(Right before Varrus showed up to heal Lor'Themar)

Varrus felt good, real good.

No, good didn't even begin to define how incredibly amazing life was at that moment.

He had literally just had the jaws of death pressed against his neck from a lion sized, magical lynx-inches away from having his skull crushed like a watermelon on YouTube-and there was nothing more intense than barely surviving a close call!

Call him crazy, but there was just some great relief and celebratory urge from surviving near certain death. If Syra were here, he would plant his beautiful wife full on the mouth with a big wet kiss, and lift her into the sky with a shout, that was how jubilant he was.

He knew he still wasn't out of the woods yet, but some of his confidence was beginning to return to him knowing he had guards like Rho’dan surrounding him.

The other four Crossguard and Helios had held off the 800 remaining beleaguered Trolls, and even slew most of them while Varrus was in the throes of mortal combat. Which is why it took Rho’dan so long to finally get that big cat off of him.

Looking at his gore covered men, not a single one of them suffered a scratch due to their superb training, and enchanted gear.

The way Rho’dan recounted it, as soon as he was gripped by Halazzi, the Troll army counterattacked.

Lightning and axes came down on his men, yet they were unmovable like a mountain.

Varrus felt vindicated in his choice of enchantments for them. Dumping mostly everything into Stamina, and Protection with a little bit of Strength paired with their centuries of training and combat experience turned these already lethal Elites into a unit to be feared.

When he claimed to Pathaleon the Calculator that his five Elites were equivalent to a Hero, he had no real basis to back this up, since he had yet to see how they would perform in enchanted gear. Seeing the receipts-that being 800~ broken Troll bodies lying along the scorched beach-Varrus was convinced.

The best part was, most of these guards were equipped with gear enchanted by Common Soul Gems. If he could find a way to equip them with maxed out, smithed armour/weapons, and all Grand Soul Gems, he would bet they would each individually be just as impactful to the battlefield as Rhommath in terms of threat level.

Of course, that dream was a long way off as gathering Grand Soul Gems was extremely tedious. Only the most powerful of beings possessed such strong souls to steal.

However, his gains this time around were significant. He was too far away from the boats he destroyed for Soul Cloak to collect the fallen Trolls energy and create Soul Gems. But, the 10,000 Trolls slain on the beach were well within his range.

During this mass battle, Varrus received 3,167 Petty Soul Gems, 5,677 Lesser Soul Gems, 1,200 Common Soul Gems, 5 Greater Soul Gems, and 1 Grand Soul Gem.

Looking up from his inventory, Varrus noticed the haggard look on the former Ranger Lieutenant, Helios's face. Helios looked like shit, and was wheezing like an out of shape man who had just run a marathon-which made sense, since they had just fought for their lives but a moment ago-and for his contributions, Varrus decided to reward him with better gear once they had returned to Silvermoon.

He felt pity for the suicidal Elf, and valued his skills. If he could nurture him into achieving success, Varrus was hopeful Helios’ story would spread, and other troubled Elves would see that there was a way out.

Mana addiction, and the loss of loved ones were no joke, and Varrus could empathize with them as he genuinely missed his family from Earth. Only Syra's tender loving care was keeping him sane at this point. If not for her, he wouldn't even be in the mood to laugh at the face of death. He'd probably be moping, or be grim faced the entire time!

Helios cocked his head to the side, seemingly curious why Varrus was staring at him so intensely and for so long, he then coughed and pointed somewhere to get Varrus’ attention.

“Huh-huah, Vandercross, shouldn't you be reinforcing, hah, the center? Something, heh, doesn't seem right.” Helios spoke up between ragged gasps for air.

Varrus looked over to where Helios was pointing, and was shocked to discover that the fighting had ceased.

In fact, both sides formed a circle, and two familiar combatants were duking it out.

Playing witness to Zul’Jin magically healing himself with green flames, Varrus remembered that the Troll had all the powers of the Loa. Not only that, but this binding tethering him to the Loa was more serious than simply sharing abilities.

