"Isn't the Prince clearing out remnants of the Cult of the Damned in the north? Captain Myron, could you let me in on a little news?" Alex had spent several months dealing with the country's Old Nobles. He could not claim to have mastered social maneuvering, but buying favors had long since become second nature.
A heavy pouch of gold coins slipped onto Myron's belt. The captain, barely middle-aged and already balding, immediately shed his gloomy expression and grinned. "I don't know exactly what he's here for, but rest assured, Guildmaster Alex. The Prince isn't here to come after you."
He isn't after me? Then why does he want to see me?
Questions weighing on his mind, Alex thought as he hurried along.
Could he be here for my sister? Alex remained worried until he met Prince Arthas.
Myron had been right. The Prince showed little interest in Alex himself.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, and Arthas asked about trade orders from the country's Old Nobles. A moment later, he changed the subject to Southshore's current stockpiles.
Alex had been helping his sister purchase and stockpile supplies in Southshore all along.
Although supplies were tight across Lordaeron, once the granaries in Andorhal opened and grain began circulating, there was still something of a surplus.
The family's former factories were still working overtime to produce gauze in preparation for war.
Alex knew he could not hide the stockpiling of wartime supplies from Arthas. To protect his family, he told Arthas about the guild's reserves.
Arthas showed little reaction and said nothing about it.
Around noon, after briefly inspecting the waterfront harbor, Arthas spoke first. "Guildmaster Alex, to be frank, I also came here to gather supplies. Please extend an invitation to your sister for me. Could she meet me here this