Sitting inside of Fordragon hold James looked out for the scouting party that had left almost nine hours ago. He frowned looking out into the blizzard, his monocular not helpful in the least in trying to find a half frozen scouting party in this soup. He looked at everyone inside sitting beside the warm fires drinking ale and carousing. They were all soft, the time for vigilance was now. He cared not for the Horde, the Scourge being a far greater threat, he thought the Alliance should at least be fighting alongside the Horde, at least until the Traitor Arthus was killed. He moved to the gate gathering around him some furs before wanting to travel outside.