Like a Lich attuned to his phylactery, so long as the Trolls bound to the Loa lived, Zul’Jin could not die!

Varrus recognized that Lor'Themar was on the losing side, and that with no one there to contain him, Zul’Jin would rampage through the Elf line like an unstoppable juggernaut!

“With me!” Varrus called to his unit, then hastened his steps towards the fight.

By the time he pulled up to the dueling circle, he arrived to witness Lor'Themar's self immolation.

“Crazy.” Varrus muttered to himself in disbelief.

“Quel'Thalas has lost a great one this day. May he find the peace in death that he deserves.” Rho'dan seriously intoned.

“I was proud to serve under Commander Lor'Themar in the Farstriders. I always knew he would make a great Ranger General. I can't believe he’s lost the title so soon after gaining it.” Helios muttered, biting back tears from Varrus’ side.

Varrus had heard stories of guys jumping on top of grenades to save their buddies, but seeing something like that in person was wholly different.

Varrus didn't exactly have the best opinion of Lor'Themar. As regent, Lor'Themar failed to reconcile with Kael’Thas and the Blood Elves who remained in Outland. He was coerced by Sylvannas, and was wishy washy with diplomacy. Reliant entirely on Orgrimmar to make any meaningful decisions, Lor'Themar was an ineffective leader.

Under his supervision, the Blood Elves were massacred on Dalaran, and the entire race caught flack from the Alliance for developing the mana bomb that destroyed Theramor.

For years, their land remained plague infested, and the alliance with the Horde only invited war and death.

In some regards, Varrus felt pity for the guy. He was clearly a skilled ranger, yet always played the role of second in command. As soon as he was promoted to Ranger General, Kael’Thas left Silvermoon and went gallivanting with Garrithos, promoting Lor'Themar a second time within weeks of becoming leader of the rangers.

Some people did best as the leader that oversaw all, others could be great Captains and Commanders, but would not make for good Presidents or politicians. Lor’Themar struck Varrus as the latter. A great soldier in the field, yet not cut out for dealing with the political nature of leading a nation. Besides, Lor'Themar did not ask to lead Quel’Thalas, nor did he train for it. It was thrust upon him, and he was found wanting.

Yet Varrus could appreciate the elder Elf for his skills and expertise as a ranger, a military man, and for his knowledge of the land. When a man like Rho’dan expressed his sympathies, Varrus knew Lor'Themar was a real one.

Looking on as Lor’Themar quietly stood tall, hugging Zul’Jin close to his chest to ensure his enemy met his doom beside him, Varrus looked on with respect. Quel’Thalas would lose a true Hero, one who actually cared enough to give his life for his country. That was a rare trait to possess, and that's why he couldn't let the old man die like that.

Varrus hated to heal someone who underwent the extreme pain of total immolation, but he couldn't allow Lor'Themar to die just yet.

Quel'Thalas needed every Hero it could spare. Varrus wouldn't let his people suffer such a major loss simply because he thought less of the man's leadership.

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Holding up glowing golden hands, Varrus cast the Master Restoration spell Infinite Light.

Infinite Light: Stream of healing energy that diffracts between targets, healing 150 points per second.

Like its namesake, a beam of highly concentrated light gushed forth from Varrus’ hands like a spring.

The soothing energies touched upon Lor'Themar’s smoldering form, reshaping his bones and sinew.

While Lor'Themar was on the verge of death, the Edgewalker perk in the Restoration skill tree kicked in, boosting his already rapid recovery.

Edgewalker - Restoration spells are up to 30% more powerful if the recipient is below half Health. The bonus increases as Health decreases.

Varrus marveled at Lor'Themar's self control as he emerged from the flames calm and composed. It was as if he hadn't just endured the most excruciating pain of his life.

If Varrus ever came back from the brink like that, he'd be cursing up a storm and hopping mad. To be honest with himself, that level of pain would leave him wishing for death.

Feeling all eyes upon him, Varrus wanted to break the tension, and said something humorous to see if the old Elf was alright.

