"Boom, boom!"

A loud roar of thunder came from the sea in the distance, and Parest turned his head to see a large cloud mixed with lightning quickly drifting towards the harbor.

Huge sea breezes began to rush from the sea into the port city, and the smell of fishy mixed with an unknown stench wafted throughout the docks.

Heavy rain followed, and the sky, which was still gloomy, was instantly covered by a torrential downpour.

Winds, torrential rains, crashing waves on the docks one after another, huge sprays and raindrops crashing mercilessly on Parest's body. They happily marched through the gaps in their armor, ignoring the man's trembling body.

Parest swung his arms forward with difficulty, his white-blue half-length coat of arms shielding against the wind from his side, and his heavy armor patrolling the empty docks.

However, with each step he took, he was knocked back by the wind and the blizzard, and just as he was in a dilemma, he sensed someone tugging at his robe behind him.

In order not to be blown away by the strong winds, he stuck the shield attached to his left arm to the guardrail of the dock. When he turned his head, his superior, Corporal Rod, was shouting something to him.

The storm and the sound of the waves had drowned out all the sound.

Parest looked blankly at the captain in front of him, his vision was about to blur. He wiped the rain from his face with the white-blue gloves that were already soaked from his hands, and then shouted.

"I can't hear you say, Captain Rhodes!"

As if too lazy to say anything to Paraste, Captain Rhodes turned around and tugged at the shirt on his chest, motioning for him to follow him.

Parest cautiously followed the captain towards the stone watchtower at the far end of the guardrail.

Upon reaching the watchtower, the door was opened from the inside, and several hands stretched out from inside to pull the two of them in from the outside of the room.

When the door closed behind Parest, the roar of the wind outside the house and the sound of raindrops hitting the house suddenly became much quieter, and the world regained some calm in his ears.

"Take it, recruit, you need a little bit of this."

Parest shuddered as he looked at the small bottle in his hand that was stretched out in front of him, it was a loose bottle of rum. He didn't dare to reach out to take it, but turned his head to look at the captain who had pulled him in.

Rhodes didn't speak, he quickly took off his armor, and the soldiers on the side also came up to help him remove his armor.

Drops of rain and sweat trickled down Rhodes' scarred bald head, and he grabbed the man's rum and took a big sip.

"Hiccup... Child! ”

With a satisfied burp, Rhodes stuffed the bottle in his hand directly into the arms of the recruit next to him.

"Take off your armor and take a big sip to warm up by the fire." Rod pushed the others away and sat down by the fire in the middle of the house, patting the empty stone next to him and motioning for Parest to sit next to him.

For those who dared to wander the docks in stormy weather, the soldiers of Theramore looked at Parest with more foolish eyes.

"Go on, boy, don't catch a cold."

"You're certainly not from Kul Tiras, you're not even someone who has lived by the sea." One of the soldiers, a gray-bearded veteran, helped Parest take off his armor and said, "Don't you know that when the storm comes, you ought to hide in the house?" ”

"I ...... Not yet.... After patrolling the docks. ”

With the help of the others, Parest shuddered and took off his armor and laid them out neatly on his own armor stand. Then he walked to the fire with the soothing wine bottle in his arms, and his already soaked robe.

"Recruit, if the next storm comes, you should hide in the house like us. Otherwise, if you are blown to the ground by the strong wind, you run the risk of being blown into the dock. The old soldier who spoke pointed to the armor they had placed in the house and continued, "You know how much this thing weighs. If you fall into the sea in armor, we will have to pray for you at that time. ”

Parest nodded in fear, he took the bottle in his hand, and drank it in small sips, the warm wine with the heat soon made his limbs less stiff.

"He's not a Kul Tiras," Captain Rhodes sat by the fire, his bare head gleaming in the light of the fire.

"He's just like me, he's a Lordaeron. Before we... It's neighbors. ”

The atmosphere in the room was somewhat oppressive, no one tried to answer, and no one wanted to say anything. Everyone's ears were filled with the crackling sound of the stone house walls crashing against the wind and rain.

Lordaeron, a name that once represented pride and glory, made the expressions of some people present very depressed.

