Since they entered troll territory, the weather had grown steadily gloomier. If it rained, the rangers' bowstrings and the blade throwers' torsion shafts would grow damp and slack, greatly reducing their tension.
Vereesa had brought three spare bowstrings, but one had worn out yesterday, leaving only two. "If it rains..." She felt a little frustrated by her inexperience. "I should have brought at least five spares."
"Sister Vereesa, have you found anything? All I have here are a few pieces of metal and some animal carcasses."
"I haven't found anything here. The trolls haven't stored any food," Vereesa replied to her comrade. "Brother Sandien, should we keep looking? A settlement this large can't possibly have no food."
The Farstriders addressed one another as brothers and sisters. They were searching for food not because the army lacked provisions, but because Shane had suggested judging how the trolls were responding to the elves' offensive by the size of their food reserves.
Vereesa did not understand how to judge that, but whatever Shane said, she felt he was absolutely right. The thought that her elder sister surely understood his reasoning left her feeling sulky.
With a thump, she kicked aside a bundle of kindling. A green blur darted past her and fled into the distance.
"There's still a living troll!" She drew her bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at the green figure. Then she hesitated. It was a troll child. After holding her aim for quite some time, she finally lowered her bow.
"Sister Vereesa."
"Brother Sandien, I..."
"No, you did well. Remember, we are the shield and sword of Quel'Thalas, not butchers. War turns people into beasts. You must hold fast to your will and never let it strip away everything good in you."
Her captain's words eased much of the