“Ah cannae believe Brann just left us in here, after them adventurers let him out of his vault.”

“Ah reckon he’s still mad.”

“Ah reckon so.”

“Can Ah ask ye somethin’?”

“Aye, got naught else ta do.”

“What in th’ blazes are ye feedin’ th’ bear? If he farts like that again, Ah’ll not be responsible fer me actions.”

“Reckon it were a scorpion. He’s been crunchin’ somethin’ every time Ah turned around since we’ve been in Uldum.”

“Makes sense.”

“Aye.”

“Ah donnae reckon th’ Tol’vir will know about how to turn Magni back from stone, ye know. They got turned thousands o’ years ago and ain’t inquisitive like th’ mechagnomes and Earthen were. They’re farmers.”

“Aye. No’ sure what else ta do, though.”

“Twilight’s Hammer might know. Good luck gettin’ them to talk.”

“Worth a try, though, if we e’er get out o’ here.”

“Ye can go, Ringo. Ah miss our wee one. Ah’ll head back ta Stormwind and th’ District. It’s nice now, what with the portals an’ auction house and the new inn and all.”

“Seems like everyone’s there nowadays.”

“Aye … oh, fer cryin’ out loud, how can he still be fartin’ after all this time without more scorpions?”