"I do not know if they will listen," Sylvanas warned. "They are too busy worrying about these fires to consider much else right now. As am I. They are appearing all across the forest, seemingly at random." She glanced pointedly at the dead trolls. "And now I must tend to this matter as well."

Alleria grimaced and looked down. "They will listen," she promised. "I will give them no choice."

"What is the meaning of this?" Anasterian Sunstrider demanded. He and the Council of Silvermoon were discussing matters in low, serious voices when Alleria walked in unannounced and uninvited. Several of the high elf rulers rose from their seats, surprised at her presence, but Alleria ignored them. She focused only on Anasterian.

The high elf king was old, old even for an elf, with hair that had long since turned white and skin thin as parchment and lined as a piece of old wood. He had gone from slender to frail but his blue eyes were still piercing and his voice, though thin as well, was still filled with authority. Alleria instinctively shrank back from his anger but then she remembered why she was here and straightened.

"I am Alleria Windrunner," she announced, though she knew most of the council members recognized her. "I have been beyond our borders, and have fought alongside the humans in their war. And I have returned to bring you grave tidings, not just for them but for us." She frowned and studied the men and women before her. "The Horde the humans warned of is real and vast and powerful. The bulk of their forces are orcs, but they have other creatures as well. Including the forest trolls." That got a reaction, gasps and angry mutterings. None of the other high elves knew what an orc was—she hadn't herself until she'd fought them in the Hillsbrad—but they all knew about trolls. Some here, including Anasterian himself, had even fought in the great Troll Wars long ago, some four thousand years after Quel'Thalas was founded.

"You say this Horde includes trolls," a lord stated loudly, "yet why should that concern us? Let the trolls follow these strange creatures you tell of, and hopefully march far away from here. Perhaps the humans will even do us a favor and kill them for us!" Several other elves laughed and nodded.

"You do not understand," Alleria told them angrily. "The Horde is not some distant problem we can ignore and laugh about! They intend to conquer all of Lordaeron, from coast to coast! And that includes us here in Quel'Thalas!"

"Let them come!" Another lord, an elven mage she thought was named Dar'Khan, scoffed. "Our lands are well—defended—none can pass the Runestones and survive."

"Oh no?" Alleria snarled at him. "Are you so sure? Because already the trolls have entered our forests. Already they stalk through our lands, killing our people. And the orcs will not be far behind. They are less powerful than trolls, individually, but they are as numerous as locusts, enough of them to cover the land. And they are here."

"Here?" Anasterian scoffed. "Impossible!"

In answer Alleria swung her arm and released the object she had been carrying since she and Vereesa had run. The troll's head flew through the air, its short dark hair waving about it, the sun catching on a tusk, and fell again, landing just before Anasterian's feet.

"This one attacked Vereesa and me," Alleria explained, "not an hour's run from the river crossing. Several more followed us to there, and their bodies still lie on the far bank unless Sylvanas and her party have moved them." She noticed that none of the lords were laughing at her anymore. "They are here," she insisted again. "The trolls are within our woods, killing our people. And the orcs are the ones burning the edges of Eversong Forest!" Though she admitted to herself she did not know how they could be causing the other fires both Vereesa and Sylvanas had mentioned.

"Outrageous!" This time Anasterian's outburst was not directed at her. The elf king kicked the troll head, causing it to roll away under another lord's chair. His eyes were sharp and his brow drawn, and when he turned back to Alleria she could see the energy and focus that had made him such a great king for so many years. All hints of frailty were gone, brushed aside in the current crisis. "They dare to invade our home?" Anasterian fumed. "They dare!" He looked up and his expression was like thunder. "We shall teach them to trespass here! Gather our warriors," he instructed the other lords. "Summon our rangers. We will attack the trolls and drive them from our forest so sternly they shall never dare encroach again."

Alleria was pleased to see her king so determined, and certainly agreed with the sentiment. But she shook her head anyway. "The trolls are only part of the danger," she reminded Anasterian and the others. "The Horde is numerous beyond belief and the orcs are strong, tough, and determined." She grinned. "Fortunately I did not come alone."

Turalyon was battling a pair of orcs and had just smashed one to the ground with his hammer, though he took a heavy blow on his shield from the other. A third orc leaped at him, almost knocking him from his horse, and since the creature was too close to strike with a weapon Turalyon headbutted him instead, his heavy helm striking the orc across the brow and the bridge of the nose and leaving him stunned. Turalyon shoved the dazed orc off his horse and onto his third foe, then used that opportunity to strike both of them good hard blows. Neither of those two would get up again.

He brushed water from the front of his helmet, taking a second to peer up at the thick gray clouds that hung above them. The rain showed no sign of letting up, though he supposed that was a good thing. At least the fires were out now, and unlikely to start again. He supposed he could stand fighting in such soggy, miserable weather if it helped keep the elven homeland from burning to the ground. Off to his side he caught a brief glimpse of Khadgar, who was laying about him with sword and staff. The wizard had exhausted his magic summoning the vast storm, which stretched across the entire front of Quel'Thalas, but he was proving formidable enough with mundane weapons that Turalyon knew he should not waste time worrying about his friend. Besides, he had enough foes that he should be focusing that worry on himself instead.

Turalyon was just turning to deal with a pair of orcs at his left flank when one of the two stiffened, twitched, and toppled over, an arrow through his throat. Turalyon recognized the fletching and grinned. Sure enough, a lithe young woman darted toward him a moment later, her travel cloak's hood tossed back despite the downpour, the tips of her long pointed ears piercing the golden mane that surrounded her lovely face. Somehow the rain was ignoring her, falling around her instead of on her, and Turalyon was not sure if it was elven magic or just the sheer power of her natural beauty.

"I can see I got here just in time," Alleria commented as she reached him, idly turning and putting an arrow in another orc's throat. "What do you do when I am not around to save you?"

"I manage," Turalyon replied, too caught up in battle to feel flustered by her presence. He blocked an attack and struck down the orc in question, already turning to find the next foe. "Did you find them?"

"I did," she confirmed. "And they have agreed. Already the warriors and rangers are mobilized. They can be here in ten minutes, if here is where you want them."

Turalyon nodded, using his hammer's long shaft to block an axe swing and then shortening his grip so the hammer's head struck the offending orc on the return swing. "Here is as good a place as any," he answered. "And as long as we are here to fight them the Horde isn't going anywhere."

Alleria nodded. "I will run back and inform them. You have only to hold fast until they arrive." Her voice sounded strange, and Turalyon risked a quick glance. By the Light! Was she crying? She certainly looked sad. No doubt the invasion of her homeland had taken a hard toll upon her.