Chapter 19: Traces of the Sons of Lothar |
"Sons of Lothar?"
Hearing this name, Wen Lei's expression clearly became somewhat off. He slightly turned his face away, his gaze drifting towards the roadside bushes as if they had suddenly become extraordinarily interesting.
Even Varian's expression became somewhat unnatural. He silently cursed to himself: How could I have forgotten about this?
Of course he knew that recently the Sons of Lothar were heading towards the Blasted Lands to build a fortress there, Watchtower, and Darkshire was indeed a necessary route.
The group continued along the muddy road. To ease the awkwardness brought by the silence, Allen casually asked:
"Why would the Sons of Lothar be here?"
Morgan answered honestly: "I don't know that. It's said it's related to the Dark Portal."
"The Dark Portal?" Varian feigned ignorance, "Wasn't the Dark Portal already closed?"
He certainly knew the truth. Recently, large numbers of orcs had emerged again in the Blasted Lands. Who knew from which remote corner those green skins had crawled out.
But these were military secrets, not suitable for detailed discussion in public.
Listening to their conversation, fragments of memories vaguely surfaced in Allen's mind.
Year 8 after the Dark Portal...
This timeframe seemed to be right before the events of Warcraft III. Ner'zhul from Draenor was plotting to reopen the Dark Portal, could it be related to that?
But soon he shook his head.
No matter what, these high-level power struggles were not something a newly transmigrated nobody like him could get involved in.
He just wanted to find Stalvan, fulfill his promise to Milana, then quietly lie low in Stormwind, or go to the countryside to buy some land, farm, raise chickens, staying far away from those world-destroying messes... Well, at least that was the plan for now.
"Ahem," he cleared his throat lightly, "We're just going to Darkshire to handle some minor matters. We probably... should avoid disturbing the heroes of the Sons of Lothar."
Wen Lei nodded vigorously, and Varian also nodded vigorously.
Wen Lei was afraid of meeting Alleria Windrunner; Varian was afraid of meeting Turalyon.
The former goes without saying; Wen Lei had sneaked out behind his sister's back, just to prove he could become a qualified ranger and was undergoing his trial.
The latter, Turalyon, as the current Supreme Commander of the Alliance, was basically Varian's guardian. It was Turalyon who brought the refugee Varian back to Stormwind to inherit the throne, and the regency council ministers were also arranged by Turalyon.
If Turalyon found out he had sneaked out of Stormwind and come to this backwater to investigate some massacre case...
Emerging from the forest, Allen, Stella, and Wen Lei returned to the carriage.
Morgan walked ahead leading the way, sinking into deep internal conflict.
What to do?
Judging by these people's reactions, they seemed... suspicious!
That one called Mathias, his expression became unnatural upon hearing Sons of Lothar; that one called Wen Lei was even more obviously avoiding something.
Could they be outlaws? Could they have committed crimes in Stormwind and fled to Darkshire to lay low?
As a righteous paladin, if he discovered these people were outlaws, he should rightfully apprehend them and hand them over to the local authorities.
But...
They had just saved his life! Without them, he would have long been food in Lupos's belly.
Morgan was locked in intense internal struggle: Repay the debt of gratitude, or enforce the law? This was a problem.
Just as he was agonizing so hard his eyebrows were about to twist into knots, a situation arose on the road ahead.
A checkpoint blocked the center of the road, with several soldiers wearing standard Alliance armor inspecting passersby.
Next to the barricade stood a wooden sign that read: "Military Restricted Area, Please Cooperate with Inspection."
It was too late to hide; those soldiers had already noticed them.
Morgan had no choice but to brace himself and lead the group forward.
A soldier who looked like a sergeant stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the group, speaking in a routine manner:
"Where are you from? What brings you to Darkshire?"
Allen thought, fortunately they had just saved a local of Darkshire, and a paladin at that. With him vouching, it shouldn't raise any unnecessary suspicion.
"Ahem, well... this officer, I, I am Morgan Ladimore, a paladin of the Holy Light." His voice was tight, his tongue as if tied in knots, "These people are, are my... well... lifesavers, they are good people, definitely not bad people, I can swear by the Holy Light, although the Holy Light isn't always accurate but I think they are probably good people..."
The soldiers' expressions gradually turned subtle.
An older soldier frowned: "So... who exactly are they? Where are they from? What are they doing in Darkshire?"
"They are from, from..." Cold sweat beaded on Morgan's forehead. He realized he didn't actually know where these people came from, "Anyway, they came from over there! They came to Darkshire to, to..."
The soldiers exchanged a look.
"Please have the people in the carriage step down," the sergeant's tone became serious, "for inspection."
Varian, riding his horse, was the first in line. A young soldier stepped forward and began a routine body search.
Varian had no choice but to cooperate, raising his hands and letting the soldier frisk him.
When the soldier reached his waist, his hand suddenly froze.
From inside Varian's belt, he pulled out an exquisite signet ring. The ring face was engraved with a golden Stormwind lion head crest, surrounded by intricate cursive script.
The soldier's hands began to tremble.
He stared at the ring in disbelief, turning it over three times. Then, trembling, he raised the ring to show his companion beside him.
The companion leaned over to look and was also stunned.
The two fell into completely different trains of thought.
The young soldier's heart pounded wildly, only one thought in his mind: This this this this this... a thief actually dared to steal the King's Signet Ring?! A monumental achievement was right before his eyes! Capture this thief, promotion and riches were within reach!
His hand had already quietly moved towards the hilt of his blade at his waist.
The older soldier's heart also pounded wildly, but a different thought was in his mind: This this this this this... King Varian is actually traveling incognito, personally coming to Darkshire?! A monumental achievement was right before his eyes! Perform well before His Majesty the King, promotion and riches were within reach!
The two looked at each other, nodded, each thinking the other understood their meaning.
The older soldier was just about to open his mouth to salute, when suddenly he felt...
Huh? Why was his neck suddenly feeling itchy?
He subconsciously turned his head, just in time to see the young soldier's hand already gripping his sword hilt, body leaning slightly forward, gaze fixed intently on Varian's back, drawing his blade ready to apprehend this outrageously bold thief.