Chapter Eight: The Bait Plan

Uther’s war hammer shattered the skull of a troll before him. The Grand Paladin effortlessly cleared a wide space around himself. The power of the Holy Light had strengthened Uther’s physique—not to the extent of causing earthquakes or cataclysmic destruction, and although ordinary swords could still harm him, the supernatural was unmistakable; common trolls were no match for him.

Under the relentless charges of the knights of Lordaeron and the precise volleys of elven archers, the troll vanguard began to show signs of faltering. An old troll hunter, wielding twin battle axes, sensed their disadvantage. After repelling an assault from a paladin, he charged directly at Uther—the obvious linchpin of the human forces.

The Lightbearer calmly gripped his war hammer, preparing to meet the charge. Radiant holy energy coalesced at the hammer’s head, ready to be unleashed in a devastating blow. But before the troll could fully advance, a war hammer formed of pure Light streaked across the battlefield like lightning. It struck the troll squarely in the face before he could even react.

The towering, headless body fell slowly, the neck scorched as if seared by intense heat. More than that, the holy hammer’s strike, while slaying the troll hunter, ignited a violent explosion amidst the trolls. A faint smile curled at Uther’s lips as he pivoted his arm, crushing the skull of another troll lunging from behind.

At that moment, Arthas arrived at the battlefield, leading twenty knights of the Silver Hand in a fierce breakthrough into the troll ranks. Cloaked in the blazing power of the Might of Menethil, each swing of Arthas’s arm felled two or three trolls, their famed regenerative abilities useless against the precision and lethality of his strikes—each blow fatal.

As more trolls fell, the vanguard finally broke and fled, retreating swiftly into the forest and leaving hundreds of corpses behind. Arthas’s radiant holy light finally dimmed as he reined his horse beside Uther.

“Sorry, teacher, I’m a bit late,” he said.

“You’ve come just in time, Arthas,” Uther replied, leaning on his war hammer with no sign of fatigue. Compared to the intensity of the wars against orcs, these trolls posed little real threat.

“Have the troops clear the field. We need to head to command—things are complicated,” Arthas ordered, dispatching soldiers and elves to clean the battlefield. Paladins and priests were left on guard, wary of any voodoo curses lingering on troll corpses.

Back in the command tent, Uther noticed the curse afflicting Sylvanas and frowned, understanding how difficult it might be to dispel. “What’s wrong with Lady Windrunner?”

“Likely a curse cast by a high troll priest. I have a way to dispel it, but it will take time,” Arthas explained briefly.

---

The leaders of the human and elven forces had gathered in the tent to discuss the next steps.

“Thank you for Lordaeron’s aid. I’ll get straight to the point: based on scout reports and estimates, the trolls’ numbers far exceed our initial expectations,” Sylvanas said briskly, her complexion improved after Lilian’s preliminary healing.

“How many do they have now?” Uther asked.

“Likely more than twenty thousand,” Sylvanas answered, her tone heavy with concern over the overwhelming odds.

“So, with only the outpost’s defenses, we cannot hold against the troll assault. We must withdraw behind the Ban’Thinorel barrier and rely on the shield and the fortress to blunt their advance.”

“We have just repelled another wave with minimal losses, but we must retreat before their next attack,” she pointed out on the map the destination for their withdrawal.

“I have a question, Lady Sylvanas,” Uther said. “We still don’t understand why the trolls have gathered so many troops. If their goal were simply to attack Quel’Thalas, they could bypass our heavily defended fortress and strike elsewhere.”

“That’s what worries me as well,” Sylvanas admitted, “but with the rangers stretched thin, it’s fortunate that other fortresses have teleportation circles for quick reinforcement if needed.”

Arthas studied the map, his brow furrowed. “No… that’s not right. The troll assault isn’t aimless.”

“Oh?”

Everyone in the tent turned their attention to the prince, eager to hear his thoughts.

“You mentioned the rangers’ limited manpower. The trolls, your longtime foes, undoubtedly know this well,” Arthas reasoned. “If I were their commander, I would feint here to fix your forces in place, then send the main force to attack elsewhere—after all, their numbers outnumber ours at least ten to one.”

Sylvanas nodded in agreement. “Indeed, whoever leads these trolls cannot be foolish. If there were easier targets, they wouldn’t be wasting their strength here to fight us head-on.”

“And now, the rangers have been held at this outpost for days, and the trolls have made no move on other fortresses. This suggests that what’s here is likely not a feint, but the main force…” Arthas’s gaze shifted to Sylvanas, aware of the curse afflicting her, and felt he was close to the truth.

“Lady Windrunner, I think I know what the trolls’ true objective is.”

---

“What is it?”

“They want nothing more than to lure you and your forces out of Ban’Thinorel.”

Arthas’s revelation stunned everyone. They instinctively wanted to object, but Sylvanas spoke first.

“That sounds absurd. Are they waging war just to cause greater casualties?”

“It may sound absurd, but it fits the trolls’ strange behavior,” Arthas explained. “Otherwise, they could have attacked elsewhere. If their goal was mere pillage or revenge, there’d be no need to risk a head-on clash with the rangers’ main force here.”

“So they have gathered here, even using several tribal shamans as bait, either to capture or kill you, or to annihilate the rangers completely.”

“And since these trolls are likely commanded by their high priests, I suspect they seek sacrifices to awaken the Loa gods.”

“Lady Windrunner, as leader of the rangers and a formidable ranger herself, fits perfectly into the trolls’ sacrificial plans.”

The ranger commanders lowered their heads thoughtfully. The trolls’ behavior was indeed unusual. They typically struck the weakest defenses, but this time they had gathered their forces and attacked the toughest target.

If before they believed the trolls were merely confident in their numerical superiority, Arthas’s words prompted them to consider this darker possibility.

“But how can you be sure?” Sylvanas asked after a moment’s silence.

“I can’t be certain yet,” Arthas replied without hesitation, “but we can test the trolls. If they take the bait, it means my guess is correct.”

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes, her delicate lashes fluttering as a playful smile crossed her pale face. “And how do you propose we test them?”

“They set a trap with bait; so can we,” Arthas said with a meaningful grin. “After all, trolls prefer live sacrifices to corpses.”