Once upon a time, there lived a wicked sorceress named Morgana, who lived in an eerie castle in a distant land. She was a tall, slender woman whose face was radiant and beautiful that it is said that no man could take his eyes off her. Her hair long and dark black like the night, and her eyes were cold as ice. She wore a long dress with a red belt. This was always her favorite dress, even on days when she would make the people of a little town run in terror. Morgan was always mean to the people. She would make them slaves and terrorize them. She would make them do her biddings.

Sarah peered down at the field, looking at the arriving helium tanks.  There were three tanks, each one of them bigger than the officials that were struggling to wheel them onto the track.  Sarah watched Sandy, still inflated, stride across the rubber track and help one of the officials heft one of the tank-laden hand trucks up past the concrete lip around the track.  The distended woman grunted slightly with the effort of bending at her massively inflated waistline.  

The girls had lead Sarah to a large gymnasium adjoining the locker room then. She realized now why the building had appeared so large from the outside... its interior contained a standard 400-meter track, layered with that sort of black rubber that she'd heard was made of recycled tires. A tier of mostly empty black bleachers ran parallel to the track on each of its long sides. They took Sarah to the front row in a roped-off section marked "VIP."

"Will you be okay here, Sarah?" Laurie asked. "The only people allowed on the field are contestants and officials.

Calisea has had a rather pleasant time in Stormwind, having been within the human city's walls for a little under a week now. She didn't get many stares, and was seldom questioned. The first order of business she was given on her mission document was to investigate the engineering segment of the great city, and find out if there were any new weapons being designed, and if these weapons were planned for on-Horde use.