Somehow, the swirling. pulsing and restless sky of Icecrown paled when the crowds in the stands let rip their cheers. The stamping of hundreds of pairs of feet on wooden stands and the ceaseless waving of the different cities' banners were so similar to sights seen in Orgrimmar's Ring of Valour that it seemed irrelevant that all of this was happening in the Lich King's cradle. The spirit of competitiveness that the Tournament brought on would, in these moments, momentarily cast aside the horrors of Icecrown, and the merciless sting of loss. However loaded with racial hatred and political tension the games were, they were still a respite from cruel and tragic death.