It would, indeed, be catastrophic. Yet what can even be done? What good would a warning do? Wrathion tilts his head, as if half in acceptance.

"You are correct," he allows. "What do you imagine they would do with the information? A stranger comes to you, claims over half the city is plagued and has been for years due to a curse. Would you believe them? Believe some of your own people might be mannequins, animated in an imitation of life? Say you do believe them. This stranger says there is a chance they can help, but they cannot promise it will work. Convenient, no? That the person who discovers this, offers a cure? So, then: a quarter of your people, they say, are well. How would you respond? Do you wait for this mystery cure that may not come? Say your city, in this instance, is one fuelled by paranoia, that fears sickness -- where the slightest hint of illness has you avoided. How do you keep this sickness from spreading to that limited number who have yet to catch it?"

He slows to a stop again, glances sideways at Anduin.

"How has the threat of plague been responded to in Azeroth, in the past?"