I'm pleased to see that you're up and walking around, adventurer. You've held up nicely, especially after being dead for so long! Others weren't as lucky. If you wouldn't mind, I need you to fetch my embalming fluid and some twine to stitch up these bodies. You'll find both in the Shadow Grave, the building just behind me. Here, Darnell will join you. He knows the way.

Do not waste my time, mage.

How is a locksmith supposed to make a living in a world with no locked doors?

By order of his royal highness, King Anduin Wrynn, all able-bodied citizens of the Alliance are to report to Pilot Hammerfoot at South Gate Outpost. The destruction of the Stonewrought Dam and the resurgence of the kobolds and troggs has the mountaineers stretched thin. Reinforcements are desperately needed! Travel east through South Gate Pass from eastern Dun Morogh to reach South Gate Outpost. For the glory and honor of the Alliance!

The Stormwind Army has placed a bounty on murloc lurkers and foragers in Elwynn. Slaughter them and bring Guard Thomas their torn murloc fins, and the Stormwind Army will reward you well. The murlocs have built a village at Stone Cairn Lake north of here, and another to the south where the stream forks.

Those val'kyr have been really busy resurrecting you newbies lately. I've already seen a couple dozen new bodies run down that hill since this morning. You, however, are the most promising mage I've seen today.

Darnell tells me that the two of you have already met. That's good, because I'm sending you both into Deathknell. Your work is done here. Speak with Deathguard Saltain in Deathknell, to the north. He will tell you more of what you must know.

Have you heard of Captain Grayson? Some say that he's the figment of a drunken sailor's imagination, but anyone in Westfall will tell you that Grayson is real! He's a ghost that haunts the Westfall Lighthouse far to the west, off the coast of the Longshore. Do you dare investigate?

Don't let the humans in the Bazaar fool ye lass, with the subway those gnomes built it's easier than ye might think to transport goods from Ironforge. If they try to tack on import fees just tell them yer gonna buy yer gear from me.

By decree of the Stormwind Army, a bounty has been placed on the head of James Clark. Clark is wanted for robbery, burglary, arson, and murder. He is also a suspect in the kidnapping and disappearance of the Brackwell's prized pig, Princess. James Clark was last seen heading towards Eastvale Logging Camp. Bring James Clark to justice and report to Marshal Patterson at Eastvale Logging Camp.

All this legwork will be for nothing if we can't show Katherine hard proof linking the Ashvane Company to the freebooters here in Freehold. Ashvane might have been careful to encrypt their books, but I doubt the dockmaster here has any reason to be so secretive. Check his office and find us something--anything--that connects him to Ashvane.

Get away from me, you monster! Don't look at me! I'm hideous!

Have you felt the tremors, druid? Something has cleaved this land in two. But we druids can sense other tremors, as well. Life is stirring in lands once dry and lifeless. The oases around the Crossroads are suddenly blooming. I can sense a power leaking its way to the surface, but from where? Is it related to the disaster that shattered the Barrens? We must find the source. Travel to the Forgotten Pools, northwest of the Crossroads. Search its waters for a source of power, then return here.

Get away from me, you abomination!

Ready to head face-first into a den of snakes?

What... what's going on? Who are you? What happened to me?

Greetings, warlock. I have been asked to assemble a team for a high priority mission. Please come to Stormwind Keep immediately for a briefing with King Varian Wrynn. I will be waiting in the King's war room.

You will find the items within the Shadow Grave. I believe I left them on my work table.

The undead are a taint upon Azeroth! Every one of you creatures deserves to be destroyed!

Ach, it's hard enough keeping order around here without all these new troubles popping up! I hope you have good news, adventurer...

adventurer! Rise, adventurer! Welcome back to the realm of the living. With the blessing and power of the Dark Lady, I have freed you from death's grip. You are no slave, adventurer. You are free to follow whatever path you choose from here. If you choose to serve the Dark Lady Sylvanas, I recommend you speak with Undertaker Mordo. You will find him behind me, in the graveyard.

<Valdred looks back down at his hands.> I suppose this is my fate then. Hah! Part of an undead army. Somehow I never considered that I might end up fighting for the Forsaken. <He looks back up at you.> What do I do now?

King, peasant, or mage... I don't care WHAT you were before. I just need somebody with a working tongue. Being raised from the dead is strenuous. Not everyone copes with it as well as you did. In particular, there are three newly-raised undead who are having trouble coping right now. I want you to find them and talk to them. It might be that they just need someone that they can relate with. You'll find them here in the graveyard.

Stand back, monster. You want to fight? Because I'll fight you. I'll fight any one of you creatures! Do you hear me?

Oh really? Fine. I don't want to join you and your Forsaken. Maybe I'll start my own Forsaken! Maybe I'll invent Forsaken with elbows!

