with a weapon Turalyon headbutted him instead, his heavy helm striking the orc across the brow and the bridge of the nose and leaving him stunned. Turalyon shoved the dazed orc off his horse and onto his third foe, then used that opportunity to strike both of them good hard blows. Neither of those two would get up again.
He brushed water from the front of his helmet, taking a second to peer up at the thick gray clouds that hung above them. The rain showed no sign of letting up, though he supposed that was a good thing. At least the fires were out now, and unlikely to start again. He supposed he could stand fighting in such soggy, miserable weather if it helped keep the elven homeland from burning to the ground. Off to his side he caught a brief glimpse of Khadgar, who was laying about him with sword and staff. The wizard had exhausted his magic summoning the vast storm, which stretched across the entire front of Quel'Thalas, but he was proving formidable enough with mundane weapons that Turalyon knew he should not waste time worrying about his friend. Besides, he had enough foes that he should be focusing that worry on himself instead.
Turalyon was just turning to deal with a pair of orcs at his left flank when one of the two stiffened, twitched, and toppled over, an arrow through his throat. Turalyon recognized the fletching and grinned. Sure enough, a lithe young woman darted toward him a moment later, her travel cloak's hood tossed back despite the downpour, the tips of her long pointed ears piercing the golden mane that surrounded her lovely face. Somehow the rain was ignoring her, falling around her instead of on her, and Turalyon was not sure if it was elven magic or just the sheer power of her natural beauty.
"I can see I got here just in time," Alleria commented as she reached him, idly turning and putting an arrow in another orc's throat. "What do you do when I am not around to save you?"
"I manage," Turalyon replied, too caught up in battle to feel flustered by her presence. He blocked an attack and struck down the orc in question, already turning to find the next foe. "Did you find them?"
"I did," she confirmed. "And they have agreed. Already the warriors and rangers are mobilized. They can be here in ten minutes, if here is where you want them."
Turalyon nodded, using his hammer's long shaft to block an axe swing and then shortening his grip so the hammer's head struck the offending orc on the return swing. "Here is as good a place as any," he answered. "And as long as we are here to fight them the Horde isn't going anywhere."
Alleria nodded. "I will run back and inform them. You have only to hold fast until they arrive." Her voice sounded strange, and Turalyon risked a quick glance. By the Light! Was she crying? She certainly looked sad. No doubt the invasion of her homeland had taken a hard toll upon her.
"We will hold," he assured her grimly. "We must." And Alleria was gone again. Turalyon only hoped she and her kin retuned before the rest of the Horde overwhelmed their tiny defense. Already waves of orcs were pouring in from the sides, and Turalyon knew his forces could not stand against the entire orc army, especially not here on an open field where the orcs could surround them and swarm them under. They would need support, and quickly. He just hoped the elves were as ready and as capable as Alleria made them sound.
Ter'lij, one of Zul'jin's subordinates, grinned. He and his pack had smelled something unpleasant nearby and had followed their noses to a delicious sound, a single soft thump—thump on the forest floor below. A lone elf. Ter'lij had been charged with watching this path, which led toward the elven city, and keeping any elves from crossing it. Well, this was one elf who would go no farther.
Lowering himself silently through the foliage, Ter'lij caught sight of his prey. The elf was moving quickly enough for one of its kind, and most likely other creatures would have thought it quiet, but to Ter'lij its passage was as loud as the thunder he heard rumbling near the forest's edge and its pace was easily surpassed. The elf wore a long brown cloak, the hood raised, and was leaning upon a long staff. An elder, then. Even better.
Licking his lips with anticipation, Ter'lij motioned his pack to follow him down. Then he dropped from the trees, his curved blade in hand, and grinned at his victim and started in surprise as the elf tossed back his cloak and straightened with a grin of his own. The staff swung up and around, revealing a long blade at one end, and armor gleamed even in the shadows of the trees.
"Did you think we could not hear you rustling about above us?" the elf sneered, his narrow features pulled taut in a glower. "Did you think we could not sense you befouling our forest? You are not welcome here, creature, and you will not be suffered to live."
Ter'lij recovered from his surprise and laughed. "Very clever, little pale one," he agreed. "A fine trick you be playin' on Ter'lij. But there is only one of you, wi' your little stick, an' many of us." The rest of his pack landed behind him and ranged out, ready to surround the arrogant elf.
But the elf only grinned more widely, his expression nasty. "Do you think so, oaf?" he taunted. "You pride yourself on your woodcraft, yet you are blind in the forest compared to us. And deaf."
Suddenly a second elf emerged from behind a nearby tree. And then a third. And a fourth. Ter'lij frowned. There were more and more of them, until he and his pack were surrounded and thoroughly outnumbered. And all of them carried the same long spears and bore tall oblong shields. This was not what he had expected.
Nonetheless, Ter'lij was a seasoned hunter and warrior and was not so easily frightened. "Better!" he announced finally, rising to his full height. "A real fight, not just pickin' off an unarmed elf! I like it!" And he leaped upon the lead elf, his sword raised high—and died in mid—air, the elf commander's spear sliding through his chest and piercing his heart before emerging out his back. The elf stepped to one side, letting Ter'lij's body slide from his weapon, and pivoted, sweeping the spear around in a deadly arc to slice off the hand of a troll advancing upon him.
The battle was over quickly. The elf leader kicked at one of the bodies, which did not move, and nodded. He had faced forest trolls before, though never here in Quel'Thalas, and while they were talented forest hunters compared to most races they were clumsy when matched against an elf. Sylvanas had sent his patrol out, one of many, with orders to flush out and kill any trolls they could find. This was the second pack he had encountered, and he wondered how many more still crashed through their forest.
He was opening his mouth to rally his men when a slender figure burst into the clearing, golden hair streaming behind her. His ears had picked up her approach seconds before she arrived, and clearly she had placed speed over customary stealth.