Mathias was hardly composed as he hustled down the corridors of the palace. His hurried pace made no discernible sound as he moved down the hallways, his passing leaving almost no trace. He turned a corner, and nearly dislocated his shoulder as he threw himself violently to one side, into an alcove behind a suit of war-dented plate-mail, still showing marks where Orc axes and clubs had been wielded against its bearer. A figure passed him by, but after only a moment of observation, he realized it was Elitha, Varian's open right hand, where he was the left tucked behind the King's back. She moved down the hallway with a sort of silken grace. She was good at her job, and for that he respected her. He released a breath he had been unaware he was holding, and chided himself.

"Never hold your breath," he whispered to himself, "Always be ready to move, as fast as possible." He'd said it before to novices many times, and was almost ashamed to have to tell himself the same.

He turned the corner once more, and caught the swish of an elven-made cape flashed around the opposite corner. Good, that meant that the King's meeting was finished. He found the door, and opened it without knocking. The King still sat at the table, and without bothering for ceremony, Mathias launched into the report he was here to give.

"We've got more news, sir. There's Gnolls in the Westfall. they're apparently lead by some kind of elder, a chieftain with black fur. We've been trying to find his location, but the beast is a clever one, and it's not going well. Those new fools in the Brotherhood are trying to fend them off, and apparently actually doing a decent job of it. And we've got reports of Orcs in the Redridge mountains. Forage still remains... inconclusive. I've got reports of rioting in the streets, but none of them say which side the rioters are on. I don't have much to go on. With the Forage garrison tied up in the nonsense, I've got reports of trolls in Duskwood..." Mathias stopped and sighed.
He hadn't even mentioned the Defias, the biggest problem the Kingdom faced. He figured the King would notice that. DAMN EDWIN! DAMN HIM! He sighed again/

"It's a shitstorm, sir. My agents are stretched thin as it is. We need the merchants to get through, and we need the soldiers elsewhere. If we trust the Westfall to the Brothers, we might lose Sentinel Hill and the Quarries on the coast. Moonbrook is probably strong enough to hold... I don't have any reports about the orcs actually attacking anything out by Everstill..."

Mathias trailed off. He had tried to keep the report brief, just to not entirely indicate how BAD everything was, but he knew he sounded flustered. If he was flustered, the King would know exactly how bad the situation was. He was hardly acting like himself. He had to get control of himself. DAMN EDWIN!

He glanced up, and straightened himself up. "Orders, sir?"

Varian smiled and nodded as he let Elitha out the door. The meeting has been a success –after a fashion- due to her mediatory skills and he very grateful for it. Stormwind had enough troubles without a break down in relations with the Exiled Embassy. And speaking of trouble. Matthias was supposed to be reporting in soon for an intelligence briefing on kingdom affairs. Thinking he might as well stay and wait for the spy master to arrive Varian resumed his seat at the table. Not a second before his shoulders wrested upon the back on the chair did Matthias burst into the room.

"We've got more news, sir,” began Matthias immediately not even stopping to exchange pleasantries, “ There's Gnolls in the Westfall. they're apparently lead by some kind of elder, a chieftain with black fur. We've been trying to find his location, but the beast is a clever one, and it's not going well. Those new fools in the Brotherhood are trying to fend them off, and apparently actually doing a decent job of it. And we've got reports of Orcs in the Redridge mountains. Forage still remains... inconclusive. I've got reports of rioting in the streets, but none of them say which side the rioters are on. I don't have much to go on. With the Forage garrison tied up in the nonsense, I've got reports of trolls in Duskwood..." Mathias stopped and sighed and Varian noted to great lines of worry across his face, "It's a shitstorm, sir. My agents are stretched thin as it is. We need the merchants to get through, and we need the soldiers elsewhere. If we trust the Westfall to the Brothers, we might lose Sentinel Hill and the Quarries on the coast. Moonbrook is probably strong enough to hold... I don't have any reports about the orcs actually attacking anything out by Everstill..."

