"Still no treatises by Lord Al?"
Nielas Aran walked out of a newsstand in disappointment. This was already his third visit to the newsstand this month, but he had failed to buy what he wanted every time.
"Stormwind City is still too remote. What a shame..."
The Archmage rubbed his brow in frustration and headed toward the city's only mage tower.
Nielas Aran's talent for arcane magic was exceedingly rare even in Dalaran, humanity's capital of magic.
He had reached the rank of sixth-circle Archmage at thirty. Antonidas had invited him to join the Council of Six several times, but he had politely declined them all.
This was simply because King Barathen Wrynn was his closest friend, a childhood companion he had grown up sharing everything with. Thus, Nielas Aran had decided to stay in Stormwind City and devote himself to assisting the royal House of Wrynn.
"Good day, Chief..."
"May the Holy Light be with you..."
Every guard and noble he met along the way greeted the young chief court mage with a bow. Nielas Aran returned each greeting and soon arrived back at his mage tower.
Although he was Stormwind City's chief mage, the resources allocated to Nielas Aran were far from adequate.
This ancient nation had only emerged from the shadow of war a little over a decade ago.
Barathen Wrynn had used the death of the Gnoll king Garfang to incite infighting throughout the Gnoll tribes and had won the final victory.
But years of self-sufficient living had left the entire Kingdom of Azeroth inclined toward isolationism.
Barathen had decided to change the Kingdom of Azeroth's fate, so he had begun actively establishing diplomatic relations and trade with other nations and expanding trade routes. Only then had this tottering ancient nation recovered much of its vitality.
In recent years, however, the Gurubashi Troll kingdom to the south had begun stirring restlessly.
His Majesty Barathen had no choice but to send more troops to the border. Military expenditure worsened the Kingdom of Azeroth's already troubled economy. Not only court mages like Nielas Aran, but the entire royal family and senior leadership had tightened their belts.
The research room's facilities were nothing to speak of, but they were spotless. The entire laboratory had gleaming windows and clean furnishings, and its scattered collection of books was neatly arranged on shelves along the walls.
Beside the windowsill stood a low iron cage. Inside, a Bloodpetal flailed and bared its teeth, hissing at the Archmage.
The sight of the snarling little thing instantly lifted Nielas Aran's disappointed mood.
Archmage Nielas Aran laughed heartily and took a thick stack of newspapers from the bookshelf.
He carefully took a vial of potion glowing faintly gold from the spatial backpack he carried. With a pang at the expense, he poured out a single drop and smeared it over the Bloodpetal's petals. Smoke immediately filled the room.
With a dazed expression, Nielas Aran inhaled deeply.
"Ahh...
That's the smell..."
A long while later, Nielas Aran began leafing through the newspapers from years past, savoring the latest issue.
It contained a discourse Kael'thas Sunstrider had compiled for Master Al, but even this latest discourse was already three months old-a clear indication of how scarce resources were in Stormwind City.
He turned the old newspaper to its final page, where enormous, bright red letters in human Common leaped from the paper.
Strong youths make for strong arcane magic!
"Master Al is nothing less than a founding figure in the history of arcane development. Just how noble must his character be to deliver such memorable, stirring words?"
Nielas Aran gazed out the window with a look of yearning.
Just then, a white carrier pigeon fluttered down onto his hand, startling the Archmage from his reverie.
With practiced ease, he removed the note from the pigeon's leg and examined it closely.
"Ha, I knew it would be that fellow Barathen..."
Nielas Aran chuckled, shook his head, and continued reading.
"Magna Aegwynn? That madwoman who defected from the Council of Tirisfal? What is she here for?"
Frowning, Nielas Aran finished reading the message His Majesty had sent him.
He sighed deeply, took a presentable mage robe from his wardrobe, and changed into it before heading toward the kingdom's central hub, Stormwind Keep.
"Old friend, you're finally here."
Barathen was in his thirties. Years of affairs of state had bent his back somewhat, but his naturally imposing face displayed the majesty of a nation's ruler.
"Greetings, Your Majesty."
Nielas Aran bent forward and bowed to His Majesty Wrynn, but his waggling eyebrows and comical expression made it clear how close he was to the Lionheart King.
"You, honestly..."
Barathen chuckled and pointed at the Archmage before leading the way.
Nielas Aran followed a step behind, reporting to the Lionheart King on some recent research results and the progress of training lower-ranking mages.
"Your Majesty, I believe our research into Bloodpetals and Jinkela needs your funding. This is of paramount importance to our resource-starved mage forces."
"Alas, those tusked Gurubashi beasts have been making frequent moves lately. Scouts at the front have sent word that small groups of Troll scouts have already begun advancing toward Brightwood..."
The Lionheart King poured out his troubles to his chief court mage with a bitter expression. The two men's cheerful faces grew clouded with worry.
"Without funding, our mage forces won't be able to resist those Troll spellcasters as organized units. This is an enormous danger!"
Unwilling to give up, Nielas Aran argued his case.
"The treasury is so empty you could race horses through it, Nielas Aran..."
Barathen's expression was grim as he continued:
"I know it's a vicious cycle too, but we have no way back now..."
"But those nobles!"
Nielas Aran raised his voice, his face flushed, but before he could finish, the Lionheart King cut him off sharply.
"Shut up! The nobles are the foundation of the nation. Without the nobles, we are nothing! Do you know what you're saying, Nielas?"
The king glared sternly at his longtime friend, but Nielas Aran saw conflict and pain in his eyes-the helplessness of being unable to change anything or do anything.
"My apologies, Your Majesty..."
The Archmage lowered his head meekly, but his clenched hands betrayed the anger within him.
Being a court mage can't save the nation...
A bold idea suddenly occurred to the Archmage.
Even the longest corridor had an end. Amid this awkward, tense atmosphere, king and subject entered Stormwind Keep's hall.
But to Nielas Aran's disbelief, a human woman was actually lounging sideways on the king's throne. His disbelief soon turned to burning fury.
"Insolent wretch! Who are you to dare sit on the Lionheart Throne!"
Just as Nielas Aran was about to chant a spell and teach the reckless madwoman on the throne a lesson, Barathen stopped him.
"Do not be rude, Lord Nielas. This is my honored guest, Lady Magna Aegwynn."
The Lionheart King turned and loudly rebuked the Archmage, but from the bulging veins on Barathen's forehead, Nielas Aran could tell that his longtime friend was on the verge of erupting.
"Hehe, I wondered who it was. So the little lion has arrived. Is this the man I asked for?"
Aegwynn stretched languidly with captivating grace, displaying her shapely figure before the two men.
What Nielas Aran did not know was that his nightmare had arrived.
PS: Thank you to reader Reading Novels 666 for the tip. So generous, my lord~
None of the characters or names appearing in this story were made up, nor were they copied and pasted from Baidu. Every one of them can be traced to a source, so keep those sharp eyes open, my lords...
Those of you interested in Warcraft's chronicles can check out the official comics and novels. There are plenty of interesting stories from before the Dark Portal. Attentive readers may find readable books scattered on tables or bookshelves while playing the game.
This chapter lays some groundwork for the future Troll war. Please keep reading patiently, my dear readers.