The threats that lay siege to Eversong and Zul'Aman's borders are relentless, adventurer, but we are no strangers to dealing with these attacks. Be it forces of the Void, marauding ethereals, or the Twilight's Blade, we will be ready.

My guards, ha. They are more accurately your guards. It is nice though dat they think three of dem are enough to stop me if I did want to do harm. Mibaza could take them alone. <Mibaza lets out a low growl.>

<Lady Darkglen tilts her head as she looks you over.> Now, what can an important priest like yourself do for me?

<Lady Darkglen sighs.> Due to the current climate of Silvermoon, it was unwise to have my usual... entourage here in the city. While dear Blocciniux is away, I have an alternate. Do try to behave in front of him, hmm? He's quite dedicated to his job.

<Mayven closes her eyes as she slowly exhales before looking at you.> Yes, she is. If you're that curious about my familial relations, please feel free to ask her all about it. While you do that, I've got work that requires my attention. These dark particles aren't going to study themselves.

<Mayven narrows her eyes at you for a moment before she gestures to the void magic circling around her hand.> Since you're so curious... I'm studying the dark particles left behind by these new threats. Why you may ask? Most types of magic leave behind a faint residue that can be used to determine the type of magic or in some cases, the reagents and fuel source used to power the spell. In this case, we are trying to unravel these particles to learn more about these threats and maybe find a way to counter their next move.

A part of the Reliquary? Me? I'm afraid not. I've always found their work to be rather fascinating--I've even contributed to Tae'thelan's lavish fundraisers that finance his expeditions. But sadly, the High Examiner has never granted me membership. I must have offended him at some point. <Lady Darkglen offers a coy smirk.> And yet, when the need arose for someone with an intrigue for both dark magic and history alike, none were as suited to the task as I was. He couldn't deny my credentials, so in turn he sent Andoren here to lecture me on... well, I've stopped listening to his prattle if I'm being honest.

The forces of the Void and the Hal'hadar are relentless in their onslaught. We must remain vigilant and ready.

I hope you're not wasting my time, human.

As you can no doubt tell, I am somewhat preoccupied with my research. Unless your question pertains to my work, please direct all matters to my sister, Maren.

These machines are fantastic! How could they operate with no anomalies or chance of failure? Oh, excuse me. Did you need something?

How many times must I repeat myself... De factions attacking your perfect elf allies are also attacking us in Zul'Aman. A few of you have proven worthy fighters and honorable enough we hope to work together to combat de new threats. Does dat satisfy your inquiry?

Welcome to my Inn, weary traveler. What can I do for you?

It is a great honor to represent Harandar in this grand city.

Our banner should be outside by the natural beauty of the goddess, not locked within a hut.

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!

Get away from me, you abomination!

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.

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...

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

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

Do not waste my time, mage.

<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?

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

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

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!

I go where da food be.

Are you lost, dracthyr?

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 to Valdrakken, dracthyr!

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

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.

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

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, adventurer.

'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!

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.

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.