"Thank you," the warrior told the village headman, who had introduced himself as Marcus Redpath. "I know you cannot spare much, and I am grateful for what you have given us."

"We will not let women and children suffer," Marcus replied. He frowned, studying the other man's armor and sword. "Now tell me, who are you and why are you here?"

"My name is Anduin Lothar," the warrior answered, running a hand over his forehead. "I am—I was—the Knight Champion of Stormwind."

"Stormwind?" Marcus had heard of the nation. "But that is across the sea!"

"Yes." Lothar nodded sadly. "We sailed for days to reach this land. We are in Lordaeron, are we not?"

"We are," the violet—robed one commented, speaking for the first time. "I recognize the land, though not this village." His voice was surprisingly strong for one so old, though up close only his hair and the lines on his face suggested advanced age. Otherwise he seemed barely more than a youth.

"This is Southshore," Marcus told them, eyeing the white—bearded young man warily. "You are from Dalaran?" he asked at last, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Aye," the stranger acknowledged. "And do not fear—I will be returning there as soon as my companions can travel."

Marcus tried not to let his relief show. The wizards of Dalaran were powerful and he had heard the king treated them as allies and advisers, but for himself Marcus wanted no truck with magic or its wielders.

"We must not delay," Lothar was agreeing. "I must speak with the king at once. We dare not give the Horde time to move again."

Marcus did not understand this comment but he recognized the urgency in the stocky warrior's tone. "The women and children may stay here a time," he assured them. "We will care for them."