Refugees

Lordaeron's ranks were obtained through three means: inheritance, military merit, and recommendation. Given Lordaeron's current situation, a recommendation from someone else was the most effective method. Uther had once told Nathanos that only those ranked knight-captain or above were qualified to recommend others. Knight-captain was an eighth-rank official position. Nathanos was very curious—which patron had Gray's father found this time?

"Have you heard? Stormwind Kingdom's border was attacked by unknown creatures."

"Stormwind Kingdom? That's awfully far away. How did you find out?"

"I heard it from merchant ships that came from Stormwind Kingdom."

People nearby were discussing it, and Nathanos's gaze fell upon the two men.

"Who are those two? The sturdier-looking one seems to be a soldier, but he isn't wearing Lordaeron's insignia."

Larein glanced over and replied, "They're from Southshore's militia. The one you mentioned is the militia captain, Kaelen Redpath. The younger-looking man opposite him is his brother, Joseph. Oh, and Southshore's current mayor is Marcus Redpath."

"Looks like their whole family has made something of themselves. And what are these unknown creatures they mentioned?"

"No idea, but it doesn't matter. Doesn't Stormwind Kingdom have its Guardian?"

Nathanos nodded. He had long heard the legends of the Guardian.

They were to spend the night in Southshore. What they had thought would be a peaceful day changed at dawn.

Mist shrouded Southshore. At this hour, people had already risen early to begin their work. Dawn had yet to pierce the thick fog, but Southshore's residents knew that a new day had begun. Nathanos and Marius were still asleep. This was the longest night Nathanos had slept in years. Normally, he would rise several hours before sunrise to attend to his tasks. But yesterday, he had chosen to give himself a break. Since they had come to Southshore for a few days of leisure, he might as well relax. Yet his sweet dream was shattered on the first day of his holiday.

Even in his sleep, he could hear the sea striking the shore, surging against the town's lone pier. Nathanos had grown accustomed to the sound, so when another disturbance arose upon the water, he immediately opened his eyes. Just as now, he heard an unusual sound, along with Southshore's early-rising residents.

The sound that came through the fog was slow and deep, accompanied by a creaking clatter.

"Wake up. Ships are approaching." Nathanos shoved Larein and Stephan.

"Isn't that normal? Southshore's fishermen are diligent." Larein did not get up. He brushed Nathanos's hand away and went back to sleep. Stephan did not even acknowledge him.

"They aren't fishing boats. They're the large kind."

"Maybe they're just merchant ships."

"Merchant ships wouldn't sail in foggy weather." Nathanos had already dressed and equipped himself. He stopped waiting and walked out of the inn. More and more people in the streets were gathering toward the docks.

The sound pushed forward as the thick mist spread. A shadow emerged, then its shape gradually became clear. A wave surged toward the fishermen at the harbor, and they hurriedly backed away. This could not have been a natural wave. The tide did not move like this. Something else had to be causing it.

The shadow drew closer, and the sound grew louder. Beyond the curtain of fog, many identical shadows appeared behind it. Ships—countless ships, coming from somewhere else. The people on shore immediately went on guard, holding whatever they had for protection in front of them, even fishing nets. They had seen ships before, but never so many. There appeared to be hundreds, perhaps even more. The townspeople grew even more nervous, while most of the women and children remained indoors.

"My God." Larein and Stephan emerged beside Nathanos after hearing the commotion. They had never seen anything like this either. Nathanos stared out at the sea. The ships within the shadows seemed endless. Oars slapped against the water, disrupting the tide's flow. Their sheer number made Nathanos doubt Southshore could hold them all. It was as though the population of an entire nation had arrived.

The leading ship came ashore, larger than the rest. The villagers discovered that those aboard were not pirates. There were men and women, even children, but they all shared one trait: they were thin and frail, as though they had endured a long and arduous journey. A few soldiers were mixed among the crowd, but there were more ordinary people with haggard faces and tattered clothes. Clearly, they had suffered some calamity. The villagers relaxed slightly. These people were not here to invade.

Ship after ship docked, and many people came ashore while the soldiers maintained order. One man jumped down from the leading vessel and walked straight toward the watching residents of Southshore. His armor was damaged in many places, but even from a distance, Nathanos could see a golden lion engraved upon his breastplate. The man was tall and powerfully built, nearly bald. His graying beard was not particularly thick, and the only word to describe his face was resolute. A shield and greatsword were strapped to his back. He was a warrior seasoned by countless battles. Behind him followed a strangely dressed man, clad from head to toe in tattered violet robes. He was a mage, and the most bedraggled mage Nathanos had ever seen. The mage looked old, with snow-white hair and a thin frame, yet he strode forward with surprising vigor. He was also holding the hand of a boy with brown hair and brown eyes, who looked about Stephan's age and was gripping the mage's hand tightly.

"Greetings. I salute you." The warrior called out loudly to all the residents of Southshore, weariness in his eyes. "We have come from a distant land and have been adrift for weeks. We are refugees. Before this, we endured a terrible disaster. I beg you to give us some food, drinking water, and a place to rest. There are many children among us."

Once the villagers understood the situation, they nodded one after another and lowered their guard. Southshore had stored a great deal of grain, thanks to the numerous granaries built around it. But supplying so many refugees would still stretch their resources thin.

Porridge, stew, milk, blankets, clothes, and other necessities. Mayor Marcus Redpath spoke with the warrior as the refugees were settled throughout Southshore, a process that took considerable time. Nathanos's group gave up their rooms to those who needed them more.

"Thank you." The warrior clasped Marcus's hand. "I know your ability to help us is limited, but I am grateful for anything you give us."

"I will not let women and children go hungry, sir," Marcus said. Then he looked at the grief on the refugees' faces. "Now please tell me, who are you?"

"My name is Anduin Lothar, leader of Stormwind Kingdom's Brotherhood of the Horse. This is Khadgar, a mage from Dalaran."

When Marcus heard that the mage came from Dalaran, he could not help frowning. Everyone knew that Dalaran's mages were powerful.

"What? Stormwind Kingdom? That's on the other side of the sea."

Lothar closed his eyes and nodded. "That's right. We sailed for a long time to reach this place. This should be Lordaeron, correct?"

"Yes. This place lies within Lordaeron's territory. This is Southshore."