"Your Highness, Your Highness, your Quel'dorei Golden Staff..."
Two pretty maids struggled to lift a golden scepter and rushed out of the mage tower.
"There's no more time to waste. Damn Antonidas, banning teleportation in Dalaran's inner city..."
Kael'thas ran through the ancient magical city without a thought for his dignity. Pale purple ripples appeared a short distance away from time to time as the prince repeatedly cast Blink.
Grand Astromancer Solarian covered her forehead helplessly. Faced with such a willful prince, she could only join in his madness.
She took the reins of a pink Hawkstrider from an attendant. It had been Prince Kael'thas's gift for her six-hundredth birthday.
Rising onto her toes, she swung nimbly onto the bird. Her voluminous dark purple robe was no encumbrance; instead, it added a splash of beauty.
Whistling wind swirled around the astromancer's sides.
"Your Highness, care for a ride?"
Solarian charmingly tucked a stray lock back from her temple and teased him.
Kael'thas looked startled at first, then slapped his forehead and stopped in embarrassment.
"Sorry, Solarian. I was too impatient."
Kael'thas gave a sheepish chuckle, took Solarian's offered hand, and seated himself behind her.
The astromancer's pretty face flushed slightly beneath her hood. She muttered something, but Kael'thas behind her was entirely unaware.
The Hillsbrad Foothills lay south of the Kingdom of Alterac and were among Duke Barov's fiefs.
This was a land of green hills and fertile pastures. Abundant rainfall created plenty of land suitable for farming, and nature's generosity also allowed Hillsbrad to be self-sufficient.
Gentle winds frequented the southern coast, allowing ships to enter and leave Southshore's docks smoothly. Murlocs of the Broken Fin haunted the beaches, while mountain lions, moss-eating spiders, and grizzly bears were also part of Hillsbrad's pastoral scenery.
That night.
For some reason, the Southsea Tavern, normally all but deserted, had run out of vacant rooms three days earlier.
"Hey, have you heard? Those legendary elves from the north are coming."
"You mean those long-eared, pale-skinned elves? Zaris, I never knew you were a third-rate bard!"
Martin the drunk let out a long belch and laughed.
The dwarves and humans at the neighboring tables all put down their mugs. Seeing Zaris's embarrassed expression, they burst out laughing too.
The little gnome Zaris stood up, ashamed and angry, and headed outside.
"Hey, watch yourself, buddy. Those tall steps could crack that clever little head of yours open."
Mocking laughter erupted in the tavern. Zaris slammed the door hard and stalked off.
Rumble... rumble.
Faint tremors came from the distance, catching the little gnome's attention.
"My heavens, th-that is..."
As though he had seen a ghost, Zaris stumbled and fell to the ground. Propping himself up with his two little hands, he kept backing away.
A long while later, a shrill cry unique to gnomes rang throughout Southshore.
"What happened? Who's there?"
Alterac guards who had heard the cry hurried to Zaris's side, carrying flickering oil lamps.
When Marshal Ford Redpath arrived, he found that the screaming gnome had already fainted. He quickly put down his standard-issue longsword and moved to check on him.
Rumble... rumble.
Just then, the tremors grew stronger. Redpath looked up and saw something he would never forget.
"Mommy, I think I see the light..."
Redpath rubbed his eyes in disbelief, then fumbled for the whistle hanging around his neck and blew it.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
The piercing whistle and Redpath's booming voice woke the entire sleeping town. Before long, scattered guards and adventurers had all come running.
"Damn it, are those Alterac yetis attacking town again?"
A recruit quietly asked the captain beside him.
"Look... look... over there."
Everyone looked in confusion toward where Redpath was pointing. The noisy town fell so silent that a pin could have been heard dropping.
With a dull clang, the recruit's Alterac eagle shield slipped from his grasp.
Like hot oil poured into water, the clattering of heavy objects hitting the ground rang out without end.
"Run!"
Someone shouted, and the people frozen in shock scattered in all directions, leaving only poor Zaris the gnome lying on the ground.
Beneath the pitch-black night sky, two dazzling beams like searchlights swept across the camp. The deafening rumbling drew steadily closer, and Type Zero's enormous hatch slowly opened. Al and Hemet jumped down.
"Huh? Where is everyone? Isn't this Southshore? Did we get the wrong place?"