And now, they are Theramores......

The composition of the Theramore is somewhat complex, with 90% of their civilians coming from Lordaeron. When the Scourge of the Dead began to wreak havoc in the kingdom of Lordaeron, some commoners and nobles believed and followed Gianna Prodimore, the princess of the kingdom of Kul Tiras and the illustrious disciple of Antonidas, the leader of the mages of Dalaran, to the ancient continent of Kalimdor, across the sea from the continent of Lordaeron.

Here, they founded this humble harbor city with their dwarven allies who helped them.

Theramore.

Life away from their homeland is undoubtedly difficult, they compete with the ogres of this land for survival, and there is an irreconcilable conflict with the orcs who are also breathing on this continent.

As the master of Theramore, the eldest daughter of the king of Kurtilas, Gianna made an alliance with the orc chieftain Thrall for various reasons.

Until......

Rod shook his head, trying to suppress the unbearable memories in his mind.

In the room, everyone was silent as they watched the bonfire in the middle, surrounded by tiny stones.

"I have heard from the merchant ships from Lordaeron that the High Lord Mograini has organized a rebel army, and they have established themselves in the Tirisfalin Glades."

A soldier interrupted the oppressive silence in the room.

"The knights of the Silver Hand have re-established the banner of Lordaeron on that scorched earth." The soldier looked at the silent people around him, and he looked down at his chest.

The robe on his chest was no longer the L-shaped letter of Lordaeron it once was, but a large blue iron anchor with a white background. Only in the upper left corner of this iron anchor is a small L letter that has shrunk several times.

"I think they're going to need me," the soldier rubbed the L against his right chest, "there.... It used to be my home..... I've dreamed of paradise countless times at night...."

The soldier's words caused Rhodes to rub his smooth head as he smacked his lips and looked around at the other soldiers in the tower. Except for a few sailors from Kurtilas, their expressions were very heavy, but they were completely different from the soldiers from Lordaeron.

Grief is not acted, it is from the heart.

"It'll be fine, the Lordaerons won't be defeated," Rod said with his hands as he placed them around the fire, and he looked at the light of the fire so intently that all he could see was the dancing flames.

It's going to be fine, I swear! At the same time, I also trust Ms. Gianna, she will help us!

Storms howled, mixed with huge seawater shuttling through the Theramores, and the narrow streets were filled with rainwater, which was quickly draining down the pouring streets towards the distant harbor.

In the midst of this extreme weather, a messenger is heading towards the highest point of the city in the face of wind and rain.

There towered a slender and delicate tower known to the locals as the residence of their queen, the Mage's Tower.

As the eldest daughter of the king of Kul Tiras, a distinguished archmage, the queen of Theramore. It's not surprising to have your own mage tower and use it as your place to live.

When the messenger reached the perimeter of the Wizard's Tower, the sound of the wind and rain quickly diminished, as if something had kept them out.

As she stood on a parchment stall that was dry on a stormy day, one lamp after another began to glow white on the path to the Mage's Tower.

The rain was also removed from the Courier's clothes, and they floated in the air before being removed from the sides of the road.

While the messenger waited patiently, a misshapen fat man floated slowly from the very front of the road.

It has a white-blue complexion, but it has no physical body, it is twisted by pure magic, and its body is composed entirely of ever-shifting fine energy.

"Hello, please give me the information you need to deliver." The sound of the machine came from its air, and the courier did not hesitate as she opened the leather bag that clutched her chest, pulled out a sealed glass bottle from it, and dropped it in front of the Arcane golem.

It seemed as if there was something at work that she couldn't see, and the bottle floated right in front of the Arcane Golem.

"Thank you for your help to Theramore, soldier. Please go down and rest. A tired female voice suddenly erupted from the puppet's air, and with a wave of its hand, a cloud of energy detached from the arcane golem and attached to the courier's body.

"It is my pleasure, Her Majesty." The Courier bowed respectfully to the white-blue fat man, and then stepped back away from the magically covered area.

Once again, the Courier standing outside was protected by magic, and the storm did not affect her.

When the messenger had left, the fat man slowly turned around and walked along the street lamps on both sides to the mage's tower.