"Understood, Lord Malfurion!" Larsen shot Andy a resentful sidelong glance. "Th-then what should we do with that orc?"
"If Andy is right, then it would be unwise to leave such a dangerous race in Darnassus." Tyrande glanced at Malfurion. "Why don't you take him back and lock him up in the Sentinel Unit's cells?"
Malfurion smiled. Tyrande always seemed to know what he was thinking, and he agreed with her. "Quite right, Tyrande. Larsen, go take care of it."
"If he's so dangerous, we might as well kill him outright!" A vicious look crossed Larsen's face.
"We can't kill him!" Andy shouted. "If you kill him, the fel energy inside him will run rampant and corrupt this place. One orc might not be that infectious, but we can't be sure what the fel-corrupted Elf will do!"
"Hmph. Until we know the truth, we can't just decide to kill him!" Malfurion glared at Larsen. "Elves revere nature. Even if he's from another race, we can't kill him before we understand his true nature."
"Yes, I'll take care of it right away!" Larsen bowed to the two of them, then turned to leave. As he passed Andy, he shot him a fierce glare and muttered, "We'll see about that!"
After Larsen left, Tyrande smiled at Andy. "You can go back too, Andy. Thank you for coming to tell us about this."
Andy bowed before turning to leave, but Malfurion called after him. "Andy, when I return from the Eastern Kingdoms, I want you to tell me how you know so much that the rest of us don't."
Andy smiled and walked out. Malfurion's parting words, his gaze, his tone—it was as though he could see straight through to Andy's soul.
Let us leave Malfurion's solo journey to Stormwind City to learn more aside for now, and turn to Larsen.
Larsen had had a thoroughly miserable day. He'd thought that after completing this escort mission, he'd get a few days off, giving him time to spend with Hilar. She was the woman he'd long admired. He hadn't accomplished much yet, but at least he was a squad leader in the Sentinel Unit. He was sure to become a platoon leader someday. Who could have guessed that Andy would ruin his grand plans?
When Larsen had entered the city and seen Andy with Hilar, the two acting so familiar with each other, he'd already been furious. After everything that had happened that day, he'd come to hate Andy.
"You brat. You bastard. We'll see about that!" Larsen gritted his teeth in silence.
"What are you all staring at? Load that orc's cage onto the wagon and take it back to camp!" Larsen roared at his subordinates. He walked up to the cage and glared at the orc. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been humiliated!" He kicked the cage hard with his right foot.
"Get it loaded! Hurry!" Larsen barked.
The squad of Elves scrambled to load the cage onto the wagon. No one dared risk provoking Larsen now. They might get a lash of his whip for their trouble.
Once the cage was loaded, Larsen leaped onto his Sabers mount and urged it toward Darnassus's city gates.
Fuming and lost in thought, Larsen gradually fell back from the head of the squad to the rear, alongside the prison wagon carrying the orc. He glanced up without thinking, expecting to see the road ahead, but instead found an ugly orcish face baring its teeth at him. Disgust and irritation surged through Larsen, and he raised his whip and lashed the orc hard.
The whip cracked, and a string of sparks burst from the orc's body. The Sentinel Unit's weapons were enchanted, and the whip was no exception. The orc roared inside the cage, its face twisted with rage.
"Keep making noise! I'll teach you to make noise!" Larsen kept lashing him. "You dare glare at me? You dare threaten me? Keep making noise!"
"Captain! Captain!" One soldier braved the risk of getting whipped and hurried to Larsen's side. "Captain, stop! Something doesn't seem right!"
"Mind your own business! What do you mean, not right?" Larsen muttered, then suddenly stopped. "What's not right?"
"Look at the orc!" The soldier pointed at the cage.
Larsen took one look, and cold sweat broke out across his face. The orc in the cage had grown noticeably larger, and its roars were getting louder. The veins bulged on its two bound hands. With a bang, the thick iron chain snapped. The orc seized the bars with both hands and shook them violently. The bars were visibly bending, and panic seized Larsen.
"Quick, someone! Kill him!" Larsen shouted.
