Under the olive canopies of Terokkar, between the rolling emerald plains of Nagrand and the turgid turquoise swamps of Zangarmarsh and the darkened, bleeding and guttering Shadowmoon, lies a city of Light. Cradled within a natural basin, the low lying Shattrath hosts many different peoples from all around. Impoverished refugees and worn veterans and macabre creatures correlate hungrily under the Outland's many moons every weekday; the clergy of the Aldor would come out to do their charity rounds at seven o'clock. With a large ladel, a cup and a tanker full of turbid amber soup, the priests would feed the swarms of Lower City dwellers.