Craftsmanship

Besides the bow and arrows left behind by the female elf, Nathanos also searched the Troll's corpse.

Wait, don't touch the boss's corpse. Let me do it.

Ha~, hurry up, then. Time is of the essence while it's still fresh. I've even got my camera ready.

Don't let your hands turn black, or you'll never get to open equipment for the rest of your life.

He found only some beast bones used for rituals and a Voodoo Doll. They were of little use to him, but Nathanos was very curious. Why had that female elf taken his little knife?

As dusk fell, Nathanos returned to Marius Farm just in time for dinner. To avoid being discovered, he hid the materials in a crack in a tree by the Sodori River. He still needed to prepare the bowstring that night. Nathanos had learned that the best material was animal sinew, with cow sinew being the finest.

The next day, he headed out with the design for the Bloodwood Hunting Bow and the red dye he had bought in Stratholme. In just an hour, Nathanos turned the blueprint into reality. He tested the bowstring by drawing it fully several times. It did not snap. Perfect. He smiled without realizing it, then found some branches and polished them into the shape of arrows. Once he had finished everything, Nathanos impatiently gave it a try. His arrows flew far, but even though the arrowheads had been sharpened to a keen edge, they bounced easily off tree trunks and stones without leaving even the slightest mark.

That result did not satisfy Nathanos. He drew his bow again, but this time, he used the female elf's bow and arrows. He wanted to know whether the problem lay in his smithing skills or in the bow and arrows themselves. Aiming at the same large boulder, Nathanos released his right hand. The arrow tore through the air and pierced straight through the stone.

"Just as I thought!" Nathanos said. The problem was with the bow and arrows, but the effect exceeded anything he had imagined. What kind of craftsmanship could create such bow and arrows?

"Looks like not every elf likes refinement. Some of them have smithing knowledge no less impressive than humans, or even Dwarves."

Next, he planned to properly study the forging techniques behind these bow and arrows. His parents would certainly oppose him making weapons, so Nathanos could only secretly store these "treasures" in a hidden place nearby. From that day onward, he had new tasks: practicing his shooting skills and studying elven forging techniques.

It took a whole day to finish everything, and Nathanos returned home before sunset. Jonathan was coming over for dinner that day. In the past, he had always come with Aunt Sally, but this time there was one more person: Nathanos's cousin, Stephen Maris. The little fellow was only two years old, but he loved spending time with his older brother. Nathanos felt the same way. He loved taking Stephen by the hand and showing him around the entire house.

"Nathanos, Lord Uther asked when you would be returning to Lordaeron?" Jonathan asked during dinner.

Nathanos glanced at his parents. They did not seem displeased, so the boy answered readily, "In a week, Uncle. I miss Lordaeron too. There are still things there that I want to learn about."

Jonathan nodded and looked at him curiously. "Do you know? Everyone in Lordaeron has been talking about how you returned from Alterac. They all think it's unbelievable."

His uncle's words brought Nathanos's thoughts back to that crisis two years ago. Even now, he could not forget Alterac's biting cold or that savage, starving wolf.

"That was two years ago, Uncle."

"But you still haven't told us how you did it, or why you fell off the cliff."

Bred asked the question. Jonathan had wanted to ask it as well. Every answer Nathanos gave seemed like a perfunctory brush-off.

"That isn't important anymore. I came back, didn't I? Isn't that enough?" He smiled, and his father and uncle fell silent for a moment. Yes, Nathanos's return was the best outcome. The rest of it did not matter.

At the mention of that matter, an odious figure appeared in Nathanos's mind—Gray Maynes. It was not that Nathanos had never considered revenge. He also knew that his relationship with Gray might remain hostile forever. Nathanos had not acted because he had more important things to do now, and Gray was only a child. Lordaeron had no absolutely strict law enforcement agency; they valued human nature greatly. Even if he exposed Gray, the other boy would not receive much punishment. At most, he would be confined, while his father might merely be demoted. But Gray's father knew how to maneuver through official circles. It was even possible that he could emerge completely unscathed in the end.

In short, Nathanos would not take the initiative to cause trouble for Gray. He would keep waiting for an opportunity—an opportunity to utterly crush Gray. An excellent hunter could remain in the same place for days while waiting for prey. Nathanos knew that he was such a hunter now.

Quel'Thalas, Windrunner Tower

Sylvanas Windrunner, the second daughter of the Windrunner family and a Ranger-General of Silvermoon City on par with Alleria, had not gone to the military camp to train the Farstriders that day. Instead, she had gone elsewhere before returning to Windrunner Tower. She pushed open her door, hung her light-blue cloak on the rack (appearance based on the Heroes of the Storm CG), removed the chainmail from her shoulders, and took out the little knife she had examined for several days. This little thing had saved her once. Sylvanas kept recalling what had happened that day. She somewhat regretted not inspecting that tree more carefully at the time. Worried that more Trolls might appear, she had immediately returned to her territory.

The knife was somewhat crudely made, and there were even wood shavings on its blade. Sylvanas had looked through records and learned that it was a handmade human knife, specifically used for carving and pruning plants. Without a doubt, it could not have belonged to a Troll, and elves would not possess such a crude item either. It was human-made, Sylvanas was certain. An outsider had appeared in Eversong Forest, yet that also seemed unbelievable to her. The place where she had fought the Troll was already deep within the jungle. How had the knife's owner reached that place? Had he avoided every trap? And the forest's terrain was intricate and confusing. Had that human not gotten lost?

The reason Sylvanas had not trained the troops that day was because she had returned once more to the place where yesterday's battle had taken place. She found that the Troll's cold corpse was still lying there, but all the arrows she had used to attack it were gone. Someone had taken her things. Sylvanas searched the surrounding area and discovered a small footprint in a patch of standing water. At first, she thought it belonged to a woman, but it looked as though it had been left by riding boots. Whether among human Kings, elves, or even Dwarves, women would not wear such shoes. It was a child. Sylvanas was astonished. A human child—she could hardly believe the discovery, but it also made her intensely curious. Just which little troublemaker had come here?