Inquiry

Alvin had already thought of subduing this group of gnolls and putting them to work for the Kingdom of Lordaeron. But a decision that conflicted with the prevailing views of society wasn't something he, an "eight-year-old" child, could make on his own. At the very least, he had to convince his teacher, Archbishop Faol.

Besides, even if his teacher really was persuaded and agreed to let Alvin accept the gnolls' allegiance, how could they prove their worth to the Kingdom of Lordaeron and to him? How could they show the world that Lordaeron's second prince wasn't a fool or a madman, but was genuinely acting in the kingdom's interests?

The only thing Alvin could think of was to have them act as guides after the Harvest Festival, helping the kingdom use force to unite the various gnoll clans and kobold groups within Lordaeron. That would eliminate the kingdom's hidden dangers and reduce the casualties its soldiers might otherwise suffer.

The addition of the gnolls might help the kingdom's army achieve its goals more smoothly during the purge and training exercises six months later, but the kingdom would still need to commit troops to keep watch over these potentially rebellious beasts. On top of that, adding gnolls to the ranks would increase the amount of supplies that needed to be allocated.

Whether it was troop deployments or supply distribution, this new variable would affect the kingdom's original plans. Decisions with strategic implications like these were beyond the prince's authority for now.

So at that moment, Alvin had no intention of playing mind games with the cunning old Shaman. He needed to know what the gnoll could offer the Kingdom of Lordaeron, while also figuring out how to persuade the archbishop—who could influence his father—to accept his proposal and make the gnolls vassals of Lordaeron.

From their earlier exchanges, it was clear that the Shaman cared deeply about his own life and the safety of his people. Otherwise, he wouldn't have snapped when the Goblin merchant threatened to feed them to the dogs, nor would he have surrendered without hesitation upon realizing Alvin was a prince.

Maybe he's even more anxious than I am? Remembering the gnoll Shaman's unusual behavior, Alvin felt his tension ease and gradually calmed down.

Because everything had happened so suddenly, they had only given the interrogation room a quick cleaning. The guards had done their best to sweep it out, but the air still reeked.

The pungent smell made the boy frown slightly. Sitting in a tall chair, he looked up at the gnoll Shaman, whose expression was impossible to read, and got straight to the point. "Tell me your name, gnoll."

"Your Highness, I am Logul, a Shaman of the Maw-Claw Clan."

The gnoll didn't dare hide anything from the prince, who held the lives of everyone present in his hands. Before Alvin could ask another question, Logul poured out the whole story: how he had encountered the Goblin merchant caravan and been captured by its mercenaries.

But that only made Alvin more curious. How had a merchant caravan managed to wipe out a gnoll clan and a large group of kobolds? Even if the caravan had hired more than a hundred mercenaries, things shouldn't have turned out that way.

A gnoll clan numbered at least in the hundreds, and among them was a clever Shaman like Logul. Judging by the intelligence he had shown Alvin, he shouldn't have led his people into a battle they couldn't win.

That left only two possibilities. First, someone in the clan had outranked the Shaman and started the fight. Second, there had been an unknown factor among the caravan's guards, and that was why the gnolls—usually invincible in the mountains of Alterac—had been defeated.

"I'm curious what was so special about that caravan that it could defeat a gnoll clan and the large group of kobolds who served you."

Alvin stared intently at the Shaman bound to the rack and voiced his question. He genuinely wanted to know. From what he could tell, that so-called caravan had already made it into the heart of Lordaeron. With fighters like theirs, they could cause the kingdom unnecessary trouble.

"Many of them were battle-hardened warriors, nearly as brave as the strongest fighters in our clan. They even had five mid-level mages who could wield Arcane power. The ice and fire they unleashed shattered my people's morale."

At the prince's question, Logul lowered his head, which he had been holding high until then. This defeat was a terrible disgrace to him. He couldn't forgive himself, a gnoll who had always prided himself on being wise, for letting hot blood cloud his judgment. He had failed to scout the enemy's true strength before attacking, and that had led to his defeat.

Suddenly, the gnoll leader seemed to remember something. He jerked his head up, his eyes gleaming. "That's right, Your Highness. I remember those warriors all wore matching breastplates and greaves. I suspect they were private soldiers belonging to some great noble in the south."

"The south?"

Alvin raised his right hand to rub his chin and fell into thought. A "caravan" trying to cross the Alterac Mountains, powerful fighters, uniform, high-quality equipment, and mages who seemed mysterious to ordinary people—the answer was obvious: Tiffin Ellerian, along with the bands of lesser nobles and merchants heading north from Stormwind City ahead of the Orcs' arrival.

Alvin knew that before the end of the year, the battle beneath Stormwind City would end with the king assassinated and the humans defeated. Still, he hoped the Kingdom of Stormwind could hold out a little longer, giving the Kingdom of Lordaeron more time to prepare for the coming war and arrange its supplies.

Of course, if King Llane could change history and escape the fate of dying at Garona's hands, Alvin would raise both hands in celebration. A single successful general was built upon countless corpses; war was more brutal and merciless than anyone imagined. Rather than fight a great war against the Orcs, he would prefer Lordaeron to develop steadily until the day he was ready.

But those weren't things he needed to worry about right now. When the sky fell, someone taller would hold it up. He was still a child not yet eight years old. No matter how much he prayed, he couldn't change what was happening in Stormwind City, a thousand miles away. With that, he quieted his jumbled thoughts and turned back to the towering gnoll Shaman. Logul needed to prove his worth through action.

"If I order you to lead your people in gathering all the scattered gnolls and kobolds throughout Lordaeron, how many troops would you need to support you, and how long would it take?"

The boy's childish voice echoed through the enclosed interrogation room. The overlapping echoes made his words a little unclear, but they did nothing to dampen the gnoll Shaman's excitement. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for!

If he succeeded, he and his clan would be free from constantly migrating through the cold, snowy mountains and fleeing human armies. They would finally gain true peace and security. He might even be able to use Lordaeron's strength to teach those fools who knew nothing but slaughter a proper lesson!