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.

Do not waste my time, mage.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Are you lost, dracthyr?

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

Welcome to Valdrakken, dracthyr!

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

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!

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.

I, Esa'ne, have done the impossible! I sailed the Strait of Hexx'alor and escaped Zul'jin's tyranny. The brute planned to have my tongue cut and my forehead branded. Damn him, damn the Horde that abandoned us, and damn those elves most of all. I'd rather die a free Amani than live chasing the wars of alien monsters.

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.

It is said the blessings of a phoenix long-forgotten seep through every swing of the hammer and bellow of flames at this forge. That is why any who are serious about their craft come from all over to forge their creations here at this spot. Perhaps though, all that power is just superstition. A way for the Sunstrider dynasty to give power to the powerless. Yet again, perhaps it is not. Give it a try, won't you?

These soldiers--dey are too young to remember the time before de loa gave us their help. So de loa can't come here. So? Let me tell a legend dat takes place before the loa helped our kind. Maybe you heard of it? Or maybe you want to see it for yourself...