Flames of Maestra Outpost

Andy lay inside the tent temporarily erected by the elves, chewing on a blade of unknown grass. He stared at the top of the tent, appearing at first glance to be lost in thought.

In reality, this was not the case. Andy was scrutinizing the simulated attribute panel before his eyes. Although the elves had been forced to retreat into Ashenvale following the battle at Azshara Beach, the Orcs had not fared much better. Compared to Tyrande's injuries and the total collapse of the Orcs' magical forces, Andy was likely the only one who had reaped actual benefits from this great battle. After adding a full forty attribute points to his panel, his stats—aside from Agility, which had risen to sixty-five—had all reached sixty.

As Andy watched, an urge to burst into laughter welled up within him. Had the circumstances not been so inappropriate, he might have already been overcome with joy. Twenty Orcs—he had shot down twenty Orcs! Compared to before, he could clearly feel the strength in his hands and the newfound lightness of his body.

Tyrande's injuries were quite severe; she had been coughing incessantly of late. Although she covered her mouth with a handkerchief, Andy had still caught sight of that faint purple stain upon it. Andona had been sent to the rear; his body was extremely weak following that electric shock, and he could barely stand, let alone lead troops into battle. The one leading the troops now was his deputy, Major General Andrebos. He was also one of the few high-ranking officers to survive the beach battle.

Andrebos had tried to persuade Tyrande many times to return to Darnassus to recuperate. Tyrande, however, remained uneasy and continued to force herself to stay on the front lines. Her wounds would not heal quickly; unlike physical trauma that could be treated with simple remedies, her injuries were lingering magical damage. To fully recover, she would have to return to the Temple of Elune in Darnassus and soak in the Moonwell to neutralize the magical energy still ravaging her body.

Ten days later, the Talendis outpost, originally located at the border of Azshara and Ashenvale, was moved entirely into Ashenvale, right along the border line with Azshara. The scale of the outpost was expanded to that of a Sentinel Unit camp, with earthen walls reinforced by aggressive, sentient green plants stretching across the entire Ashenvale border.

Over these days, Andrebos had also gathered intelligence on the Orcs. Strangely enough, ever since they occupied Azshara Beach, the Orcs had made no further moves. They had simply occupied a fairly large village, developed it into their own camp, and maintained a subtle standoff with the elves.

The Orcs' lack of aggression played right into Andrebos's wishes, allowing these soldiers—who were fighting their first war against the elves—a chance to catch their breath. After all, who knew when those savage and fierce Orcs might strike again?

A month after the battle, Tyrande finally could not hold on any longer. The frequency of her coughing up blood increased until, finally, she was escorted back to Darnassus. Before leaving, she forced herself to inspect the camp one last time to boost the soldiers' morale. She then left Andy behind and took Hilar with her on the return journey. Her order to Andrebos was that Andy, being the only one familiar with the Orcs, should assist him in holding Ashenvale.

Andrebos did not seem to share this sentiment. He did not have a very good impression of Andy and was baffled as to why Tyrande would trust a teenager so much. He had seen Andy's performance on the beach clearly; he believed any of his own archers could have shot down twenty Orcs. Consequently, after Tyrande left, Andy was sidelined by Andrebos, to the point where he could only spend his days staring blankly at his tent. And this state of idleness lasted for half a year.

During those six months, the elven camp was further fortified. Tyrande also sent several priests under her command to fill the void in their magical forces, and two more elven units were transferred from the heart of Ashenvale to bolster Andrebos's manpower.

Compared to the elven camp, the Orcs' camp was much cruder. The perimeter wall was made of trees chopped from the nearby forest, sparsely planted as a fence. Small wooden huts were built throughout the camp, with only a massive wooden fortress in the center serving as the only decent structure.

Late one night, while Andy was deep in sleep, the sudden commotion outside his tent jolted him awake. Andy hurriedly grabbed his weapon, threw on some clothes, and ran out of the tent. He assumed that after six months of recuperation, the Orcs had launched a night attack.

