“Anything yet, Professor? It feels like it’s been a month! Well, maybe,” Beli Flinthammer mused. “Time is weird here in the Shadowlands. Is it still the Year of the Phoenix?”

“We do not have time as you know it here in the Shadowlands, Butcher,” the Professor rumbled, precise, crisp enunciation coming from a massive body, stitched together from corpses and weapons from around Maldraxxus. “We measure time in ‘cycles,’ but it doesn’t move in the ways you are used to. Do you have something to draw with? When drawn, it looks like the word ‘Jeremy –‘”

“Not important!” Beli snapped. “Back to what we were doing. How about that book?”

The Professor took the tome in his massive hands, carefully turning the pages.

“This is the last one. It’s ‘On Bone and Stone,’ Butcher, a history book recently added to the library here in Butchers Block.”

“And does it have names of the dead?”

The Professor sighed.

“Yes, thousands of them, but nothing recent. These battles took place tens of thousands of cycles ago, long before Azeroth was born.”

Beli fumed.

“Are you telling me there’s no book in Maldraxxus that tells the fate of more recent souls?”

“This library is completely insufficient, as I have said many times,” the Professor said mournfully. “But there are libraries elsewhere, including towers once maintained by the House of Eyes to the north, where secrets known only to them are kept.”

“All right, then, let’s ride.”