The ingredients I've got are... suspicious at best. Eh, with your help I'm sure it'll be at least edible.

To the south lays Gnarldor Isle, where some burly giants seem to have taken home. They're none too friendly and we give them a wide berth. To the west are the crypts and temples where the snakes emerged from. My crew is a superstitious sort and don't like messing with graves, so we thought to leave the quiet lands alone. We didn't expect venom to spew from the mountains and flying snakes with two heads! You'd best be getting on with your soldiers. I could use your help around here later, but for now it seems we have an outpost to fortify. You're a ray of hope, Nerfwins.

'Twas a cursed land, even before the snakes emerged. Many a crewmate found themselves attacked by the souls of the dead that wander here, and we've found a number of other Zandalari ships that met the fate of ours. To the north, we've made allies with a hermit by the name of Ofi, an Amani exile. She prefers to keep to herself, but is the only friendly face we've seen. To the east, the island turns to muck and mud, and a combination of murlocs and spirits make their home there. The murlocs have a crazed glint in their eyes... a curse that spread to some of my crewmates as well. As for the spirits, some of them seem friendly enough while others attack you on sight. We've generally found it best to avoid the dead.

We'd been sailing Torga's Beak, a gift given to us by the Zandalari, when out of nowhere a great white serpent broke our hull. My crew acted quickly, and took us to shore before we took on too much water. Would have been better to let the ship sink and swim back to Zul'Aman, but little did we know the trap we had put ourselves in. After establishing ourselves on the island, we built small dinghies to escape--only to find the fogs constantly turning us back to shore. We've spent the last few years making this place a home. We had begun to acclimate, until just a day ago when the foul serpents poured forth from the mountainside. My crew scattered across this cursed island. What cruel winds, for the fog to lift only now.

It be good to see some fresh faces around here. My crew and I have been stranded for over seven years, and we were beginning to believe we'd have to rebuild society from scratch!

What do you seek, priest?

All that's left here is me and de captain. De curse I cast keeps us from movin' on.

Train a dog, I said. How hard could it be, I said. I need to stop talking.

We are blessed to live in Harandar, and we treat that as a responsibility. The roots of World Trees wind through these lands, and we must tend to them to make sure that they continue to thrive. I am Cyenna, Charge Nurse of Nordrassil. It is a responsibility I take very seriously.

Greetings. Are you seeking instruction in alchemy?

Greetings. Are you seeking instruction in enchanting?

Which Midnight Specialization would you like to relearn?

The Catalyst can infuse great power into items, enhancing them and pushing their potential further than ever before!

A sight to behold, is it not? Since the time of Dath'Remar, the elves have used this great forge to craft armor of unparalleled might. It is said that the flames were first stoked by the soul of a phoenix who thought it a fitting nest, and that its power still weaves itself through every creation. We will permit you to share in its gifts.

What do you seek, priest?

How may I help you?

Silvermoon is grateful for your aid.