Stratholme had been under complete lockdown since yesterday, including the large harbor on the northern edge of the city, right by the sea!
Yesterday, Uther the Lightbringer had sent out most of the Knights of the Silver Hand's Paladins, ordering them to join the soldiers in maintaining order and conducting preliminary screenings and assessments of Lordaeron's citizens who had been infected with the Undead Plague.
The task was undoubtedly vast and complicated. So, even after a whole night, they had made little progress. Yet they had no choice but to keep at it! Gradually, however, they discovered that the preliminary data they had gathered was astonishingly similar to the data Arthas had collected when he sealed off the city—and the situation was even worse.
The chaos in Stratholme was beginning to show...
More and more Undead Zombies had begun to appear, attacking every living person around them without warning. They spared no one, not even their own families! If the soldiers in the city hadn't been numerous enough and quick to react, promptly killing the few "newly turned" who appeared, large-scale riots would have already spiraled out of control across Stratholme.
But even though the soldiers were doing their best to maintain order, everyone knew the situation was only temporary. Once the infected began to turn en masse, things would spiral out of control!
Stratholme was simply too large. This "Northern Pearl" of the Kingdom of Lordaeron—and indeed of all the human kingdoms—was a vast city that had once handled seaborne shipping and foreign trade, connecting the kingdom with the High Elves of Quel'Thalas. The small force Uther had at his disposal could never hope to control it completely.
"..."
"I have something to add!"
"Sir Uther..."
"The situation really is dire! Some people have already started turning into Zombies.