[Not far from the Inn, by the fountain is one newly arrived, and rather bewildered Tirion Fordring. The Ashbringer is in the paladin's hand as he looks around, trying to figure out just where he is. This isn't Crusader's Pinnacle. It's not even close to being Icecrown. Maaaaybe it could possibly pass as Grizzly Hills or Howling Fjord in a pinch,
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Greetings, Highlord.
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Greetings, Death Knight. I don't suppose you could tell me just where I am?
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[A roll of Krenyn's shoulders expresses a brief shrug. Polite and respectful as he is, the elf - probably understandably so - keeps his distance. Paladins, especially ones of Tirion's calibur, weren't the most comforting of feelings. No offense.]
You'll find out as much as anyone knows, in time. There is, as yet, no way to leave.
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Undoubtedly the Bronze Flight must have their reasons, but this is still quite troubling.
You have my thanks.
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[surprised Mograine is surprised]
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Alexandros Mograine?
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This is more confusing than I expected it to be. And that discounts the odd bazaar I partook in a while ago.
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Valeera, after that humilitating tableau with the bunny suit, finally poked her head out of her hiding spot.
Highlord Tirion Fordring? My stars, this is a day to remember.
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Greetings m'lady.
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