Meeting

Seeing Lordaeron, Lothar could not help comparing it to Stormwind City. Unlike inland Lordaeron, Stormwind City had its own harbor. To withstand the sea winds, Stormwind City's white stone walls had been built high and polished smooth. Lordaeron did not have Stormwind City's conditions; it was more elegant, sacred, and inviolable.

"This place truly is magnificent."

"Yes," Khadgar agreed. "But I prefer warmer tones now. It really is a little... cold."

"We'll soon be at the end of this journey," Lothar said. Young Prince Varian had remained at his side. Looking at the city before them, no less splendid than Stormwind City, he asked quietly, "Will the people here accept us?"

It was the first thing he had said since arriving. Lothar considered how to answer, but in the end, he turned his gaze to Nathanos.

"Though I have never met King Terenas," Nathanos replied, facing Varian, "I believe he is nobler than the residents of Southshore."

Hearing that answer, Lothar relaxed a little.

A few minutes later, they reached the drawbridge at Lordaeron's gate. The soldiers stationed there had spotted them long ago. One soldier walked over and stopped before Lothar. Through the gap in his helmet, Lothar saw that his face was very young. Clearly, this soldier had never experienced battle. At this distance, he was entirely within sword range. Had he been facing an enemy, he might already have been dead.

"Welcome. His Majesty has received word from Southshore and is waiting for you in the throne hall."

"Thank you very much."

"Follow me," Nathanos said, walking ahead. "I know the way."

Khadgar's opinion of him changed. Nathanos truly knew the way, and he had not asked anyone for directions.

"Please don't take offense."

"What?" Lothar asked.

Nathanos hesitated, then continued, "Those soldiers. They have never fought battles where it was kill or be killed, so they appear very lax."

"I had not intended to mention this, but I must ask: are there no enemies on Lordaeron's lands worthy of making its soldiers take up arms?" Lothar asked.

"Regrettably, no. The only threat is the Trolls, but they do not regard humans as their primary enemy. They have always been fighting the Elves of the north for territory."

"That truly is troubling."

They stopped at an intersection.

"Stephan, it's time for you to go home."

"Huh?" his cousin said disappointedly. "I want to go to the palace too."

"No. This is not a game. Go home immediately." Nathanos pointed in the direction of the candy shop.

"Cheapskate."

After throwing out those three words, Stephan turned and ran off. Nathanos said apologetically, "I'm sorry for delaying us."

"It's all right. I believe we're almost there."

"Yes, it's just ahead."

They arrived at the palace without incident. Someone was already waiting for them, and Nathanos knew him. The man smiled upon seeing Nathanos, but immediately withdrew it when he noticed the three distinguished guests at Nathanos's side, freshly escaped from war.

Lothar noticed him as well. This man was unlike an ordinary soldier; he must have seen countless battles. His slightly graying beard proved as much. Nathanos bowed to him and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded, then stepped before Lothar and saluted.

"Greetings, Sir Lothar. I am Uther, Royal Advisor of Lordaeron. By His Majesty's command, I have awaited your arrival for some time."

"My apologies, Uther. It is an honor to meet you, but there is a more urgent matter I must discuss with His Majesty at once."

"Please follow me," Uther said. He then looked at Nathanos and gave him a signal to follow as well. Nathanos had thought there was nothing more for him to do and had been preparing to leave. He wanted to find Stephan and make sure the little brat had not run off somewhere else to cause trouble; or return to Southshore to find Larein, who surely needed help caring for the refugees. But his mentor's meaning was clear: he was still needed here, so he had to stay.

They passed through the palace's outer gates and entered a vast courtyard. It was almost an outdoor garden, with rows of small pavilions on both sides. Lothar believed that during festivals, these private booths must be packed with people. Beyond the far end of the courtyard stood another series of gates, all of them open now, leading directly to the throne hall. Before the throne hall stood a bell tower. Every day, its bells rang out, echoing through Lordaeron's streets and alleys to tell the people that night had fallen.

The throne hall was as imposing as its name suggested. Its vaulted ceiling soared high above, its corners hidden in shadow. The entire chamber was circular, surrounded by archways and columns. Golden sunlight streamed through the glass at the center of the ceiling, illuminating the intricate design on the floor: a series of interlocking circles, each different from the next. At the very center, a triangle was inscribed within a circle, bearing Lordaeron's golden emblem. Several indoor balconies hung high along the walls, reserved for nobles during meetings, perhaps also for certain distinguished guests.

Nathanos saw it differently. It was his first time here, and he believed the place was full of tactical value. With only a few archers, one could easily snipe anyone in any corner of the hall from those advantageous positions.

On the other side of the design stood a circular platform. At the end of its concentric steps was an enormous throne, seemingly crafted from some special material.

A tall figure sat upon the throne. His golden hair was touched with white, and there were slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, yet his gaze remained bright and sharp. His crown was spiked and set with three purple gemstones.

This was a King!

Lothar immediately realized that this King was not dressed in sumptuous robes like other rulers, nor did he hold a gem-studded scepter. He wore armor, as though ready for battle at any moment. A King like Llane, one who would not hesitate to fight for his people. Hope rekindled in Lothar's heart. He believed this King's clear eyes could see through to the truth.

"Welcome!" Terenas's voice was loud and resonant, displaying Lordaeron's grandeur. "Guests from afar, state your purpose."

"Your Majesty." Lothar bowed deeply to him. "I am Anduin Lothar. I believe you have received word from Southshore, so I need not elaborate on the details. I wish to speak of something else first. This is Prince Varian, the future hope of Stormwind City."

A Prince? Terenas looked at the little boy, who had clearly been frightened by his voice just now.

"I sympathize with your kingdom's plight. I have already ordered the necessary supplies transported to Southshore. Lordaeron will not stand by while any compatriot is in distress."

"You are a wise King." At last, Lothar could show a faint smile.

"Now let us discuss the more important matter, Lothar. What is this Horde you mentioned in your letter?"

"I cannot explain it clearly in a short time. If I explain everything, it will be too late. King Terenas, I ask that you immediately summon the rulers of the other human kingdoms and have them come here without fail. I will discuss the matter with them and with you in detail. That will save precious time."

"Summon all the Kings? Then it must be a matter of great importance."

"It is extremely urgent, Your Majesty. I have not only brought refugees from Stormwind City and His Highness the Prince. I have also brought a war—a coming war that concerns the fate of humanity."