Al scratched his head in confusion, looking around the silent town.
"My lord, look. There's a gnome here."
Hemet deftly hauled the unconscious Zaris up from the ground.
"Is he breathing? Wake him up."
"Sure thing."
Hemet rubbed his hands excitedly and made a few gestures over the gnome's face.
"Forget it. I'll do it."
Exasperated, Al summoned a ball of water that floated gently down onto the gnome's head.
Splash.
Every last drop of the clear magical spring water poured over the gnome's head, but strangely, he showed no reaction.
Mommy, is this an elf? Are elves all man-eating monsters?
Zaris, who had long since awakened, kept his eyes tightly shut. His mind was full of the horror stories his mother had told him as a child.
"You do it after all."
"Sure thing."
The old dwarf, his face full of menace, began rubbing his hands. The pent-up anger in his heart finally had an outlet.
His palm-leaf-fan-sized hands rained slaps onto the little gnome's face, making Al break out in goosebumps.
"Pwease... shtop hitting me, shtop hitting me."
The little gnome's cheeks were badly swollen, and his pleas came out slurred.
Al waved Hemet to a halt and asked:
"Is this Southshore? Why are you the only one here?"
Hearing Al's gentle questions, the little gnome finally felt a weight lift from his heart. Holding back tears, he said quietly:
"It ish Southshore. They... they..."
"Hmm?"
Hemet gave a heavy snort and raised his hand again.
"I... I don't know."
Tears streamed down Zaris's face as he looked pleadingly at Al.
"All right. I'm just a traveler who's lost his way. Could you tell me how to get to the inn?"
Early the next morning.
Pale purple light flickered in an open space in Southshore's square. Moments later, a portal gradually took shape, and Kael'thas hurried out with his retinue.
"I hope I'm not too late..."
Kael'thas's brows were tightly furrowed. Solarian, Anasterian Sunstrider, and the others following close behind hardly dared breathe. They stood nervously behind him, afraid that the normally good-tempered prince would take his anger out on them.
"Th-this is..."
Kael'thas stared in shock at Type Zero in the distance. The enormous robot looked as though it could scrape the clouds.
"Yaaawn."
Hemet emerged from the tavern with a yawn. Last night had been the best sleep he had ever had. There had been no Lord Al scolding him and no enormous dinosaur weighing dozens of tons. That night's sleep seemed to have given him a new lease on life.
Rubbing his bleary eyes, Hemet looked up.
And just like that, the two stared at each other.
"Ha! The first person I see today is actually a barbaric dwarf?"
Kael'thas complained to the attendants beside him, and the elves echoed him with mocking laughter.
"You long-eared sissy, want a taste of Grandpa Hemet's iron fists?"
The old dwarf flexed his biceps indignantly, then made a rude gesture at the elves.
"Old He, did you sleep well last night?"
Al's sinister voice sounded beside Hemet's ear. Oblivious, the old dwarf rubbed his ear and said casually:
"Without Lord Al's roaring, it really felt a little un... unusual. L-Lord Al, when did you get here?"
Hemet turned his head stiffly, only to be greeted by the boy's strange, artificial smile.
"Ever since you said 'long-eared sissy.' It's fine. Someone as magnanimous as me wouldn't care about idle remarks."
Al's smile was radiant, but the old dwarf's heart was bleeding. With a thud, he dropped to his knees in an ORZ pose, looking as though he had nothing left to live for.
"Are you Prince Kael'thas? My subordinate doesn't know any better. Forgive his rudeness."
Al bent slightly at the waist and bowed to the prince in the distance.
"Mr... Al, no, no, Master Al, you're being far too kind."
The normally poised and dignified prince seemed like an entirely different person as he waved his hands awkwardly, his eyes filled with fervor as he looked at Al.
"Let's go inside first. It's windy out here."
Al extended a hand gracefully, inviting the prince to follow him inside.
Kael'thas fidgeted stiffly with his cuffs, excited and nervous. He motioned for the attendants beside him to remain outside; the little tavern could not hold so many people.
The group entered the empty tavern. The civilians and adventurers who had scrambled to flee for their lives last night had yet to return.
"Hemet, get out!"
Hemet jolted and looked at the boy in confusion.
"Who said you could step through the door with your left foot first?"
Hemet: What happened to not holding a grudge?