Don entered The Golden Keg in a relaxed fashion, completely ignoring the overpowering smell of alcohol and smoke. The tavern before him was dimly lit to match the evening sky outside; every other candle was lit up. As usual, there would be a large table set where adventurers could congregate; conversations were generally shared within their own groups, but if a particularly interesting story or event would come up, anyone was welcome to join in. Men and women alike were at the table, but there were easily more males to be found. Not every person in the table drank, they simply enjoyed the company and the proprietor knew most of their profits were gained during get-togethers like these. Bartenders and barmaids of varying Alliance races enjoyed working during this shift as they were never bored and could enjoy a good laugh as they served. Jammie, a gnomish friend of Don's, waved for his attention and began pointing at a seat across from him. Compared to Jammie, Don was much taller, being a human, and better built. His hair was light brown and cut short while the gnome preferred his dark-brown, nearly black hair buzzed with a horseshoe moustache. Based on normal standards per race, the two could be considered above average.

"What took ya, D?" Jammie asked in a fairly deep voice for a gnome; it sounded similar to that of a human in his late teens.

"The usual," replied Don with a grin across his face, "gettin' the mail, breaking up with a girlfriend, collecting my pay for a j-"

"Another one?"

The human gave a solemn nod.

"She was uh… more into elves, then?"

Another nod.

Jammie quickly turned to one of the barmaids to order a cup of coffee, "Have you ever considered goin' fishing?"

Don's forehead began to crease at that, "Whaddaya think I've been doin'? Every 'fish' I catch is a complete bust."

"No, you boob. I mean hike up Elwynn's mountains and… well… fish," the gnome took a long sip from his drink only to gag as he realized that his coffee was black, "Erm… relax a little; go catch a catfish."

As Jammie and Don's conversation came to an end, the sound of howling began to resonate through the building. Any talking and laughing that had been going on before the howl died down and all eyes fell onto the entrance of the tavern. While there was no real culprit that appeared, the adventurers could easily assume what was responsible for the disturbance: worgen.

"Alright. Who thought it was a bright idea to bring those beasts into our city?" slurred out a drunken, still-armored human swordsman. Despite his current state, many others thought his anger was justified.

Across from the swordsman and two seats away, a dwarf found a scapegoat: "It's those damn elves again! First it was the draenei, but they turned out to be trustworthy at least."

"I hear the ones from Gilneas can actually speak in Common," one man said.

A woman replied to him saying, "Just imagine getting one upset. They'll bite you and you'll end up one of 'em. Light save us."

"Some Gilneans remained human, too, though. I saw some gettin' off a ship with the worgen but they seemed uncomfortable around 'em, too."

"Did the elves forget that we had to deal with 'em back in Northrend?" Don said with bravado, "And what about Duskwood? Those bastards're everywhere, terrorizing Darkshire!"

Jammie glared Don down, trying to get him to realize the hysteria that he helped create. Some voices in the crowd had shown intrigue for the new members, but the majority easily drowned those opinions out with their personal recollections of encounters with worgen. The adventurers didn't make any plans to start a riot, but the atmosphere of the tavern was becoming more and more hostile as their rage continued to boil. Many of these new stories that flew around were on their near-death encounters with a pack of worgen; how they were nearly mangled- claws that permanently scarred a variety of parts on their bodies- how they barely avoided becoming infected- among others. By the time the get-together was wrapping up, nearly everyone saw the worgen as a threat.

"Hey, uh, Jammie?" Don called out before his friend could reach the exit, "I wanna introduce you to Jill."

"D, it's been a long night. Can I see your new girlfriend tomorrow?"

The human sneered in disgust, "Jill? That's gross; she's my stepmother."

The gnome shrugged off his friend's words only to perform a double-take shortly thereafter, "Why haven't I heard of her before?"

"I thought you wouldn't care," Don said while motioning his friend to follow him.

The walk to Stormwind's Harbor was filled with the story of Don's youth and of how Jill came to be Don's stepmother. He was born in the small town of Southshore and left for Stormwind in his late teens. According to the man, his mother- his real mother- left for Pyrewood Village to relax at his grandmother's house after an intense argument with his father. She returned to Southshore having been infected by the worgen and that he was that one that had to put her down. The brawler's now-deceased father was remarried to Jill without much regret for doing so. Don's gnomish friend began to understand why the human acted the way that he did at the tavern but still disliked how he expressed that frustration. Nevertheless, Jammie knew all too well who his friend's father was; he had attended the funeral.

The two adventurers looked down at the docks before them. Workers below continued to work day and night- a reminder of how lucky the human and gnome duo truly were to live their life without being told what to do. Wood and stone still smelled of fresh lumber despite the years that had gone by since the landing point was first built. The smell of the briny sea-air wafted through this district and- in its own way- made anyone entering and exiting feel invigorated. Don and Jammie watched as one trade ship's sailors unloaded and received their pay; loyal, married individuals rushed excitedly to the Pig n' Whistle tavern or their homes while others headed onto Goldshire's Lion's Pride Inn, a place that has recently been reduced to a common brothel. One careless sailor had nearly pushed Jammie off a ledge, resulting in mixed feelings of weakness and frustration that he forced down.

The sound of bells marked another ship's arrival and from afar, either adventurer could see white sails partly-blocking a gibbous moon. Don's stepmother had arrived.