Tales from the Second War: The razing of Quel'thalas

The armour-clad High Elf paused in mid stride with fist raised, concern showing in his half-masked face. A paladin, noticable due to the heavy plate that was disliked amongst the Elves and only prominent amongst the light-wielding warriors of that race. In the other hand, in tight grasp, was a ranseur. Favoured among Elves, the weapon extended beyond the reach of most blades and was swifter than the hammer wielded by the common paladin. "What do you hear, My friend?" the closest in the patrol asked. Of a younger appearance but still outliving the eldest humans by several centuries, Rind had proven himself a most loyal ally and friend to the paladin. Pyrius turned his head, but his eyes never focused upon the shorter Elf. "Are they still out there?" He asked again, nervously pulling on the strings of his bow. "I favour our chances of striking now, Pyrius" "We hold. They've been following us for two hours and will soon tire of this game." Pyrius stared at the treeline to the left of the road they had been following through the Eversong Woods. Since leaving Goldrunner Village, the Elven patrol had been followed, stalked by something that evaded their everymove. Sometimes it was in front of them, and sometimes it was behind them, but it was always there. The acute Elven hearing could detect the rustling of leaves and rush of wind, indicating the movement in the surrounding woods. It occured as if taunting the Elves, drawing them from the road and into the trees. Twice had Rind become angered and raced into the bush, only to find the lurking foe would retreat, trying to draw him into unfavourable territory. Pyrius knew the dangers of such an act and would recall Rind to the road. "You think it to be these Orcs?" Pyrius shook is head at Rind. "No, they would not have the patience for this, nor would they take the pleasure in agitating our patrols rather than slaughtering them." "Then the Trolls? They wouldn't dare! .. Unless the rumours of the alliance with the Orcs were true. Pyrius? Will they attack soon?" Rind glanced around with agitation.

The attack came late in the evening when twilight began to bring darkness upon Quel'thalas. The patrol was bound for Silvermoon City. Pyrius walked at the forefront of the group while Rind trudged along behind him, struggling to keep pace with the paladin's long strides. There was no warning, just the whistle of an enormous spear as it was flung at the Elves. It tore into the light road, pulverising the stone where it struck. Shreds of the road launched into the air and the noise of the impact was met by a roar from the branches above. Four burly Forest Trolls lept down upon the rearguard and cut him down before the astonished eyes of the patrol. Troll attacks were not unheard of but became rarer and rarer as they were pushed deeper into the forests over the years. These obviously had the confidence that they would win. However they had never faced a Paladin before. Pyrius barked an order at his comrades to stick close, and raises his ranseur into the air. Light bathed the High Elf as He strode into the Forest Trolls. Snarling, the first descended on him only to find the ranseur burst through his spine. Another was felled by Kathis, an ill-tempered mage attached to the patrol, who's hands radiated with heat from the conjured flames. Rind too didn't hesitate, releasing arrow after arrow at precise points to weaken rather than slay.

((Be back soon. I keep doing this -_-))