After the ship docked, Zul'ra first had someone pay the berthing fee to the dockmaster, a green-skinned Goblin in a patched leather vest. Only then did he begin making arrangements, sending Broken-Tooth and several sharp-witted trolls into town to survey the situation and ask about goods and prices, while he himself stayed at the docks to speak with the dockmaster.
The dockmaster at Mudsprocket was called Dinge, and he was exceptionally talkative. Goblins were a mercantile race; without a silver tongue, how could they do business or haggle over prices? Still, these little fellows were all deeply calculating and exceedingly careful with their words.
"Are you a Zandalari Troll?" Dinge cautiously studied the remarkably upright blue-skinned troll before him, his gaze sweeping over the fangs at the corners of Zul'ra's mouth and the five fingers on his hands before he carefully asked.
"You know of Zandalar too? I'm not Zandalari. I'm from Zul'Aman!" Zul'ra smiled as he looked down at the little fellow, who only came up to his knees, showing a trace of surprise. The Zandalari Trolls had once enslaved Goblins on Kezan, so it was only natural for the two sides to know something of each other. Still, he had no intention of letting on that he had been to Zandalar.
"Heh, of course I know. It's an undeveloped land of opportunity. They say even the cities are decorated with gold. But unfortunately, those distant kin of yours aren't very reasonable. Many Goblins who went to the island were killed, though some escaped back. They all made fortunes. Have you ever been to Zandalar?"
Naturally, Zul'ra could not agree with Dinge's assumption about Zandalar. Smiling, he shook his head and stated that he was a Forest Troll, not a Zandalari Troll. Zandalar only accepted trolls with Zandalari blood,