“Calm down Mattias,” ordered Varian semi-sternly as he got up and offered the elder man a seat. He never thought he’d have to say that to SI:7 grandmaster before. Things must be truly strained for him to be acting in such a way.

“Take a deep breath. I’ve already acted upon earlier reports and ordered increased action against the rising Gnoll infestation. This includes an additional two hundred troops to be sent to the Westbrook Garrison to support the Westfall patrols. As for the Defias fight with the Gnolls I say good riddance. Let the bastards bleed one another for as long as possible.”

Varian returned then to his seat, eyeing the spy gravely, his lips formed in a thoughtful frown. Matthias was practically sweating. His breath coming quicker than normal. This wasn’t good at all. Matthias was good at was he did because he was calm and disciplined. What had happened to the man? He knew that Edwin’s betrayal had hit the Stormwind loyal hard, but it appeared that his condition was merely going from bad to worse, time seeming to exasperate and not healing it.

“Let’s focus on the matters most important at hand,” began Varian, “The troops based in Stonewatch and Pryde are some of our best and the riots in Forage will be dealt with in a timely fashion I’m sure. Let’s not concern ourselves with these things now. The Trolls presence in southern Elwynn is a considerable issue I agree, so I’d appreciate as much information as you have a present so that I may relay it to the lords of the lands concerned.”

Varian took a slight breath as he worked on attempting to word his thoughts, he didn’t need Mattias anymore upset then he already was, “As for the Brotherhood. I hear only rumors upon my lofty throne but is it truly accurate to say that they have grown considerably in power? And if so, what contingency plans to we have in place to contain them?”

Mathias sought to bring himself under control, matching his considerable will against the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him. He was scarcely in control of himself, as much as he liked to kid himself that he was always in control. He knew that Varian noticed, knew that as much as he tried to convey the situation through words, the King would get far more from his body language. It wasn't quite as bad as the King probably thought it was at this point, but it -was- as bad as he had said it was. He hadn't mentioned the new People's Militia, the Brotherhood of the Horse, a silly name if ever there was one, for all the non-factor that they were. He fought not to quiver in... fear? Rage? He wasn't quite sure... as his thoughts turned to the Defias. Edwin... No! Focus...

"They've got technology sir, stuff we haven't seen before. And stuff we have, but that they simply shouldn't. Most of it looks goblin-made, lumber-harvesting machines and the like, converted into war machines, but there's also rifles and mechanical armor... It's not the best stuff, but it's better than what our standard patrol has. As for numbers, they probably have about a thousand members, and they're growing. They basically control the Westfall roads, though Sentinel Hill, the mines along the coast, and Moonbrook are still controlled by their garrisons. As for contingency plans, sir, well, we could send out the Palace Guard, and rout them completely, but leave the city walls dangerously undermanned. I've been having my agents focus almost completely on the Brotherhood, and it's borne some fruit, mostly in the form of operational plans. They're pretty sporadic, spreading out across the Westfall, and we think there must be a core of members, an elite, that actually do the important things. We're having almost no luck finding their base of operations, so a full-on military crackdown would be fruitless, and perhaps even dangerous. They have us on the defensive, even if we're in the position of strength. We just need to find the head of the serpent and cut it off before it can rear up and bite us, and that's all there is to it."

Varian considered the information carefully. The flow of technology was a major issue. What was a simple patrol supposed to do against a goblin shredder? Such a foe would be a considerable issue for a band of knights, never mind, simple volunteer patrols. That was one of the reasons he had ordered troops to Westbrook. Caravans would begin to be staffed by professional troops not mere caravan guards that would likely end up serving bouncer at the next established tavern they came across. Still, even that would do only so much.

