When Diego flew over Stratholme with the griffin knights of the Hammerhammer Dwarves, he never imagined that he would one day see such a scene.

The streets were empty of a single person, dead or alive. The whole city is opening its arms and waiting for them. Originally, the imaginary Scourgeon Legion couldn't even see a shadow!

"What's going on?" They looked at each other, and everyone had this question written on their faces.

"Go down and have a look!" Diego made a landing gesture towards Brian Copperbeard, and then led the Harbinger to his mount and descend into an open field. There is King's Square, with a long view, flat and wide, and you can take off quickly even if there are traps below.

Brian left a small group to continue soaring through the sky on guard, and then led the rest of the company to follow Diego down.

There are no traps in the square, and no enemies hiding in the shadows jumping around. They jumped off their mounts, looked around, and then marched in a cordon formation toward the street leading to the market district. It was the way to the Scourge Lair.

The streets were covered with a thick layer of silt, the yellow-brown mud from Lake Daron Mill, which had now been blackened by the pervasive ashes of Stratholme, and was mixed with broken planks and broken bones, which had long since dried and cracked after days of exposure, making the streets look like the bottom of a dry lake, and their feet rattled on it.

The walls on both sides of the street were littered with obvious traces of water, the highest point almost three meters above the ground, and although it was about the same height as the water level of Lake Daron Mill had dropped, how could the area of Stratholme compare to the vast smoke of Lake Daron Mill. The gap between the two is more than enough to fill in a psychic academy.

Diego walked through the ruins of the city with emotion, looking at every dilapidated or intact building next to the street, as if browsing a living historical picture. The tragic past has left an indelible mark on the city, and it is here that the once kind, passionate, upright, and brave Prince Lordaeron is blinded by hatred and lust and embarks on a depraved path in the blind pursuit of power.

Once Stratholme was a shining pearl in the northern part of the kingdom of Lordaeron, relying on the geographical advantages of the elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas, which is adjacent to the north, the border trade here flourished and accumulated a lot of wealth. Grain, leather, ore, and liquor from humans passed through here to sell to the north, and there was also a market for jewelry, alchemical potions, magical creations, and all kinds of fine works of art made by the elves.

However, in the twentieth year after the opening of the Dark Gate, at the beginning of the Scourge War, the prince Arthas, who had been tracking down the source of the plague problem in the kingdom, came here, and when he found that the inhabitants of Stratholme were infected with the undead plague, in order to prevent these infected from eventually becoming a member of the Scourge Legion, Arthas frantically ordered the slaughter. City, swung a bloody butcher's knife at his subjects! To this end, he even went so far as to dismiss Uther, the Lightbringer who had obstructed him, and disbanded the Knights of the Silver Hand. Later historians agree that this madness was the first step in his descent into darkness and eventually into the new Lich King!

On that day, the prosperous city of Stratholme turned into hell, and Arthas not only slaughtered its inhabitants, but also burned the entire city to stop the spread of the plague. It was on this day that part of Arthas died, and when he left Stratholme behind and swung away, he also abandoned most of his humanity in the ruins and scorched earth.

Today, most of the wooden parts of these buildings have been burned, but the solid stone foundations and walls remain, and they are charred and blackened everywhere, with traces of smoke and fire everywhere. The undead who later entrenched themselves built several new structures such as psychic towers, slaughterhouses, crypts, and cemeteries, but they did not destroy the old houses here, so even though there were ruins and wreckage everywhere, the general appearance of the city was preserved.

But the resentment of the slaughtered and the subsequent contamination of the city by plagues and plagues have made the city eerie, with a thick smell of death that threatens to drown every living person who enters it. However, after the great flood of holy light energy a few days ago, a large part of the death aura on the ruins has been cleansed, but even so, this silent and empty city is still terrifying, as if in a ghost realm.

Diego and his party walked silently through the streets, unable to hear anything but their own footsteps and wheezing. The silence around them was terrifying, as if the slaughtered souls were hiding in the ruins, behind the doors, in the dark alleys watching their every move, their hatred and despair turning into invisible tentacles, waving their teeth and claws around them, threatening to drag them into the darkness from which they would never recover. From time to time, someone suddenly looked back behind him in horror, and felt a little relieved when he saw his companion following him.

Passing through the market area, which had been almost completely burned down, they came to a narrow street - the festival trail. Of course, narrow is narrow, but it's not really just as wide as the trail, and it's okay to accommodate at least two four-wheeled carriages in opposite rows.

Due to the narrow streets and crowded buildings, the area was completely devastated by the fire, and almost all the houses were burned down, and if they did not collapse, most of them were left with a charred black empty shelf.

So when they walked about half a mile down the street and saw a small two-story building in good condition, it was hard to describe the surprise and disbelief in their hearts. Because compared to the dilapidated buildings along the way, this small building is so well preserved that not even a single piece of glass on the windows has been broken.

It is a typical Lordaeron style two-storey street store, the first floor is used for the shopkeepers, and the second floor is used for the owner, and some of these houses have a small backyard that can be used as a warehouse or craft workshop. At the moment, the door on the first floor is closed, and several thick wooden planks are nailed horizontally to it. No one believed that it was the planks that kept it intact, but they couldn't think of any other reason for that for a while.

Diegormo silently held out two fingers and made a search gesture towards the building.

At the order, a team of dwarves immediately left the group and ran towards the two-story building.

Breaking doors, shields, breaking in, hammering dwarves with swiftness and fluidity, and things that the undead and natural disasters didn't do were easy for them to do.

There was no shouting, no sound of weapons clashing, and a few minutes later, a dwarf came out of the house with a wooden box in his hand.

"There's nothing in there!" The dwarf who led the team lowered his voice and said, he opened the lid of the box, "Except for this, it's an unexpected surprise!" ”

What appeared in front of everyone's eyes was a neatly stacked boxy paper bag.

"What is this?" Brian asked curiously.

"Tobacco, Fras Shiabi brand tobacco, it is said that the juice of the purple lotus is added to it, and smoking it can make people feel like they are in a fairyland!" The team leader said mysteriously, he turned his head and looked behind Brian, "Come, those who see it have a share, one bag per person!" ”

The dwarves let out a suppressed cheer and swarmed up, each taking a bag from the chest. For the dwarves, tobacco has always been an indispensable necessity, second only to spirits in the life of the dwarves. And in their opinion, everything in this city of death can be considered ownerless, and they have no psychological burden at all when they pick it up.

"Isn't this the Azeroth version of big. Hemp! Diego couldn't help but laugh a little, as far as he knew, the Purple Lotus was the main ingredient for making dream elixirs, but it didn't come to be. Addictive, on the contrary, it also has the effect of calming the mind and calming the mood, which helps to increase the speed of mana recovery for the caster, which is a rare good thing.

Diego, who owned a dwarven pipe, reached out and took a pack from the crate as well. Although he had heard of this tobacco merchant named Fras Siabi in his previous life, he did not know that his tobacco still had this effect. Well, I've seen it for a long time.

He tore open a small puff in the paper bag and sniffed it gently, and a fragrant aroma came to his nose, refreshing his heart. The tobacco was well preserved, not damp or moldy, and even after so many years, the taste was still as mellow as ever, and he could even clearly feel that his originally somewhat nervous mood was quickly relaxed

Just as he was stuffing the tobacco into his pocket, a faint necromantic breath suddenly came out of the house, cold, but not evil.

"Who? Who's where? Diego subconsciously whispered, and he raised his death gaze and looked in the direction of the house.