The Might of the Forsaken

The Stormwind City docks were cleared, and the fleet and cargo ships all sailed out to sea. Varian King Wrynn, along with a group of high-ranking officers, awaited the developments at sea. Jaina and Sylvanas were among them.

The entire dock was piled high with clean, delicious food and freshly made tents, along with hundreds of Stormwind City guards ready to maintain order. All this elaborate preparation was for the arrival of our distinguished guests.

Sylvanas glanced back; almost the entire Alliance delegation was present. The only surprise was the presence of the Dwarf representative. Compared to the solemnity on the others' faces, the Dwarf's expression held a hint of sorrow.

The weather wasn't bad today; the sea was calm and the visibility was excellent, so anyone could see clearly when a large number of transport ships appeared on the horizon.

"They're here," Jaina said.

The atmosphere suddenly became even more tense. Varian, in particular, had his brow furrowed deeply. The scene reminded him of his own miserable childhood, spent on the run.

"They seem to have... a lot of people, more than we expected," Jaina continued.

She wanted to continue reminding Varian that the supplies prepared were insufficient, but the King spoke first, "This is a good thing, at least not too many people have been sacrificed."

"They'll die if they don't have enough to eat," Sylvanas said, finishing what Jaina was about to say. Her words were harsh, but entirely true. "And there are tents and blankets, and extra space."

Talbert coughed twice and said, "Perhaps they brought their own supplies. In any case, I think we should check on their situation first."

There were many dissenting opinions. Some were skeptical about the arrival of the Stromgarde refugees, while others said that the Alliance was in a tense period with the Horde and could not help others without a reason.

Regardless of what others said, Varian remained unresponsive. The Ghost Wolf, on the other hand, was remarkably calm, as if awaiting an impending storm.

One after another, huge cargo ships and several frigates approached the dock.

The lead ship had already docked, carrying men, women, and children. These people weren't soldiers, but rather survivors of a disaster. Jaina was initially surprised, then she noticed more ships arriving in succession. Like the first ship, a large portion of the passengers were women and children. They were ragged and extremely thin.

"This is really terrible," the female mage muttered to herself.

The landing planks had already been lowered from the ship, but those desperately in need of help didn't rush to disembark. Jaina was impressed by their remarkable orderliness under these circumstances. However, several of them were clad in armor. A man from the lead ship stepped ashore first and walked towards their greeters. Jaina and Sylvanas immediately recognized him as Danas Thoradin.

"King Varian!" Danas was a tall man with a resolute face and a thick, white beard. His armor clearly bore the marks of a fierce battle. The hero, whose statue of honor was displayed in Stormwind City, walked with firm steps, yet could not hide his disappointment and sorrow.

The King of Stormwind City, his usual majesty gone, looked at Danas and thought of Anduin Lothar. He couldn't help but wonder if Lothar had the same expression when he led the people of Stormwind City to Lordaeron.

"Danas." Varian hesitated, unsure of what to say, but he had to say something. "It's good that you're alright, and so are the people of Stromgarde."

"It's not entirely alright, Your King." Danas closed his eyes and shook his head. "Stromgarde is lost, Arathi has fallen."

"We'll discuss these things in detail later." Varian looked up at the civilians on the ships. "We must settle your people first. Get them all ashore and tell them that Stormwind City welcomes them."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

A day had passed after everything was settled. Varian and Danas finally had time to sit down and have a proper talk. Not the kind of casual conversation between friends, but a heavy topic—what had happened to Stromgarde?

The conversation was attended by only a handful of people: Jaina, Sylvanas, senior advisor Talbert, and Seventh Legion senior commander Halfer Wimbane. SI:7 leader Mathias Shaw was also present, though the spymaster was positioned at the door to prevent eavesdropping.

"Tell us, Danas. What exactly happened at Stromgarde? Your messenger only said we need to meet in person."

Talbert poured a glass of water and handed it to Danas. Danas gulped it down as if he had endured a long period of thirst, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your Majesty," he hesitated for a moment, then said firmly, "It is the Undead."

Varian was utterly perplexed. He exchanged a glance with Vimbane, who shook his head. "There are no Undead disturbances in Northrend, Your Majesty."

At that moment, Shaw stood in the doorway and said, "There have always been Undead Lordaeron in the north." He added, "They are called the Forsaken. We know that, but it's no news that they've been entrenched in Alterac and Shadowfang Keep for so long, my friend. Of course, they don't have the power to destroy a city."

At first, when Danas heard Shaw Forsaken, his eyes flashed with fury, but the spymaster's belief that they were merely bandits and mossy festering sores left Danas looking somewhat frustrated. "Absolutely not," he declared. "Those abominable creatures— the Forsaken! Their army is vast. Tens of thousands."

Everyone in the room gasped, except for Sylvanas, who remained calm, though she too was shocked by the number.

Danas continued, "They're very different from the Scourge. They're like... sentient Undead. They no longer attack without fear of pain, but are more tactical and know how to deploy their troops. And... they have many siege weapons, catapults, tanks, and... they also have a navy. I understand that their fleet attacked Faelan Bay before the Thoradin's Wall, where I was stationed, was attacked. I'm sure their threat is no less than that of the Horde on Kalimdor?" The veteran's face grew paler with each word.

Varian stared in disbelief. Troop deployment? Siege weapons? And a navy? The implications of this utterly astonished him. The King slowly sank into his chair.

The Alliance and the Horde are about to clash, and a new enemy has emerged.

"By the Holy Light."

The Ghost Wolf heard Jaina's voice.

May it protect us.