You’re drinking an ale, when all of a sudden an Ironforge Mountaineer pops out of your mug and gives you this spiel:
"HELP NEEDED! We need a convoy to help us deliver a [Package of Sweetrolls] to the mountains above Ironforge – Ironforge Airport! We will meet in Ironforge, fly to Thelsamar, and then take a dangerous and hidden path up to the airport. Life insurance not included. Death is likely, but the views are… they’re really nice.
We are meeting at 7:00pm in the Explorer’s Hall this Friday, the 26th. Contact Gibran if you have any questions or concerns."
The dwarf then disappears back into the froth of your cup.