It’s WoW Related.

At the end of Festival Lane was one of Stratholme’s homiest of pubs. The food was typically sub-par and the privvy was always in shambles, but the drinks were never watered down and the regulars were warmer than Northron folk tended to be.

Bricu’s men were welcome there. Since courting their daughter, the proprietors of Stackpole’s Public House treated Bricu’s brigade as family. It quickly became the place for other off-duty soldiers.

Bricu and his remaining squad stood outside the door to the pub. It has been fortified with wood, iron and holy symbols to ward of the plague and the plague ridden. Inside its walls were Bricu’s family. A beautiful girl who loved him, a young man that looked up to him and surrogate parents who treated him with all the kindness in the world.

Bricu has his men fall into over watch in the front of the building. He ordered the burliest soldiers hack the door down then stand watch outside.

“Eammon? Markita?” he said as he walked into the pub. There was no answer other than the groans and sobs of the plagued. This did not make his task easier. Bricu carried out his orders, one at a time.