Advancing on Tor'watha (I)

"However, Lanlos." Just as the young mage was still surprised by the other man's name, Lor'themar's expression turned serious again. "You need to understand, this isn't a job. This is war!"

Watching Lor'themar lead everyone onward, Lanlos smiled faintly and murmured, "For me, it's just a job."

The command room was very bare. Aside from a map covered in markings and pinned firmly to the table with a dagger, there was almost nothing else. It was clear the Trolls' attack had come as a complete surprise. No one had expected to encounter these monsters so close to Silvermoon City.

"The first encounter with the Trolls was yesterday. Their ambush was so swift that the entire patrol nearly got wiped out."

"To prevent anything like that from happening again, I sent out scouts right away. We've already gotten a rough idea of their patrol routes."

Pointing to the range of hills at the easternmost edge of Quel'Thalas, Lor'themar furrowed his golden brows. "These Trolls aren't acting on their own. They're organized and disciplined. If I'm right, they have a secret camp hidden somewhere in these hills."

"A secret camp? How many of them?"

Everyone turned to Lanlos. Other than Lor'themar, the several mages all looked astonished, as if they couldn't believe the young man had dared to ignore them and ask a question.

"We can't be sure yet. I'd originally planned to ask Landral for some spellcasters capable of scouting this area, but I didn't expect..." Lor'themar looked over the mages one by one and sighed softly.

The dismissive gesture enraged some of them.

"Captain, mind your words. Landral and the Magisters are busy safeguarding the Sanctum. That's far more important than a few insignificant Trolls."

The spellcaster at the head shot Lanlos an angry glance, then shouted at Lor'themar without a shred of restraint. The latter acted as if he hadn't heard and turned his gaze to Lanlos. "And it looks like you have some differences with them."

"Just a minor issue." Lanlos shrugged, not bothering to care about their aloofness and hostility.

"I hope so." Lor'themar nodded and returned to the matter at hand. "We'll launch a surprise attack on the Trolls at dawn tomorrow. Before then, I'll take a scouting party to determine their movements and the size of their camp."

He looked over the five mages before him and asked, "Which of you is willing to come with me?"

No one answered. The other four mages once again turned in perfect unison to look at Lanlos, making Lor'themar's gaze settle on him.

Lanlos met the other man's gaze without a flicker of hesitation, utterly calm. Seeing this, Lor'themar, who had been frowning the whole time, finally relaxed. "Good. You're coming, Lanlos."

"No problem." Ignoring the gloating looks around him, the young mage nodded slowly. His calm exterior betrayed no emotion.

Verien had been one of the Eastern Temple's earliest apprentices. Compared to Landral's other apprentices, his command of the Arcane was simply appalling. Yet he seemed to have no idea of his own shortcomings, blaming them all on the Magister's favoritism in allocating resources.

He had been resigned to muddling through life in the Sanctum, but then Magister Landral had personally named him and made him the leader of the mage squad sent to support the Farstriders. As his colleagues—who used to mock him behind his back—showered him with praise along the way, Verien had nearly let it go to his head.

Of course, he hadn't forgotten that brat who dared talk back to Lady Landral. If the other man hadn't had Vereesa backing him, Lanlos's journey so far wouldn't have been so peaceful.

Now, though, he had his chance to teach the brat a lesson. A scout? He'd be walking straight to his death!

Lanlos glanced at Verien, who was glaring at him viciously. His brows knitted, and he was about to speak when the mage quickly looked away. Lanlos smiled to himself and continued listening closely to Lor'themar's briefing.

He knew what the other man was thinking. Scouting was a role that tested one's individual abilities. Without the necessary skills, it was easy to expose yourself and end up surrounded by the enemy. Verien, at least, couldn't guarantee he'd make it through the mission alive.

But he had one thing wrong. The reason Lanlos hadn't become the leader wasn't a lack of strength or brains.

Besides, as mentioned earlier, the Farstrider Enclave's available manpower consisted mostly of recruits and wounded veterans nearing retirement. Compared to the Trolls who had slipped past the front-line elves, they weren't up to the task of this reconnaissance mission. The only ones capable of doing the job were Lor'themar and his team.

"Come meet my deputy, Lanlos. This is Halduron." Lor'themar gestured to the man entering through the door and spoke to Lanlos.

Lanlos turned around. A dazzling gleam seemed to meet his eyes, making him squint.

Long golden hair swayed gently in the breeze, held back by a delicately patterned hairband that just barely kept it from obscuring his face and vision. His red-and-gold full suit of mail wasn't all that different from Lor'themar's, but on closer inspection, elaborate patterns had been engraved on the edges of his pauldrons and along the sides of his breastplate.

With that radiant, flower-like smile on his handsome face, anyone who didn't know him would never have guessed he was a man.

"Hello, Lanlos. I hope we'll work well together on the mission ahead." Unlike Lor'themar's stern seriousness, Halduron was almost excessively amiable. But Lanlos didn't find anything wrong with that.

On the contrary, to him, this was what a ranger was supposed to be like. This was what a High Elf ranger should be: relaxed, easygoing, and free. Even a simple introduction left Lanlos feeling as if a gentle breeze had passed over him—light, graceful, and refreshing.

"I look forward to working with you." Lanlos smiled, clasped Halduron's right hand firmly, and gave his shoulder a light touch.

At the sight, Lor'themar's lips lifted of their own accord. Spellcasters wielded powerful, mysterious magic. Even in Quel'Thalas, mages were respected. Unlike Verien's arrogance, Lanlos's warmth and respect were gratifying.

He was sure this mission would go smoothly.

Like Lor'themar, Lanlos was glad of his choice. Having capable teammates would greatly increase both their safety and their chances of success, whether they were scouting or handling some other task.

Night fell soon, but no one at the Farstrider Enclave went to bed as peacefully as usual. Fully armed, they set out for the eastern hills under cover of darkness.

"The Trolls' patrol range is just ahead. Remember, your job is to mark targets for the recruits. Don't alert the enemy unless there's no other choice." Lor'themar spoke quickly, so quickly that even Lanlos nearly failed to catch every word. But the others understood him easily, their rapport with him strong.

Seeing everyone nod, Lor'themar waved a hand. With a faint rustle, more than a dozen shadowy figures vanished from Lanlos's sight.

"You're coming with us." Lor'themar and Halduron had a different task from the others. With Lanlos's help, they would push deeper into the hills, hoping to find clues to the Trolls' camp—and perhaps its exact location.

As for how he would help...

Lanlos placed one hand on each man's shoulder. As he slowly recited the long, complex incantation, the faint light around the three of them rippled and warped. Seconds later, their figures vanished beneath the moonlight.

Invisibility. Lanlos had memorized the spell the first time he'd seen it.

"With my current abilities, the Invisibility will only last four minutes. If you can't cross the Trolls' blockade in that time, go to the rendezvous point and find me." No one was visible, but Lanlos's voice came from the shadows beneath a tree. He still held both men firmly by the shoulders.

"No problem. Watch for the signal. Once we're through the blockade, withdraw immediately." As soon as Lor'themar finished speaking, the contact against Lanlos's hands vanished. A breeze swept toward him, and he watched two indistinct silhouettes rapidly disappear.

Then he slowly made his way toward the woods he remembered.

That was the advantage of being a spellcaster. As long as he didn't make the first move, no one could find him, even if he stood right under the Trolls' noses.