The large human settlements have always been one of the most defenseed of all the races of Azeroth, if you don't count the Minotaur cities built on huge stone pillars or alpine terraces.

Stratholme, the second largest city in the kingdom of Lordaeron, despite the seldom of war, still has a thick wall more than ten meters high and a large number of towering arrow towers. As with the design of most human cities, the gates are T-shaped openings under the walls that connect left and right, which are meant to prevent highly mobile enemies from breaking down the gates.

In front of the gate, a stone arch bridge wide enough for five carriages to run in parallel was attached. Beneath the bridge is a dark lake, and because it is connected to an underground river, the water level barely fluctuates much throughout the year.

The deep and dark waters of the lake, combined with the terrifying and terrifying high walls, have been the guarantee of Stantholm's safety for many years. Whether it's trolls coming out of the forest to raid, or kobolds and gnolls coming to the human world to fight the autumn winds, they never fail to challenge this city armed to the teeth.

Although the city legally belonged to the kingdom of Lordaeron, it was mainly the disgraced nobles who had been excluded from the upper echelons of Lordaeron who were advocating a new home here, so from the beginning the people of this land never had a sense of belonging to the Minethil family who sat on the throne.

Even a few decades ago, stories were rife in the streets of Stratholme about how the Minethil family had used a conspiracy to usurp the throne of Lordaeron and then eliminate dissidents and brutalize the nobles of previous dynasties.

Coupled with the fact that it was far from the political center of the kingdom of Lordaeron, the people had little affection for the king, only reverence, especially after the great number of the Coming had been punished for slandering the prince.

Not only the local aristocracy, led by the Capel family and the Rofal family, but even the ordinary residents of Stratholme, were full of expectations to become the sole leader and ask for Lordaeron's strict taxes.

As a side note, because Stratholme was the most direct and convenient first stop for trade with Quel'Thalas, a large number of merchants and amazing wealth were born here. It was for this reason that the nobles in the royal capital encouraged the king to impose a heavy burden on the merchant tax.

In addition, because Stratholme is adjacent to a large number of humanoid races, the food crops outside the city are often destroyed, and the huge food gap has been filled by the high price of food transferred from the black-hearted merchants of Ambermere.

In addition to the powerful military deterrent power of the Lordaeron Kingdom, it is the most fatal point to be directly choked by people with food. However, with the annual clearance of the surrounding area and the emergence of a large amount of newly cultivated farmland, Stratholme has begun to gradually become self-sufficient and has a certain degree of autonomy.

If there is no prophecy that the orcs and adventurers who may sweep the continent with iron and blood to slaughter the city, then for Stratholme's request to strengthen his own voice, perhaps the Kingdom of Lordaeron will choose to slowly plan and use various means to encircle and divide this newly rising power, rather than directly and violently attacking.

D'Artagnan is a native of Stratholme, yes, Stratholme. Without Lordaeron's sight, he was only proud to be in Stratholme. Today, the middle-aged warrior in his thirties led the city guard's men on patrol near the city gates as usual.

The city guard in Stratholme was a good errand, and in addition to settling some fights and disputes between neighbors, it was a paid walk and an office. The environment is good, the harvest is guaranteed by drought and flood, and there is never a bad thing about arrears of wages, and compared with those regular soldiers and caravan guards who lick blood with knives and come and go in the wind and rain, it can be said that they are more than enough.

Because this heavily armed wall has hardly ever been used since Stratholme was built, for him the so-called patrol, that is, a group of big men who set up a bonfire around the city gate, talk about the shortcomings of the family, and brag about the skin. As for the real task, it was handed over to the unlucky guy who was drawn to sign and was arranged to go to the castle tower to guard.

However, today there are obviously people who don't want him to call a happy day and go home. Just as a group of people were drinking small wines and waiting for dawn, the quiet and peaceful atmosphere was shattered by the shaking under their feet and the shouts coming from the city walls.

At first it was a small trembling sound, then it turned into a dull drum like a cloth, and finally a huge roar like thunder. By this time, in the dim light of the fire, d'Artagnan, who had hurriedly climbed the city wall, could already see the visitors stepping onto the bridge deck - a large group of cavalry!

It was a group of knights dressed in dark plate armor and wearing full-face battle helmets. On the left and right sides of the horses were elongated special mounted spears and half-length shields bearing the royal insignia of Lordaeron, with a long sword tied around his waist, and a banner embroidered with a blue double-headed eagle fluttering high in front of the procession.

At a glance, he recognized the origin of this group from the insignia on the shield and the pattern on the flag—troops from the royal family of Lordaeron. Of course, this is not because of his broad vision as the captain of the garrison, but because the flag of the Second Legion of the Kingdom that had come to Stratholme a while ago was exactly the same as theirs.

However, out of an abundance of caution, he did not immediately arrange to pull up the heavy characteristic hanging door under the city walls, but excluded a henchman to inform the commander of the city guard.

The cavalry rushed through the arch bridge like a tidal wave and stopped at a distance of about a dozen meters from the city wall. But the movement outside the city continued, and d'Artagnan knew that it was because the ranks were followed by a large number of infantry. But the sky was so dark that even if you looked far away, you still couldn't tell how many people were in the team in front of you.

The cavalry under the walls parted to the sides, making way for a passage, and a figure riding a war horse from the Alterac Highlands, who looked like a leader, rode up to the front and shouted: "We are the second legion of the kingdom, open the door!" ”

"Stand in the firelight, take off your helmet, and hand over your token!"

Although he was shocked by the situation in front of him and broke out in a cold sweat, d'Artagnan still did not immediately order the release, but adhered to the principle of official business and asked for the verification of the token.

However, his real intention was to wait until the Commander arrived. Because this group of cavalry reminded him of a terrible fact, that is, all the guards in the city were now less than half of the original number, and if he rashly let them go, it would be like opening the sheepfold for the hungry wolf, and he could not and did not dare to bear this possible consequence.

The other party seemed to be prepared, and obediently took out a document and an insignia from his horse's bag, put them in the basket that had been lowered from the city, and returned to the ranks.

"It seems that these loose fellows are not useless, Master Kel'thugad, I'm afraid I'm going to trouble you to do it yourself," said the knight, who turned into the ranks, respectfully to the young mage hiding in the cavalry.

"According to Mentor Antonidas, I will be responsible for clearing your team of obstacles to entering the city, and as for the rest, I will not interfere."

As a high-ranking mage from Dalaran's orthodox background, although he was troubled by problems with his research direction and rumors from the Advent, Kel'thugad still maintained his arrogance in the face of warriors who only knew how to think with muscles.