Chapter Twenty-Five: Luck

After a wonderful evening spent with Jaina, Arthas decided to linger in Stormwind for a few more days; the scenery in the southern reaches of the continent was well worth exploring. As luck would have it, Jaina had been granted a short leave, and Arthas planned to take her on a proper tour of the Kingdom of Stormwind.

"Are you certain you don't need me to send guards to accompany you?" Varian always felt uneasy about letting the two of them roam unescorted. Given their incredibly noble status, if anything were to happen, he would have no idea how to explain it to their respective royal fathers.

"Varian, are you truly worried about the safety of a paladin and an archmage?" Arthas had no desire to bring along any third wheels. "What possible danger could there be in Elwynn Forest? We are simply taking in the sights and relaxing."

There was really no arguing with that logic. In truth, Varian was conflicted; it was clear that Arthas wanted to enjoy a private world with Jaina, and sending guards would only make him look petty.

"Very well, then. But you must promise me you will stick to Elwynn Forest and Westfall. It would be best if you avoided Redridge Mountains as well; there are still remnants of the orcs there that have yet to be cleared out."

"I understand, Varian. I promise we won't go anywhere particularly dangerous, alright?"

"That's good... And remember, don't even think about going to Duskwood or Karazhan. Do not go there!" Varian emphasized these two locations specifically.

Ever since the corrupted Guardian Medivh was slain by Anduin Lothar, the chaotic energy released upon his death had transformed the once-sunny forest into a grim, deathly domain—a place now known as Duskwood. The SI:7 had already lost several fine agents there, and now Mathias Shaw only dared to have his spies operate on the outskirts of the woods. Beset by political turmoil, Varian had no time to spare for the residents of Duskwood; he could only station a small number of troops along the forest border to provide support for refugees.

According to reports from the few scouts who had managed to escape, the largest town there, Raven Hill, had been reduced to ruins. The cemetery in the woods behind it had become a paradise for the undead. The dead crawled from their graves, and terrifying spirits drifted through empty rooms. It was said that a ghastly skeleton roamed the area, mercilessly slaughtering any living soul it encountered. At the southern foothills of Duskwood, a group of ogres—survivors of the Orcish Wars—had taken root, and they were monsters who would devour a man whole. In short, it was no place for the living, and heaven only knew what other dangers lurked there.

As for Karazhan, the mage tower of the fallen Guardian, it was an even more ominous site. The once lush valley had been warped by Medivh’s influence into a desolate wasteland of jagged rocks, crawling with dangerous mutated beasts and dark creatures.

"We are going for leisure, not adventure, Varian. You are worrying too much." Arthas certainly wouldn't be reckless enough to enter Medivh's tower; that would be no different from suicide. While the collection within Karazhan was indeed tempting, now was not the time for looting.

After bidding farewell to Varian, Arthas and Jaina rode out of Stormwind and began their journey. Their first stop was the premier town of the kingdom: Goldshire. Despite having been caught in the crossfire of the First War, the rebuilt Goldshire was as bustling as it had ever been.

By the time the sun hung high at noon, they reached the town. Entering the famous Lion's Pride Inn, Arthas and Jaina found a seat amidst the upbeat tavern tunes. The tavern was filled with the clamor of conversation. Jaina watched the passing travelers, merchants, and adventurers carrying their gear, and remarked to Arthas, "It's so lively here; it reminds me of the taverns in Boralus."

"The Lion's Pride is one of the most famous taverns in the Kingdom of Stormwind, and you can pick up a lot of interesting news here," Arthas said, signaling for Jaina to listen closely to the chatter around them.

"How are things at the Fargodeep Mine? Are there still kobolds coming out?"

"Same as usual. They seem to be recruiting adventurers to deal with it, but the pay isn't great."

"The road to Westfall is getting harder to travel, and the price of grain is rising! Damn those bandits and gnolls!"

"Aye, a mug of ale used to cost ten copper, now it's up to fifteen—can't you lower the price, innkeeper?"

"Get lost!"

The final exchange made Jaina stifle a laugh. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and chuckled, "Are adventurers always this amusing?"

"Sometimes they can be quite funny," Arthas replied. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

Jaina thought for a moment. "Stonecairn Lake."

Stonecairn Lake was located in the eastern part of Elwynn Forest. It wasn't known for particularly beautiful scenery, but on a small island in the center stood a circle of stone tablets, engraved with the names of those who had sacrificed their lives during the First War. The central monument honored the brave warriors who fell in the defense of Stormwind, while the surrounding ring of tablets bore the names of the innocent civilians who had perished. Every year, when the Feast of Winter Veil ended and spring arrived, the citizens of Stormwind would spontaneously travel to Stonecairn Lake to mourn the departed.

