When the first ray of morning sunlight broke through in the east, the entire Arathi Highlands slowly woke from its slumber.
The camp in the southern hills was already bustling.
The Syndicate soldiers began gathering with their weapons and armor.
According to the original plan, they would attack Stromgarde later that morning, so they had to prepare as early as possible.
Although attacking at night seemed like a better choice, the operation had been put together in such a hurry that completing the basic muster last night was already an accomplishment.
They also needed more time for their "inside agents" in Stromgarde to make more thorough arrangements.
"Stark? Stark?" a Syndicate lieutenant shouted outside a tent. "Has anyone seen Stark and his squad?"
"No, sir. They were on night patrol yesterday, but I was asleep then, so I don't know when they left," a sergeant answered, rubbing his bleary eyes.
"Which squad was scheduled to patrol after them?"
"My squad, sir," a soldier with an afro said loudly. "I never saw them come back. I thought they'd gone straight back to bed, so I took my men out on patrol."
The afro-haired soldier wasn't telling the truth-or at least not the whole truth. They had left for patrol at least half an hour later than usual last night. Thinking he'd gotten away with something, he had taken his men out without checking in with Stark.
The lieutenant began to suspect something was wrong.
Stark and his men were Syndicate veterans. They were unlikely to suddenly desert.
If they had disappeared during their patrol, however, an enemy might have been responsible.
And if there were enemies around, their planned attack on Stromgarde might already have been exposed. There might even be enemies lying in ambush nearby, waiting for an opportunity to