"Hey, look over there!" A high platform outside the tent was already crowded with elven soldiers, all of them disheveled and pointing into the distance.

"Big brother, move aside!" Andy twisted his body, trying to squeeze into the crowd. "Hey, brother, let me through!"

Although Andy was no longer small, he was still a head shorter than these elven soldiers. Once he reached the front of the crowd, he saw the night sky in the distance glowing with a desolate, brilliant red; the soaring flames dyed half the sky.

"This... where is this?" Andy asked blankly.

"Maestra, that's the Maestra outpost!" an elven soldier beside him heard his question and replied in a low voice, arms crossed.

"What's going on?" Andy watched the raging fire, a sense of foreboding washing over him. Of course, no one answered his question; no one knew what had happened there, and they could only rely on their own guesses.

"Move aside, all of you!" A stern, authoritative shout came from behind the crowd.

"General!" Everyone turned to see Andrebos approaching from behind and offered a military salute.

Andrebos ignored them and walked straight to the front of the crowd. He, too, saw the fire at Maestra. Andrebos pursed his lips, frowned as he scanned the crowd, and finally sighed. "Everyone, disperse!"

Just as the crowd was preparing to return to their tents, a soldier suddenly shouted, "Look!"

Andy turned at the sound and saw the red glow in the sky suddenly erupt with a deep green color, shooting straight into the heavens. Then, like fireworks scattering, it fell toward the ground. The earth seemed to tremble, and the fire at Maestra erupted with a blue light before slowly fading into silence.

This was destined to be a sleepless night. When that green flame shot into the sky, Andy had wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. But the flame was so striking against the night sky! It shouldn't be; Maestra was in the heart of Ashenvale—how could this happen?

Andrebos's expression was grave as he watched the dying flames. After thinking for a long time, he dismissed the onlookers and returned to his own tent. But there would be no sleep for anyone tonight; just like someone else, he was unable to find rest.

A ray of morning sunlight shone into Andy's tent, but he had not yet risen. Since Andrebos had sidelined him, neither giving him tasks nor paying him any mind, Andy had become somewhat slack over the past six months, sleeping until the sun was high before getting up.

"Andy, Andy!" Saria, that big, cowardly elf, ran in to wake him.

"Saria, don't you know that disturbing someone's sleep is very impolite?" Andy rubbed his groggy eyes and said.

"Alright, stop talking nonsense!" Saria said anxiously. "General Andrebos is looking for you. If you don't want to be whipped, get to the main tent immediately!"

Andy muttered something, put on his clothes, haphazardly fastened his buttons, and followed Saria to Andrebos's command tent. Andrebos watched Andy walk in lazily, his face extremely grim. "Look at the state of you! You haven't even buttoned your trousers properly!"

Andy glanced down at his open fly, gave a sheepish laugh, and hurriedly fastened the buttons.

Andrebos's anger flared, but he ultimately suppressed it and said, "Andy, you saw the situation at Maestra yesterday. Orders just arrived from Darnassus: the outposts are short-handed and unable to handle emergencies, so the main camp is to send people to investigate the situation at Maestra."

Andrebos glanced at the distracted Andy and said with dissatisfaction, "Are you even listening to me?"

"Ah, yes! Yes, I am. It's just sending people to investigate Maestra, right?" Andy replied.

"The point is that my defenses here cannot be compromised, so..." Andrebos looked at Andy. "So I have to send you. You are the only one without a defensive assignment."

Andy jerked his head up and looked at the general. "Just me alone?"

"Of course not, there is a squad of scouts. You will go together!" Andrebos said.

"When do we depart?" Andy asked.

"Today!" Andrebos said with a sigh of relief; he had been worried Andy might refuse. If he did, he truly would have had no other options.

"Fine!" Andy agreed, turned, and walked out of the tent to pack his things.

By the time Andy finished packing and stepped out, the scout squad was already waiting outside, and their leader clearly looked impatient.

"Alright, we can go!" Andy called out and walked toward an empty Nightsaber mount.

The leader turned around, intending to make a sarcastic remark, but he froze in his tracks: "It's you!"