The cabin didn't look big, but it was quite deep inside. Unas and his companion were led to a small room in the back, which seemed to be where the owner ate. A few pieces of fruit were casually placed on a round table in the center of the room.
"Please don't be shy about the fruit here. The master is treating patients up ahead, so please wait a moment. I'll be right back." With that, Nightmoon disappeared through the door.
Neither Unas nor Beryl were the type to stand on ceremony, and neither of them had eaten fresh fruit in a long time. The few apples and oranges on the table were devoured by the two of them in no time.
Unas let out a satisfied burp. "As expected of a guardian of nature, the Druid's fruit is truly sweet."
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door. Thinking it was Master Oakleaf, the two quickly stood to greet him. A tall figure appeared in the doorway, followed by—a Troll?
Unas instinctively shielded Beryl behind him, and with a thought, Silver Hammer emitting a blinding white light appeared between his hands. He lowered his body, pointed the hammer at the Troll, and assumed a fighting stance.
Trolls are the mortal enemies of mankind, and he had witnessed firsthand how soldiers treated their Troll captives along the way.
All 103 Troll prisoners had their thumbs cut off so that they couldn't use their weapons even if they got them. The heaviest supplies were strapped to their backs, and they were also put on special short leg chains to prevent them from running too fast.
The Troll appeared at the doorway slowly raised his hands, indicating that he meant no harm. He seemed surprised that there were other people in the room.
Unas then took a closer look at the enemy before him. This Troll's skin was actually light yellow, while the Troll prisoners he had seen were all green.
Looking at the Troll's raised hand, its thumb was intact, and although its clothing was strange, it was very neat, definitely not like that of an escaped prisoner.
"Relax, young man, I am not your enemy," the Troll said slowly, his voice very gentle.
Unas was puzzled. How could this stronghold, dominated by humans Dwarves Elves, tolerate a Troll roamed freely?
Who are you?
"Like you, Paladin, I am also a servant of the Holy Light," the Troll replied.
"This joke isn't funny at all, a Troll who believes in the Holy Light?" Unas said, but his heart wavered. "Besides, I am Paladin, but I am not a servant of the Holy Light."
A white light shone from the Troll's palm. Unas could clearly feel that the white light and the Holy Power infused into his Silver Hammer came from the same source. This guy wasn't lying; he really was a believer in the Holy Light!
Unas lowered his weapon, but remained vigilant, and asked hesitantly, "What are you doing here?"
"A routine visit to an old friend," the Troll said, lowering his raised hands, "That is, Master Oakleaf."
Troll can be friends with Night Elf? These two races don't seem to be on very friendly terms, but the fact that he came directly to this small reception room suggests that he is indeed a friend of Oakleaf. Unas was momentarily at a loss.
"May I sit down?" The Troll took two steps forward, seemingly looking for a seat at the round table.
"Please go ahead." Unas pulled Beryl back to the corner, keeping his distance from the Troll.
"Heh, you don't need to be so hostile towards me. I am Desert Troll from the Tanaris Desert on the other side of the Great Sea," the Troll pulled out a chair and sat down. "And those green- Forest Trolls of Amani have a thousand-year-old feud with humans, they have nothing to do with me."
This guy is desperately trying to distance himself from any hatred towards humans; could he be a Troll traitor?
Zul'Farrak in Tanaris is a massive Troll dungeon, and I've run Unas countless times. The Trolls there do seem to be yellow-skinned, but whether they're yellow-skinned or green-skinned, Trolls are always dangerous creatures to humans.
He asked in confusion, "What are you, a Desert Troll, doing traveling all the way across the ocean to Lordaeron?"
The Troll blinked. "The world is so big, I want to see it."
Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door again. This time, the main character had finally arrived. Holsa Oakleaf was a typical Druid, half a head taller than Wendy Nightmoon behind him. He was leaning on an oak staff covered with green leaves, and his head and face were covered in green hair, so only half of his face could be seen. His eyes radiated a gentle and wise light.
Seeing the scene in the room, the Druid immediately understood what had happened and burst into laughter. "Old friends and new friends gathered together—this is the most enjoyable day I've had lately."
The Druid's laughter eased the tense atmosphere in the room. He gestured to the two standing people, "This must be Mr. Unas, and Miss Beryl. Please have a seat."
"Master Oakleaf." Unas pulled Beryl aside and gave the Druid a slight bow, then forced an apologetic smile at the Troll before the two returned to the table and sat down.
"Wendy, go get some more fruit." Oakleaf looked at the fruit plate on the table, which only had a few pits left, and smiled gently at Beryl. "These fruits come from a few fruit trees I cultivated using seeds I brought from the Darkshore. I wonder how much of the taste from home has been preserved?"
"Thumbs up!" Beryl gave a thumbs-up with both hands.
"Ha ha!" The Druid's laughter almost pierced the roof.
Unas struggled to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. The young girl's casual compliment had made this old man so happy; all his wise and gentle gaze had vanished.
The Troll coughed twice to remind Oakleaf, and then the Druid said, "I haven't introduced you yet. This is Sabula Haikesi. Don't be afraid. He's a Troll has converted to the Holy Light and has been personally pardoned by Ashbringer. You can treat him as a human civilian."
The Troll then slowly began to tell his story. He claimed that he was originally Witch Doctor of a small tribe. During a civil war among the Desert Trolls, his tribe was annexed, and unwilling to surrender, he had no choice but to wander around.
When he crossed the ocean to Lordaeron, the Scourge War had just broken out, so he had to take refuge in the Distant Mountain Monastery, which was abandoned due to the war. He became obsessed with the large number of Holy Light books in the Monastery library.
He devoted himself wholeheartedly to understanding the Way of the Holy Light, and one day the Holy Light answered his prayers. From then on, a new world opened up before him, and he threw himself into it without hesitation, dreaming of becoming a Holy Priest through self-study.
However, after the defeated human army occupied the Monastery, he, as Troll, was naturally captured as an enemy who had blasphemed the holy land. He desperately tried to explain that he was a devout believer in the Holy Light, but no human would believe him.
Fortunately, Alexandros Mograine sensed the Holy Light within the Troll. Despite everyone's objections, he pardoned the Troll's death sentence and merely banished him.
Haikesi did not abandon his faith in the Holy Light because of the humiliation he suffered; on the contrary, he became even more devout. He came to Venomspider Gorge and became the first person to establish this stronghold.
Subsequently, the Argent Dawn chose to settle the various races who had been banished by Abbendis here. The Troll, as a novice Holy Priest and a seasoned Witch Doctor, was a skilled healer, and the people gradually accepted this friendly and eccentric Troll.
The reason they became friends with Master Oakleaf was due to their shared love of herbs and their mutual appreciation as fellow healers.
Unas hearing his story, Unas's doubts deepened. A Troll, traveling thousands of miles across the Great Sea to the war-torn Lordaeron, making the cause of the Holy Light his own—what kind of spirit is this? This is the spirit of international harmony!
Could he be that legendary, noble, pure, moral, and selfless Troll Bethune -like figure who transcends base desires and benefits the people?
That's a lie!