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I sent my apprentice out into the marshes to skin some of our famous giant Wetlands crocolisks. When he didn't return, I went out to look for him... Let's just say it wasn't a pretty sight.
Midwife says he might pull through, but in the meantime I still need my skins!
...If you'd like to kill a few more of the brutes, I wouldn't be opposed, after what they did. You'll find the crocs north up the coast, beyond the murloc hovels.
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My apprentice is like a son to me. It's going to be hard for him to live his life with only one leg.
Ah, ‹namn›, how goes it? Do you have my skins?
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Hmm... Don't suppose you'd be interested in becoming my apprentice, would you?
Hah! No, I'm just kidding. You're much too old, for one thing. Besides - from the looks of you, it would seem that you have other ambitions in life. Nonetheless, these are some fine skins you've procured, and I'll be able to put them to good use.