all of sane mind and worthy soul find refuge.
The wanderer pressed his way through jostling, dancing crowds of
grinning madmen. They screamed and leapt before him, gibbering words
of technology that had no place in Azeroth. Mad jargon and shouted
obscenities rang in his ears. Guild charters appeared under his
nose and were as quickly pulled away, with no explanation nor spoken
greetings. A wild-eyed Gnome licked him, spit on him, then flung
down a challenge at his feet. Turning his eyes from a nude Elf dancing
atop a mailbox, he groaned aloud, By all the gods, is there
no calm in this place?
A passing stranger clad in a royal blue tabard bearing the sign
of a golden keep stopped, and turned to him with a welcoming smile.
Be at peace, friend, the stranger replied, There
is a place of sanctuary from the madness. Let me tell you of the
Bastion of Sanity.
Together they stepped away from the crowds, to a peaceful spot
beside a lake. The wanderer listened as the stranger spoke of a
small but strong community dedicated to immersion in the history
and cultures of Azeroth. Of a group of like-minded souls who refrain
at all times from the madness he had witnessed in his journeys.
Rejoicing that such a community existed, the wanderer asked for
Here, friend, the stranger replied, Seek our
Vision of reality, and learn more. Information is provided there
to any who seek sanity. So saying, the stranger handed the
wanderer a small piece of parchment with an arcane incantation inscribed.
The wanderer chanted aloud the incantation he was thus provided,
and like you, found himself here, regarding the Vision of the Bastion
Be at peace. Be welcome. Be sane.