Bathroom Monologue: Yeah, I hate Warcraft cities

North of Angstopia and Mom'sbasementland, west of Pork Haven and the Mallow Marshes, just on the border of the great city-state of Thatsmellia, lies the home of magicians specializing in weather control: Brokenwind. Do not confuse the wizards of Brokenwind with Meteorologists; they neither summon meteors nor predict the weather. It's a bitter, stormy town, constantly a-brew with loud thunder. Its streets cannot be traveled, due to the constant gusts and gales that send every loose cloth a-flutter. The potent ingredients necessary for such dark wizardry have stained the buildings a permanent, decayed brown. You can always tell if you near this unhappy hole in civilization, because of the sulfuric smell.