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Varian felt something stir inside himself now—something old, or young, or perhaps long forgotten. It was almost like a feeling of childlike… fear?
He shook off the notion immediately. He was Lo’Gosh, the Ghost Wolf. The gladiator warrior who struck fear in the hearts of his enemies and friends alike. Still, he could not shake the primal feeling of unease and danger that now pervaded his body. Stepping out into the hall, Varian noticed his guards were not at their usual stations. Is everyone preoccupied with Remembrance Day? Or is this something more sinister?
He crept carefully down the dim hall, entering the large and familiar throne room of Stormwind Keep, but now its towering walls seemed different—larger, more shadowed, and empty. From the distant stone ceiling, tarps hung like garish cobwebs, emblazoned with the golden face of a lion—the emblem denoting the pride and strength of the great nation of Stormwind.
Did I oversleep today’s ceremonies?
Again the strange dripping sound came, this time echoing off the icy floor, distinct and wet.