It was the dawn of the day, and the morning mist covered the land as usual. The sleepy Nanhai Town has stretched its waist and started a new day's activities.

Although there was still no trace of morning light, the people of the town knew that a new day had arrived. A thick mist enveloped their simple wooden huts and hid the sea from the town.

Still, they could hear the waves crashing against the shore, shattering against the reef. You can hear the sound but you can see the shape, everything is the same as before.

But today, they suddenly heard something else.

The voices were low and slow, drifting in with the wind, echoing through the fog, and they couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from—was it from the interior or from the sea? Was it the waves, or the sound of rain on the mist, or the murmur of merchants' convoys struggling through the mud?

The people listened intently, and finally determined that the sound was coming from the ocean in front of them, and they rushed to the shore together, trying to find the answer through the fog, what was this sound, and what did it mean?

Slowly, the fog changed shape, as if torn apart by the sound, and a dark shadow appeared, as if to break through the fog itself. The shadow soon took on a concrete shape, like a wave of the sea.

Ships, many ships—the shadows continued to approach, piercing through the fog and splitting into countless individuals, taking on their own shapes. The townspeople were a little more relaxed - they at least knew about boats.

However, the townspeople still can't be careless, Nanhai Town is not an ordinary fishing village. Here is the best harbour on the hills of Hillsbrad; Now hundreds of ships have suddenly appeared, and the townspeople here cannot help but be suspicious - it is rumored that the pirates of the north are planning a great raid, could this be an attack from pirates?

Some of them ran to inform the town's garrison. Others grabbed sticks, knives, fishing rods, and even fishing nets, whatever they had with them, and waited nervously for the mysterious fleet to approach - if it was a group of pirates, the townsfolk would not hesitate to do whatever it took to protect their home.

However, there are still more ships constantly emerging from the fog. With each batch, the townsfolk were even more shocked, and the process seemed to be repeating itself over and over again - they were wrong. Where there are only hundreds of boats, these are thousands, and even one country, is approaching them!

Where did all these ships come from? What made them come at the same time like this? And what brought them to the kingdom of Lordaeron?

-- With these questions. The townsfolk tugged at their weapons tighter; The women and children hid back in their homes. The sound of countless oars clapping neatly against the sea is getting closer and closer.

The leading ship had already docked, and only then could it barely distinguish the passengers on board.

The townsfolk relaxed a little—they weren't pirates, and there were men and women in the crowd who stepped onto the docks, judging by their stature, and children; The skin tone ranges from white to brown, and the hairstyle is also normal.

These uninvited guests did not seem to have come for war, so to speak, they were not like invaders, but more like they had escaped from some kind of disaster. The townspeople's fears quickly turned to sympathy. They began to wonder what kind of catastrophe would drive these people out into the sea - where did they come from? Kingdom of Gilneis? Or the kingdom of Kurtilas? Was it the tsunami that destroyed their homeland, or the cruel pirates?

More ships arrived one after another. The refugees slowly landed one after another. A few people even lay down on the shore and cheered; The fog gradually dissipated at this time, and disappeared in the morning light. The townspeople saw more clearly - this was indeed a group of refugees - a group of ragged and exhausted refugees.

A tall man in armor led a few refugees towards the onlookers - he was balding, with a resolute face and a thick white beard. His armor had clearly been through countless battles, covered with scratches large and small, but polished to a shiny finish; The long, wide saber swayed gently and rhythmically with his steps, and he looked like a real military man.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We are refugees from the South, just fleeing a terrible war. For the Light's sake, we plead for some fresh water and food, and if we can, a place to rest. ”

The leading whitebeard warrior shouted to the crowd.

The townsfolk exchanged glances and nodded to each other - they wouldn't watch women and children suffer.

However, no townspeople spoke out, because the local garrison of Southsea Town, Marcus? Redpass had arrived at the docks with a large group of militiamen - the townsfolk were waiting for him to speak.

"Who's coming? This is the territory of the kingdom of Lordaeron, and the wise King Terenus rules here to report your intentions, stranger! ”

Marcus? Redpass shouted—he was on a tall horse, his silver armor and sharp spear tips gleaming, a stark contrast to the ragged refugees.

Marcus, of course, noticed the women and children among the refugees, and he was just as sympathetic; However, he did not forget his duty, and he swore allegiance to the Minahir family to defend the land to the death.

"My name is Anduin? Lothar, Marshal of Stormwind. Standing beside me is the last heir of House Wrynn, the future king of Stormwind. ”

The leading old warrior touched his bald forehead and replied as he pointed to a young man standing beside him, looking a little nervous.

"Stormwind? That's on the south side of the continent, across the ocean from us! Why are you here? ”

Marcus asked, puzzled—what was going on on the other side of the Endless Sea?"

"That's right, Your Excellency. But as you can see, I can talk to you here until the sun goes down, but the others are running out of their way. I can answer all your questions, but can you please give us a little water and food first? ”

Anduin? Lothar took two steps forward, not paying the slightest attention to the sharp spear in Marcus's hand, and shouted loudly.

"I'm sorry, Your Excellency, it was my negligence......"

Marcus jumped off his horse, dropped his spear, apologized, and beckoned his soldiers to join the townsfolk as he took the baggage of his fellow southerners who had just finished their voyage and led them to the center of the town of Southsea - he was responsible for defending the territory, but Marcus did not want anyone to faint on the docks because of his endless questioning. (To be continued.) )