"Captain, weren't we told not to kill him?" one Elf asked.
"That was in the city. We're outside the city now!" Larsen snapped. "Do you want to die? Look at him—he won't be easy to deal with."
Larsen was frantic. Seeing the orc like this, he couldn't even be sure they could take it down. "Hurry! Kill him!" he yelled, drawing his sword and charging forward. One of the orc's feet had already pushed through the bars of the cage.
Seeing their captain charge in, the other Elves drew their swords and bows and attacked the orc. However strong it was, it stood no chance against a whole squad of Elves, especially trapped inside a cage. In a matter of seconds, the orc collapsed inside. Dark red blood mixed with a pale green substance and flowed out.
"Captain, what should we do with the body?" one of the warriors asked.
"Take it to the eastern end of the road and throw it there. Let the beasts feed on it." Larsen wiped his sword on the orc's corpse.
Everyone answered in unison. Before long, they had abandoned the cage and wagon in the woods east of the road, and the squad of Elves set off again. After venting his anger, Larsen felt a little better. He led his subordinates at a gallop toward the Sentinel Unit's camp in Ashenvale.
One month later.
"Come on, everyone! We'll reach Darnassus before dark, so put your backs into it!" Hawkins, the caravan's owner, shouted. The young men under him called back in unison.
Hawkins was a caravan owner from Dolanaar. He'd been traveling this road for nearly thirty years and knew everything about it like the back of his hand.
"Boss, can we take two days off once we reach Darnassus?" one young man called.
"Pilias, are you missing your sweetheart again?" a middle-aged driver teased. The Elves burst into laughter. The young Elf named Pilias was already dark-complexioned, but now a flush spread across one side of his face, making it even redder.
"Pilias, why are you blushing?" Hawkins laughed from the middle wagon. "You think you're the only one? Ask them—who doesn't miss their sweetheart?"
Hawkins's remark left everyone laughing awkwardly. Pilias was so stunned he couldn't get a word out.
"Roar!"
"What was that?" Hawkins stood and looked around, but saw nothing. He sat back down.
"Probably some kind of beast," Pilias said.
Suddenly, a stone hammer shot out of the woods with a whoosh and struck Pilias in the lower leg. "Ah! My leg!" he cried, collapsing to the ground in agony.
"Pilias!" Hawkins stood and ordered the caravan to stop.
Another stone hammer came spinning through the air toward Hawkins. Hearing it whistle, he quickly dove beneath the wagon. The hammer flew over his head, knocking off his pointed hat. Thank goodness, Hawkins thought. He scrambled up and ran to Pilias's side. "How are you?"
"Boss, my leg's broken!" Pilias's face twisted in pain, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
"Damn it, who's attacking us?" The middle-aged man hurriedly jumped down, pulled a spear from the wagon, and pressed his back against it as he cursed.
"Roar!" After a howl, two or three dozen monsters with bear heads and claws charged out of the woods on both sides. They clutched stone hammers and spears in their paws, roaring with their huge mouths agape as they rushed at the caravan.
"Prepare to fight! Prepare to fight! Furbolgs!" Hawkins shouted, quickly drawing his sword.
The Furbolgs roared and swung their stone hammers from side to side. The Elves were weaker than they were, and in just one clash, three or four were knocked to the ground. Hawkins calmly directed his men to fight back, all the while trying to figure out how they could break through.
Hawkins fought while retreating. He realized that his men were surrounded, with their wagons right behind them. "Eric, you're the fastest. We'll open a gap for you. Get to Darnassus and call for reinforcements!"
"Boss, what about you—" Eric began, but Hawkins cut him off with a shout. "Go! Darnassus isn't far from here. Hurry up, stop dawdling!"
Eric's eyes reddened. He pressed his lips together and nodded. Hawkins and the others shouted as they forced open a gap. Amid the chaos, Eric dashed through.
Hawkins watched the gap close and Eric run off into the distance. He shouted with all his strength, "Eric, my life and fortune are in your hands!"
Eric heard the cry from far away. At last, tears welled in his eyes. "Boss, you'd better hold out until I get back!" he murmured.
Before you continue