“His Majesty, King Varian Wrynn, and Lady Jaina Proudmoore have touched down upon the tournament grounds!” roared a herald. “Make way!”
“Ooh!” Widge Gearloose squealed and darted out of the Silver Covenant Pavilion. Ringo and Beli Flinthammer ambled after him, snacking on leftovers.
Standing on the front steps of the pavilion, Ringo scratched the ears of the family’s rams, Sam and Beer Run.
“Hail, Thane,” a black-bearded dwarf said, snapping to attention and saluting, hit boots kicking up a spray of slush as his boot heels snapped together. “Missus Thane.”
Widge squeaked in outrage and came bounding past on four outraged hooves.
“Er, hail,” Beli said, shooting a husband a “who in the Hellfire Peninsula is this guy” look.