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 more information.

“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 of Sanity.

Be at peace. Be welcome. Be sane.