Is that - holy healing of some kind? Where is he? Wait, demons? That sounds right, maybe, but-

He reaches out to the elements, to ask for healing-

The elements are currently busy screaming in horrifying agony, and won’t be answering prayers today. They’d be very sorry, except they’re too busy being in agonizing pain.

That is deeply concerning. He can’t do much, though - did they say something about a healer-

An old man leans over into his field of view and barks out, "Now, who are you? I don't remember seeing you before, and I have an excellent memory for faces."

A human- no, that makes sense, they’re speaking Common. Would it be safer to identify himself? They’re not killing him, which is promising, but he doesn’t want to try that too much.

No, demons being bad is one of the few things that humans and orcs agree on. Probably this is a forward camp of some kind, and identifying himself means that he’ll be able to get back more quickly.

Get back to where not important, demons causing memory issues is maybe a thing?

”I’m Thrall,” he manages. He leaves off his titles; if they can’t figure out who he is then they’re far enough away they don’t matter. “A shaman.”

Shamans aren't officially banned in Kenabres but if he had his way they would be.

"And how am I to know you're not a demon spy, or worse?"

Fortunately, she gets there before Hulrun can cause too much trouble. 

"My dear Prelate, please - for the sake of the festivities, stop interrogating this poor man. He has been through enough already. Go on, I'll take care of him."

An immaculate human woman with silver hair and armor takes Hulrun's place leaning over Thrall. Her face is unlined and youthful, but her eyes gleam with the weight of years. She chants and a quicksilver flash of cold flows through Thrall, stitching together his chest and dampening his pains.

She takes a deep breath as the magic does its work. "I am not sure what the demons did to you. That wound was no ordinary injury. I have rid you of your pain and restored your strength, but only time will allow you to heal fully."

Sometimes the elements notice, Jaina said some people can naturally sense Fel and Arcane, but nothing easily scalable - he’s not thinking quickly enough to say any of this before Terendelev shows up.

“Then you have my thanks, Lady-“ He pauses, carefully rising to his feet.. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

"My name is Terendelev. I am the protector of this city." Her voice is strong and melodious.

"What is your name? What brings you to Kenabres?"

“My name is Thrall, Lady Terendelev. I do not know why I am here. My best guess is some sort of kidnapping attempt gone wrong. Where is Kenabres located?” 

"Kenabres is a city in the country of Mendev. We are on the western border of Mendev, on the edge of the Worldwound. On the north side of the continent of Avistan," she says, looking for any signs of recognition as she goes.

She's near sure he's not lying - it'd take a lilitu to do that well, and she just examined him for magical effects. It's still always possible with demons. Her instincts, though, tell her he is a victim of whatever this is, not a cause.

No reaction, except a moment of realization at the word ‘Worldwound.’ Not recognition, though.

(He isn’t under any magical effects, although his weapon is enchanted, along with a smaller item in his bag.)

"Whoever did this, they will hesitate to harry you further here. This festival and city are under my protection."

She reaches out with a surprisingly strong arm to lift Thrall back to his feet.

"I must return to my duties - Seelah here can answer your questions and I will return to check on your wound when I have time."

Seelah is there quickly, a dark-skinned and armored woman ready to support him if it looks like he will fall.

He looks around, and determines that this is definitely a human city. No doubt of that. A few gnomes and dwarves here and there - probably Alliance affiliated, then. This doesn’t quite add up, but something is obviously wrong with his memories, so that doesn’t mean too much. 

The landscape isn’t visibly fel-tainted here, but that doesn’t necessarily indicate it’s not. The state of the elements indicates it is. 

He’s physically restored, now, and stands up fine on his own, although it’s a bit tricky in plate armor. “Thank you, Seelah,” he says politely. “Do you know what continent,” a moment’s pause, “Avistan is closest to?”

"Um. Garund I think? That's just across the Narrow Sea. Where are you from?"

“Kalimdor, on Azeroth. Considering I haven’t heard of either of these continents, I suspect that I am from a different planet.”

He could double check with a map, but he’s not particularly hopeful. Probably that means there’s another demonic portal connected to Azeroth somewhere. Great. 

"I haven't heard of yours either. Another planet! I want to hear that story if you're up for it."

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a story about that - my best guess is that demons dragged me through a portal, but even if I am right, that only raises more questions. I’m missing any memories leading to this situation, too, which worries me. And -“

He pauses, reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a cracked stone with a flickering blue spiral upon it. He looks at it for a long moment, before slowly placing it back into his pocket.

“Broken, then.” He looks pensive, then worried, and reaches for a smaller stone, carved in the shape of a rune, which glows as soon as he touches it. He triggers the effect three times, before watching it intently. A moment passes, and it glows twice. He looks incredibly relieved.