Harassment

Rain fell on the silent forest, as if the sky itself were weeping for the land below. Nathanos returned to the last place he had ever been. He had to come back; here lay things he needed to protect, and here lay his sins.

When he arrived at the South Wall Gate, he knew he had reached Quel'Thalas, but as he passed through the ruins of the gate, he almost thought he was still in Lordaeron.

Here, darkness reigns, the Undead roam freely, and there is hardly any trace of the Elf's activity. Due to the environment, Nathanos dislikes being here; the ground is littered with the "masterpieces" of the Scourge's slaughter, but he doesn't need to hide; he can even swagger through this place. The Undead don't have a habit of killing each other. Even with the Lich King's weakened control over them, they at most roam the wilderness like wolves, attacking any living beings they encounter. The Deatholme, which Arthas built here, and the Death Pit he created, have become the Undead's domain.

This is it. A voice inside him told him that, though it wasn't his intention, Nathanos clearly knew his hands were stained with the blood of his loved ones. Around him were many traces of that battle: weapons scattered everywhere, ballistae broken into pieces, and bones strewn about.

He knelt down on one knee without a word, closing his eyes to sense the spirits of the dead here. So much time had passed, and he still couldn't find his mother's remains.

"Forgive me, Mother," Nathanos said, tormented by the conflicting desires of both his mother Daphne's spirit and her peace.

Nathanos frowned. He was meditating and repenting, silently reciting the eulogies he had learned in the monastery as a child. But a bark interrupted his thoughts. There couldn't be any living creatures here, so it must be the resurrected Undead Hound harassing him. At first, he ignored them, thinking these restless beasts would wisely leave after seeing his lack of response. But the barking, again and again, wore down Nathanos's patience. Finally, he looked up in exasperation and found that the harassers were two creatures, both covered in unhealed wounds and festering sores. Nathanos was puzzled; the wandering Undead here would automatically give way to him, so why weren't these two dogs afraid?

"Get out of my way, I don't have time to play games!" He glared at the two little ones, but instead of running over as he expected, they both took a step forward at the same time.

Got it! They've made him their meal.

Since that's the case, Nathanos decided to make an example of him; if it could keep other Undead away from him, he wouldn't mind wasting a couple of arrows.

"I'll say it again! Get out of here!" he drew back the bowstring and threatened.

This time it worked. Although the two dogs behaved in a puzzling way, they weren't stupid—at least they were aware of the danger of the arrows.

After chasing away the troublemaker, Nathanos crouched down. Having resolved his earlier annoyance, he once again began to silently pray, seeking solace in the shadow of his and his mother's deaths.

After a long while, he stood up, preparing to go to his next destination— Windrunner Tower. He wasn't sure if he would see Alleria there; if the forest was in such bad shape, then the Windrunner's homeland probably wasn't much better. Nathanos looked around and was surprised to find the two dogs loitering not far away, their eyes fixed on him.

"What a persistent guy."

Lor'themar Theron, Ranger-Lord Quel'Thalas, former lieutenant of Ranger-General Alleria Windrunner. He never imagined he would survive, let alone fulfill his duties. The shadows of the forest brought him a sense of peaceful silence, yet carried an undercurrent of death. When the Scourge swept through the area, he fought bravely, nearly losing his life. His good friend Halduron Brightwing, saved him, but even so, he paid a heavy price—he lost sight in his left eye.

Right now, Lor'themar, along with Ranger-Captain Halduron, is leading a squad of Ranger towards Windrunner Tower. This is an order from the newly appointed Ranger-General Vareesa, to scout out the situation there.

"No explanation needed; this mission already reveals Vareesa's ulterior motives." Halduron absentmindedly chopped down the branches blocking his path with his weapon. He was a handsome, slender Elf, Ranger who wore no cloak. His battle robe was embroidered with the Sin'dorei phoenix emblem. He had long, smooth, golden hair parted at his forehead.

"Shh, keep your voice down. It's not safe here; you could easily run into Undead," Lor'themar warned from behind, not wanting Halduron to continue his grumbling. Quel'Thalas needed unity from top to bottom. Such remarks would only create divisions within the Ranger force.

"To be honest, I really don't understand you, Lor'themar." Halduron glanced back at his best friend, only to be met with a puzzled look. "Why didn't you object when Prince Kael'thas appointed Vareesa as Ranger-General? Now it's time for someone more qualified and experienced to take on the responsibility."

He continued, "Although Vareesa is Alleria's sister, she has none of her sister's abilities. She became the leader of the Ranger entirely because of Alleria's prestige."

"I know what you mean, Halduron." Lor'themar shook his head. "It's not just you; many others believe I'm more suitable to succeed Ranger-General, even Alleria knows that. But if she chooses me over Vareesa, it's tantamount to telling everyone that Windrunner family is no longer the protector of the kingdom. In such a difficult time, do you think Lady Alleria would do that?"

The lengthy explanation finally calmed Halduron down. At the perfect time, they arrived safely at Windrunner Tower.

Over the years, Lor'themar and Halduron had visited this place, whether by military summons or invitations to celebratory feasts. But they had never seen it so desolate.

The shadow of death has not spared this place.

Lor'themar sighed inwardly, his one remaining eye gazing at the Banshee floating atop the tower. These ghostly creatures had once been his kin, but Arthas had twisted them into deformed beings.

"There can't possibly be any living people left here."

"Let's go back quickly, I don't want to stay here for another second..." Halduron hid behind a tree, confident in his experience that he was safe, but the arrow that suddenly emerged from the tree trunk not only interrupted him but also overturned his understanding.

In his panic, Halduron's only reaction was to stand there, staring wide-eyed at the arrow that was only an inch from his forehead.

"You idiot!" Lor'themar roared, pulling Halduron backward and throwing them both to the ground at the same time as another arrow pierced the tree.

"Enemy attack! Take cover!"