If Mathias projections were right, and Varian had no reason to think they weren’t, the Defias organization was equitable to a small army. Nothing that could never begin to stand before the full might of Stormwind, but, something more than capable of handling a few extra guards on a patrol. Hopefully, it would slow them down a bit and give a chance for SI:7 and other factions to better deal with them. How they would deal with them on the other hand, was something that was still up in the air. The fact that their hideout still remained hidden was a very dangerous indicator and its backers were an even larger concern.

A rogue goblin prince may have sided with the Horde during the Second War but the truth was that goblins didn’t care who they sold to. Whether it was Alliance, Horde or some lukewarm rebellion. As long as there was a profit to be turned they would deal business. What most concerned Varian was how they were turning a profit. This entire mess had started when the House Nobles had refused to pay just over half of the Brotherhoods workers and instead chosen to simply award its top leaders and members with position of power. They were pissed because they hadn’t been paid their due. How the hell were they affording the finances to acquire goblin war machines?

To put it simply they couldn’t. Whatever they attained from raiding or extortion would be used to toward the upkeep of their organization. How were they getting the funds? Who were there backers? The answers to this question were beyond Varian –that was Mathias department- but he had a poor feeling about it none the less. Something was definitely wrong there.

Of course there was a lot wrong with the kingdom now a days. Matthias dismissal of a full military deployment came as a relief to Varian. With so many problems rising in the southern and eastern edges of the kingdom, the last thing Varian wanted to do, was commit troops to Westfall for who knows how long in hopes of solving something that pretty much boiled down to a monetary dispute.

“Well, all is not dark Mathias,” replied Varian bracingly, “By your own words you have made some progress. The extra troops being sent to Westfall should help stem their operations and of course there is the matter of your budget this week. As you know I’ve been negotiating a significant tribute to your cause. I’ve been having a bit of difficulty ensuring that there would be no stonewalling from the nobles. However, I have recently worked out an agreement with the elven Ambassadorial and I hope to cash on it immediately. I think it is quite possible with Embassy support we can increase your current income by a good hardy half of your current gain and-”

At that moment there was a loud rap on the door. Varian shook his head in exaggerated grievance as he called out. Could he ever have a one on one conversation without being interrupted?

“Enter!”

The door opened and a royal scribe entered the room. Dressed in a blue tunic and leggings with a gray undershirt, the man bowed deeply, his blue feathered hat tilting dangerously as he did so.

“I bring a letter bearing the official sigil of the Master Ambassadorial.”

Varian eyes shot up slightly in surprise. Hadn’t the man left no more than an hour ago? He should have only just arrived in the district, never mind having had the time to write and send a letter. What was this all about?

“Bring it here,” commanded Varian impatiently. He swore to the ever-loving Light that if this was some sort of simple thank you card blabbing about continued hope for relationships he was going to gut someone. Starting with the Ambassadorial. Stamping his sign would ensure it be sent to him and not be thrown in a blazing fire place where most of the letters Varian received were sent. The scribe approached quickly seeing his lord’s ire and quickly handed him the letter. Varian quickly ripped open the seal and read its contents. It read:

Dear King Varian Wrynn,

My sincerest well wishes over the negotiations today. I am glad that we were able to come to a resolution of mutual benefit…

That is it, thought Varian, gutting time.

and it is to that end that I would like to relate unto you news of confirmed trolls sightings in southern Elwynn. Their numbers are not of an alarming degree but it should be noted if my information is correct that have not been spotted so far north in several years.

Sincerely,

Narain Sunseer

Varian stared at the letter for several moments before rapidly grabbing an ink quill and a sheet of parchment on the table. Scribbling rapidly he wrote:

Dear Narain Sunseer,

Thank you for this information. Now, what are you going to do about it?

Sincerely,

Varian Wrynn

“Have this message sent to the Exiled Embassy as soon possible,” ordered Varian as he handed the man the sheet before thoroughly putting him from his mind. Turning to Mattias he said, “We have a confirmed troll presence in Southern Elwynn. This threat is no longer a rumor.”