Arthas nodded. "Then let's head to Northshire Valley first, visit the Northshire Abbey, and stay the night there. We can set off for Stonecairn Lake tomorrow. Otherwise, we'll likely have to sleep in the wild tonight."

"That sounds perfect."

After finishing their lunch at the Lion's Pride, the two continued on horseback, enjoying the scenery along the way. Elwynn Forest was beautiful, with its fertile farmlands and dense woods; the mild climate and abundant rainfall made it a wonderful place to live. Unless one ventured deep into the forest, there were few fierce beasts or monsters to contend with. Coupled with the patrols of Stormwind guards and local militias, the security in Elwynn Forest was quite good.

Jaina sighed with emotion, "Although the Kingdom of Stormwind has endured a great catastrophe, everything is getting better now, and people’s lives are starting to get back on track."

The trees that had been felled by the orcs for war supplies had largely grown back, and the peaceful forest seemed to have fully recovered from the scars of the war.

"The ancestors of Stormwind led their people through mountains and rivers to reach this land; their spirit of fearlessness in the face of hardship is woven into their bloodlines." When the entire Eastern Kingdoms suffered great upheaval, the Kingdom of Stormwind, thanks to its unique geographical location and resilient people, had become the last remaining bastion of human civilization. Who could have imagined that the fragile, newborn Stormwind of today would become the final fortress of humanity in the coming decades?

As Arthas spoke to Jaina about the history of Stormwind and introduced her to its unique culture, she looked at him with a gentle smile, her eyes reflecting the image of the young prince. "You know so much, Arthas. Who would have thought the Prince of Lordaeron was also a historian?"

Arthas remained as humble as ever. "I only know a little; I'm still far behind a true historian—"

"Help!"

Arthas paused. Jaina looked at the young prince and frowned, "Did you hear that?"

"It came from the woods to the north." Arthas pulled on his reins, steering his horse onto a small path leading into the forest.

"I'm coming with you."

They did not have to travel far before they saw an old man struggling as he dragged a burly man along the path. The man was covered in wounds, and his leg appeared to have been mauled by some beast, bleeding profusely; he had long since lost consciousness. When the old man saw Arthas and Jaina riding toward them, a flicker of hope ignited in his eyes. "Please, I beg of you, save my son!"

Arthas dismounted immediately and went to the old man's side. A burst of Holy Light condensed in his hands, and he began to heal the man's wounds. "Old man, what happened here?"

"Thank you, kind priest!" the old man said, thanking Arthas profusely. "My son and I were out hunting in the woods when we encountered a pack of wolves. To protect me, my son was nearly torn to pieces."

"Your son is truly brave," Jaina said, pulling a water skin from her pack and handing it to the old man. "Don't worry, he will be fine."

Thanks to Arthas’s ministrations, the wounds were largely healed, though the man remained pale from the loss of blood. "He is out of danger, but he has lost quite a bit of blood. It would be best to take him to Northshire Abbey and have a proper priest or physician keep an eye on him."

Such external wounds were not particularly difficult for him to treat; the purification of the Light could even purge diseases that might have been caused by the wolf bites. Had it not been for the prolonged blood loss, the man would likely have awakened and been able to walk on his own by now.

Arthas thought for a moment and said to Jaina, "Let's teleport directly to Northshire. Otherwise, I fear this old man and his son won't make it back before dark."

Before leaving Stormwind, Jaina had already memorized several common teleportation nodes in Elwynn Forest; opening a temporary portal was no trouble for her.

With a flash of azure light, the old man found himself standing dazed with his son at the gates of Northshire Abbey, and moments later, Arthas and Jaina emerged from the portal, leading their horses. A priest soon arrived to take the man and his son into the abbey for further examination and care.

After stabling their horses, the two encountered the old man again outside the treatment room. Upon seeing his rescuers, the man stood up, overcome with emotion, unsure of what to say. He suddenly remembered something, reached into his coarse clothing, and produced a few silver coins, trembling as he tried to give them to Arthas.

"Heroes, if not for you, my son might have died in those woods. I have nothing to repay you with. This was money I intended to use for supplies in town; it isn't much, but please, I insist you take it."

Arthas gently pushed the man's hand back. "We only did what we could. Even without us, the patrolling militia would have found you eventually. Keep your silver; your son needs further care and rest."

"I... I..."

The old man felt a sense of shame. These strangers had saved his child and preserved his family, yet he could not offer a proper reward. He sighed deeply, "May I ask the names of the two heroes?"

"I am Arthas, and this is Jaina. We are travelers from Stormwind."

Unable to repay them, the old man could only commit their names to memory. Inside the abbey, he and his family knelt to offer prayers for Arthas and Jaina, wishing them a lifetime of peace and good fortune.