Hello there. You must be... adventurer?

Yes, murlocs have settled in and around the streams of eastern Elwynn. We don't know why they are here, but they are aggressive and at least semi-intelligent.

Exactly what I needed. You'll be an asset to the Forsaken, adventurer. You know, word has it that you were quite the mage in your previous life. Perhaps I should assign you to a more exciting task.

The val'kyr raise hundreds of corpses every day. Agatha raised you just a few moments ago. Not all are as lucky as you, however. Some maintain their free will, but live in constant fear and confusion. They usually run off into the woods, cowering at their own reflections. Others lose their minds completely, shambling about aimlessly. They often turn to violence, and must be destroyed. This is your task, adventurer. Destroy them, our former brothers and sisters though they might be.

I... died? Yes, you're right. I died. It was an orc... he cut off my hands, and left me to die. <Valdred looks down at his hands.> These aren't my hands! THESE AREN'T MY HANDS!

You've done well, mage. As you can see, not all of us have resigned to our fates. I'm glad to see that you're at least willing to work. Valdred will be a valuable asset to the Forsaken. As for the other two... there is not much we can do. We cannot force them to join us.

No dilly-dallying now. You're among the Forsaken now, and we hold ours to a higher standard.

We've been shipping in dead bodies from Silverpine, Hillsbrad... hell, anywhere we can get them from. We can't, however, afford to ignore the bodies which are sitting right on our front doorstep. The last vestiges of the Scarlet Crusade roam here in Tirisfal Glades. While we've managed to push them from Deathknell, several of their bodies litter the buildings to the north and the east. Go find them... and bring that Darnell fellow with you. He looks strong enough to carry a few corpses.

I can not train you. You need to talk to your class trainer.

Hello, friend. Did you also get turned out of your home by the return of the "masters"?

Are you lost, dracthyr?

Welcome to Valdrakken, dracthyr!

Who maintained these isles over the eons? We did! And what do we get for it? Nothing!

Welcome to The Ruby Feast! Chef Morsel and I, the most stunning culinary duo in all the Isles, have prepared and laid out a most various array of flavorful delights! Dig in, dance, and enjoy the festivities!

Welcome, fellow traveler. I am Chef Sungshin Ironpaw, Guide to the Ways and administrant to the Halfhill Market. A curious letter made it's way to me in the Valley of the Four Winds, written by Chef Morsel. He informed me that these Isles had opened and that he and his partner would be hosting a garden party of sorts. They would use it as an opportunity to showcase the rare ingredients of the Dragon Isles, as well as the wide variety of cuisines Azeroth has to offer. I simply couldn't refuse a request to exhibit the wonders of our great Pandaria! Please feel free to try my own offerings. We Pandaren are always on the move, so we've found food that travels with you is always the most satisfying.

I go where da food be.

Your understanding of curios has deepened.

We are seeing a Void Assault in Eversong. We need you to head out immediately to counter these threats. I will mark the strikes on your map as our scouts identify them and direct your efforts from here.

LET MY SPIRIT GUARD THESE HALLS LET MY SHADE BAR THE WAY LET NO AMANI OR TRESSPASSING THIEF CROSS THE THRESHOLD - ZAZ'KE THE GUARDIAN

<The final scrap was written on a sun-bleached hat.> Captain Lenta was bitten by a snake. Don't come here. This island is a cage. - Swabby Wuck

<This scrap seems to be leather from a backpack.> This bottle won't stop returning. This island is haunted and infested with snakes. We would still like to be rescued, but I understand if you stay far away from here. All we have found are wrecks of Zandalari ships. I should never have purchased a Zandalari ship. Whatever has cursed this island does not like the Zandalari. Can't it see I'm a tortollan? I hope this bottle floats away this time. - Captain Lenta

<The next scrap of cloth is from a fine jacket.> The bottle came back. Again. I've thrown it out to see on the tide. This makes no sense. If you find this, tell a tortollan sailor. They will know who I am. We still have plenty of cargo to reward you if you come and rescue us. - Captain Lenta

<There are multiple swaths of fabric that look like torn pieces of clothing, written with charcoal, sealed in the bottle with a cork stopper.> Help! Our ship, Sethralis's Scale, has run aground. We are on an island east of Zul'Aman. Send help and you can have the cargo we saved. - Captain Lenta

In my heart, revenge burns. My boat was shattered on the rocks. But someday, I will return to Zul'Aman. If I fail, let those who find my bones know Zul'jin is the bastard son of a harpy and no true Amani.

I have survived one summer so far. Atal'Utek is as they said. Shrouded in mists almost always. I have learned to hone my other senses. I hear voices in the night, and I see shapes moving in the dark. I avoid the ruins where their green lights flicker. But the land here is fertile and the beasts fat. My spear finds their bellies easily, and I eat well.