“By the way, you had better put some pants on, otherwise all the men will become jealous.” Vandercross spoke while turning his back on Lor'Themar to escape looking at the old timer's junk.

“Punk kid of Vandercross, you should’ve finished off the Amani.” Lor’Themar slowly intoned with a hint of anger in his voice as he went to retrieve his twin swords.

An axe came down toward Varrus’ face while he had been busy focusing on Lor’Themar, to see if he was wholly healed.

Caught unaware, Varrus blinked his eyes, and saw Lor’Temmar interpose himself in between his assailant.

Pressing down with twin arms of bulging muscle, Zul’Jin snarled down at Varrus with nothing but hatred.

The two combatants tusseled with one another, and traded a series of quick swipes, punches, and kicks.

Unfortunately for Varrus, Zul’Jin had similarly had a recent dance among the fire and the flames, and was likewise wearing nothing more than his birthday suit.

Varrus recoiled, not in shock from the axe that had been headed towards his neck, but from the unpleasant image of Lor’Themar and Zul’Jin’s continued duel.

Truly, he would be pleased if he never had to witness a streaking Forest Troll fighting a 4,000+ year old naked supermodel Elf for the rest of his life.

“Vandercross! Dat look of disgust on your face is what I've come to expect from your kind! Look, my Amani, look at the disdain for our people! The dishonorable Elves have broken the sacred duel, in the name of our forefathers, slay these hateful creatures!” Zul’Jin roused his army, then pounced at Varrus.

Prepared this time for the sudden attack, Varrus knew he couldn't kill Zul’Jin, so he responded with his favorite go to spell: telekinesis.

Fortunately, Zul’Jin wasn’t nearly as fast as the lynx Loa, and was caught in Varrus’ telekinetic grasp.

Varrus cast the spell on Zul’Jin, and lifted him into the air. He then roughly slammed him down into the sand. He never once let up on his grasp, and held Zul’Jin in place.

“Ranger General Theran, finish the Amani, I’ll hold this one off for now.” Varrus said between repeated telekinetic attacks.

“As much as it pains me, I’ll choose to believe in the younger generation.” Lor’Themar said, looking down at Zul’Jin with a complex array of emotions across his face. “For now. Good luck Vandercross, and thank you.” Lor'Themar resolutely nodded, gripped his swords, then turned to join the battle.

“Oh and Ranger General, once the Prince is free, signal for his attention. Permanently killing Zul’Jin is more complicated than we first thought.” Varrus informed Lor'Themar.

“Understood.” Lor'Themar nodded once more, then turned towards Helios. “Lieutenant, I see you have found new company.”

“Sir! It’s not what it looks like, I'm still a Farstrider through and through!” Helios hurriedly replied.

“I received a report about your unit. Tragic way for you to lose them like that. You have my condolences for your wife. You’re a valued officer Helios, one I know I can count on. But someone else needs your expertise now.”

“But sir, I can still serve the Rangers! I-”

“Dismissed Lieutenant! Now chin up, we have a war to win.” Lor'Themar said no more, and left to resume the slaughter of the Trolls.

The remaining 5,000 Trolls clashed all around Varrus, donating Soul Gems at a rapid pace, yet Varrus paid them no mind. His attention was focused on containing Zul’Jin. His safety assured by the Crossguard, Varrus was placing all his awareness upon this dangerous Troll.

He had a track record as an escape artist, and Varrus had to prepare himself for something sneaky. If Lor'Themar could get taken out, anything could happen.

Raising his hand to repeat the continued telekinetic slamma wamma, Varrus had to quickly change gears, and was forced to raise his left hand, and form a ward due to Zul’Jin’s retaliation.

Green flames shot from the Amani chieftain's mouth at Varrus, pressing against Varrus’ magical shield, and pushing him backwards.

Skidding along the sand, Varrus tried to catch Zul’Jin in his telekinetic grasp once more, however the Amani chieftain dodge rolled to the side.

At the same time, Zul’Jin barfed out more green flames, and the wings on his back propelled him at an increased speed.

