Northeast of Hillsbrad Foothills, in the County of Caer Darrow
The Barov family's castle was situated on a perfect island surrounded by water on all sides. The beautiful Lake Darrowmere served not only as the castle's most stunning scenery but also as its best moat.
On the southern side of the island, where the terrain was gentler, the essence of the Barov family's industries was concentrated.
Massive blacksmith shops stood in a row, and thick chimneys spewed billowing black smoke at all times.
People bustled around the island, and merchants' caravans were a constant sight.
On the western side of the island, there was an evidently large-scale harbor that went beyond civilian use. Duke even spotted small warships there, clearly intended to defend the Barov family's stronghold.
The island was not completely cut off from the shore. A massive stone bridge about 200 meters long, wide enough for four carriages to pass side by side, connected the island to the main road onshore. The lake was not deep; the water was only about two meters deep, and one could see the bottom through the clear water.
Of course, built into the hill and guarding the entire Barov castle, there were at least ten huge cannons aimed at the shore. If someone were to lead an army down the narrow mountain road, it would be a real-life live-fire exercise. No attacking force would survive crossing that bridge.
Duke halted his horse by the shore.
Had it not been for Duke's intervention, this thriving island would become a terrifyingly desolate and horrifying place in just over a decade. The entire Barov family would be wiped out, and the area would be occupied by the cursed sect of Kel'Thuzad, who had pledged allegiance to the Lich King, turning it into the famous Scholomance in the 'history of the future.'
Duke would never forget how he and a group of friends had been wiped out time and time again in the game at this very place.
They had been wiped out so many times they remembered every critical point.
Duke suddenly let out a soft sigh.
"Master, what's the matter?" Marco, serving as Duke's attendant, asked with concern.
"Nothing, just a bit of a nostalgic sentiment."
At that moment, one of Duke's scouts rode back.
"Report, there seems to be some trouble up ahead."
Marco frowned, "Didn't we inform them in advance of His Grace the Duke's visit?"
"Yes, that's correct. But a merchant caravan suddenly overturned on the bridge, spilling a large amount of cargo and causing a livestock stampede. The only bridge to the island is now blocked. The Barov family has apologized and asked us to wait a moment," the scout reported.
Marco's face darkened like ink, "What about the ferry?"
"They were all dispatched before we notified them."
This was no mistake; it was a deliberate snub!
"Master, shall we..."
Duke didn't seem to care and laughed instead, "Ha! The Barovs really think we're beggars, huh?"
"I'll go clear those nuisances on the bridge." Marco was determined and motioned to the guards, ready to charge and push the obstructing objects into the water.
"No need," Duke pointed his whip towards the castle on the island, "I want to show the Barovs that before I am a duke, I am first and foremost a powerful mage, and the kingdom of Stormwind has not been destroyed. Pass the order: change to spiked horseshoes."
Spiked horseshoes?
Horseshoes could protect the horses' hooves from cracking, but spiked horseshoes were only used in icy and snowy conditions. Fortunately, their party had traveled along the snow-covered edge of the Alterac Mountains, so spiked horseshoes were prepared.
They were quickly changed.
At this very moment, within the Barov Castle, Duke Alexei Barov received a report from his men.
"They've stopped?"
"Yes. They stopped before they even approached the bridge."
"Just let them cool down for a bit. I don't mean to humiliate them, but I don't want to see this young duke making a fuss right away. In times of turmoil, food is quite precious."
Just then, hurried footsteps were heard outside the door. It was another one of Lord Barov's personal guards.
"Your Grace, they're coming! Sir Duke Marcus and his party are coming!"
Lord Barov frowned, as his personal guard rarely lost his composure. If it was a normal arrival, it wouldn't have made him rush in so breathlessly. Duke Marcus must have used some unexpected means to cross the hundred-meter-wide waters.
"How did they come?"
"Ice! Marcus has frozen the entire lake!"
Upon hearing the report, Lord Barov hurriedly strode out of the room and went to a balcony on the other side of the castle, which was close to the southern bridge.
He witnessed a scene he would never forget.
Above, the warm sun shone brightly.
Before his eyes, miles of frozen lake.
The entire surface of Darrowmere Lake, which served as a natural barrier for Caer Darrow, was frozen solid. A party on horseback galloped across the slippery ice, charging straight towards the castle. The thunderous sound of hooves alerted countless people working on the island.
Not far away, Lord Barov saw his captain of the guards looking dumbfounded, holding a warning bell in his hand but not knowing whether to ring it or not.
Fortunately, at the last moment, the captain saw Lord Barov.
The Duke sighed and made a beckoning gesture.
The captain, relieved, commanded, "Open the gates! Welcome our distinguished guests—"
In reality, the gates had been left open in order to feign a sense of busyness. But having guards lined up to welcome the guests made a significant difference.
As if perfectly timed, the Barov private soldiers finished lining up and blew the welcoming horn just as Duke Maccus arrived.
Duke Maccus nudged his horse's belly, and his pure white steed galloped across the frozen lake surface.
At this moment, Duke Maccus, framed by the backdrop of flying snow, appeared nothing short of otherworldly.
He wore a tall, split mage crown with white and purple patterns reaching towards the sky, a flowing white mage robe with blue borders, unique to the Stormwind Kingdom, a belt imbued with a deadly aura and emitting a mysterious arcane blue glow, and a waist ornament with flickering lightning that caught the eye.
His pure white cape fluttered in the snowy wind, revealing the golden rune patterns embroidered on it.
Though he looked like a gentle and refined young man, he gave off the impression of a deity who had just emerged from a blizzard.
Treading on ice, Duke Maccus' warhorse roared like a dragon.
His grand entrance startled Lord Barov, who had come out to greet him.
Beside him, Marco pulled the reins and gracefully dismounted, then immediately announced, "Court mage of the Stormwind Kingdom, Duke of Karazhan, Destroyer of a Hundred Thousand Orcs—Duke Duke Maccus has arrived—"
Duke's private army promptly opened the boxes on the carts.
Two carts full of glittering gold bars and two carts full of frozen orc heads.
Lord Barov's eyelids twitched.
That is all for now. New cover art releases tomorrow. It will be a slightly younger looking King Terenas Menethil II than cannon in some sweet armor