Though no battles touched Galen's Village during this time, Galen himself was far from idle. After completing his daily patrols, he would slip away into the town hall. Most believed he was resting—but in truth, Galen had already vanished.
North of Mulgore, the tauren were constructing a new city. They had unanimously named it Thunder Bluff. Galen often visited, quietly observing the progress and offering the tauren advice—insight drawn from memories of his past life. His words, though modest, helped shape their rising capital.
In his spare hours, Galen also sparred with Cairne Bloodhoof. The tauren chieftain was a mountain of muscle and wisdom, and Galen welcomed every duel as a chance to refine his martial skill under the strongest warrior of their kind.
Despite wielding the Origin Heart and having the ability to call upon power via in-game purchases, Galen knew such strength wasn't his—not truly. That was why he valued gradual, earned improvement. In Azeroth, history had shown time and again that power without control or clarity led only to ruin.
The birth of Cairne's son brought much joy. A male calf, whom Cairne named Baine Bloodhoof, was greeted as a blessing to the tauren people.
Even more significant was the rise of a new faction among the tauren, led by the Skychaser tribe. United by their belief in the sun god An'she, this growing sect was guided by Dezco and his father, who helped them awaken the sun's divine power. Many zealots succeeded in manifesting this Light.
They became known as the Sunwalkers—tauren faithful to An'she, and to Galen, whom they now revered as the sun god's divine envoy. Though their numbers were few, their healing abilities brought hope to the newly settled tauren. Without intending it, Galen's prestige in Thunder Bluff rose to near-reverent levels.
Perhaps now was the time to ask for a few kodo beasts as mounts?
Elsewhere, the Vogul ogres had made their home at Sweetwater Oasis in the Barrens. Local wildlife paid the price—zebras, giraffes, savanna lions, even stray Bristleback quillboar were now ogre food. The tribe thrived, and many of the females had already begun to bear children.
Meanwhile, Galenport was gaining attention. Bristleback quillboar, tauren, goblins, and even wandering night elves gathered there. Ever opportunistic, goblins saw the area's commercial potential and began buying shops from Gandalf, setting up businesses in the port's growing marketplace.
One afternoon, just as Galen returned from patrolling the village's eastern flank, Gavinrad approached him with news: Lothar had arrived.
Gavinrad had mentioned previously that Lothar was leading a large force stationed southeast of Elwynn Forest—just a hundred miles away. A major orc tribe had recently appeared in eastern Elwynn and western Redridge. Lothar had fought them fiercely, leaving battlefields littered with corpses before both sides withdrew.
Given Galen's Village was the closest human outpost to the Swamp of Sorrows, Lothar's arrival was hardly a surprise.
When Galen entered the village hall, it was already full. Sitting in the central seat was none other than Anduin Lothar himself.
Lothar had recently made the Tower of Azora his command post, striking northeast into Redridge and raiding southeast into the Swamp of Sorrows. Each raid was a success, earning him the title Lion of Stormwind among the people.
Beside him sat a tall man in a striking mage robe of black and crimson feathers. He carried a staff resembling—of all things—a chicken leg.
Even without an introduction, Galen recognized him: Medivh, the Guardian of Tirisfal.
Medivh met Galen's gaze, and Galen felt a sudden tightening across his entire body. That wasn't just Medivh's gaze. Behind those eyes lurked something far more terrifying—Sargeras, the fallen Titan and lord of the Burning Legion.
But for now, Medivh's own soul was in control. Sargeras lingered in the background, concealed and biding his time, influencing Medivh only when the stakes demanded it.
Still, those eyes—deep, oceanic blue—radiated unfathomable wisdom, as though they could pierce both past and future.
Realizing it was rude to remain by the doorway, Galen quickly approached. Out of respect—and gratitude—Lothar had left the seat at his side open for Galen. Only Turalyon and Galen had yet to sit.
"Uncle Lothar, when did you arrive?" Galen greeted him with a smile. They were well-acquainted, and Galen had long treated him as a mentor and even a father figure—especially after bonding with Varian, Lothar's young protégé.
"Just after you went on patrol," Lothar replied. "Let me introduce you. This is my old friend, Archmage Medivh."
"Medivh, this is Prince Galen Trollbane of Stromgarde."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Medivh," Galen said respectfully.
"A fine young man," Medivh said, voice smooth but commanding. "I sense a powerful force within you—Holy Light forged through order, and the blood of a warrior king."
"And young Varian too," he added thoughtfully. "He's grown so much. I remember when he was just a boy."
Lothar chuckled. "You've been away from Stormwind too long, Medivh. Llane and I both need you back. Karazhan can't replace the world."
"I received Llane's messenger and came as soon as I could—with my new apprentice," Medivh said, gesturing to the young man beside him. "Khadgar."
Galen finally shifted his focus from Medivh to the youth. Medivh's presence had been overwhelming, his aura practically eclipsing everything else in the room.
Khadgar—young, fresh-faced, a spark of curiosity in his eyes—stood attentively. Galen remembered him from the game. Khadgar's Whisker, a common herb in the 30–40 leveling zones, had made his name memorable to every player.
Medivh turned back to Galen. "Lothar tells me you're not only a knight, but a mage?"
"Oh, that's… thanks to my teacher," Galen said quickly.
He didn't want to draw Medivh—or worse, Sargeras—too close.
"My teacher is Grandmaster Gandalf. A legendary old mage. He imprinted the teleportation spell directly into my mind—I'm still not sure how it works. I only know how to use the imprint."
Sorry, Gandalf. This burden is yours now.
"Gandalf?" Medivh echoed, brow furrowed. "I don't recall hearing of such a mage in Dalaran."
"He once visited Dalaran," Galen said smoothly. "Had a long talk with Grandmaster Antonidas, I believe. Beyond that, I know little of his origins."
Medivh gave a slow nod, thoughtful. "Interesting."
Successful deflection. Score one for me.