Moving like a jet airplane, Zul’Jin was right on top of Varrus.

However, standing in front of him was Rho'dan and his Crossguard.

Barring their shields, and pointing enchanted swords outward, they served as Varrus’ bulwark.

Zul’Jin clearly didn't take them seriously as he rammed shoulder first into them, expecting to bowl them over like a line of bowling pins no doubt.

However, the look of shock on the Troll's face was quick to change into pained surprise.

Five glowing hot swords cleaved into his arms, legs, chest, chin and head.

Zul’Jin reformed his limbs among the green flames, and exploded those same flames from his body in a fiery ring.

“When will ya stupid Elves learn? Dee Amani be invincible!” The Amani chieftain grinned from ear to ear as he emerged from his rejuvenating green fire, only to be struck with confusion, then extreme pain once more.

The fire indeed spread over the Crossguard, however, their enchantments were too powerful, and withstood the blast.

Without any hesitation or fear from the flames, the Elite, veteran Vandercross House Guard mercilessly stabbed, hacked, and stomped on Zul’Jin.

The ‘invincible’ Zul’Jin was experiencing the horrors of said invincibility every second.

Rho’dan got creative, and began to wrestle with Zul’Jin, and twisted his arms like a pretzel.

Another guard amused himself by repeatedly cutting off Zul’Jin's legs, and began to make a stack of them.

Each of Varrus’ closest companions-the only ones he trusted his and his wife's lives and secrets with-were absolute sadists.

Good God, no wonder his father had such a negative reputation when he had these brutes following him around!

Varrus quickly found he was no longer needed to manage this poor SOB, and turned his attention out towards the battle raging across the ocean, to see what Kael was up to.

He could only hope killing some Trolls would help him get over this emo phase, because Varrus was not looking forward to the conversation that would keep the moody Prince here in Quel'Thalas, and not go on a crusade in Outland. To keep him from going to the dark side. And by dark side, Varrus meant a certain bat-winged, shirtless, tattooed, muscular, charismatic, goth, 10,000 year old Night Elf promising to fix all Kael's problems with highly addictive Fel magic.

Maybe Varrus was reading too much into things, but in canon, Kael called that guy his master after seeing him once. Then he basically worshipped Illidan’s feet, and boasted about him to Arthas like some cartoon villain. His friend was seriously lacking in dignity, and Varrus would not tolerate some uppity Tyrande simp corrupt his best friend. The less they interacted, the better for everyone on Azeroth.

Frankly speaking, Kael needed to man up, and stop running away from his problems. And Varrus would be there as the friend he needed to encourage him to get shit done. Varrus was hopeful that between Kael leading the Monarchy, and him leading the Convocation, they could revitalize their civilization, and secure their land from the threats of the Burning Legion and the Old Gods.

It would be challenging, but Varrus believed that with his loving wife by his side, he could manage to solve anything and everything that came at them.

With Zul’Jin's pained screams begging for mercy in the background, Varrus clenched his fist, closed his eyes, and imagined his wife's radiant smile.

Oh yeah, it was all worth it.

However, his thoughts for the future, and love for his wife were interrupted by the ongoing torture painting the sands red.

“I give, I give! No more, no more!” Zul’Jin cried.

“This is the part where you fall down, and bleed to death! Huarrrghhh!” Rho’dan replied while cutting into the poor SOB.

“Why. Won’t. You. DIE!” Another guard screamed as he stomped Zul’Jin’s skull again and again.

“I've fought mudcrabs fiercer than you!” Another taunted while he left the flaming sword deep inside Zul’Jin's guts.

“I’m just getting warmed up, you pathetic little worm!” A fourth guard shouted as he rained down fist after fist into the pile of mush that was Zul’Jin.

The fifth and final guard stood as overwatch with his arms crossed.

All the while, Helios was staring at them with a glazed look in his eyes.

Varrus felt some sweat fall down the side of his temple at the sight. Jesus fucking Christ, his guards were fucking psychopaths!

Well…it was all still worth it…