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Arty: Come on, Naroy! One last drink before I take my mektoubs to the stable.
Naroy: No, Arty! You've been saying the same thing all morning, without ever leaving my bar. It's high time you left for Zora. Think of your customers!
Arty: How cruel of you, Naroy, forcing me to go on a difficult journey when I can't even stand straight.
Naroy: And whose fault is that? If you didn't like my beer so much you'd already be in Zora!
- Swearing, grumbling and cursing, Arty Mac Keaggan leaves the bar and with a hesitant and unstable walk heads for the cattle shed. Naroy Ba'Dardan keeps an eye on him for a moment and then turns his attention back to his customers.
- Night falls slowly over Avendale. A stampede on the pontoon grabs the attention of the barman. Breathless, scratched and ragged, Arty Mac Keaggan bursts into the bar.
Naroy: Arty Mac Keaggan! If you purposely went and threw yourself in a wigweed to look like that so that you could come and ask for a beer to perk you up, you wasted your time!
Arty: You're no way near it, Naroy! I fell into an ambush!
Naroy: What? Whereabouts? The surrounding area is safe.
Arty: At the Whirling Stronghold!
Naroy: You really take me for one of your stupid animals, don't you? That outpost has been in ruins for ages.
Arty: Listen Naroy. I left a little drunk, I agree, but I still managed to get to the vortex for the Lagoons of Loria. When I got there, I was surprised to find it was nighttime. As I didn't want to travel at night in an area infested with Kipuckas, I went in the direction of the Whirling Stronghold. I thought I'd find the usual ruins but, to my surprise, I collided into a barrier and fell over backwards with a crash. Then I was immediately surrounded by Matis speaking homin with a strong accent. Straight away I thought it was the Marauders everyone has been talking about so much lately. They came upon me and assaulted me and I barely managed to make a desperate escape on the rump of one of my mektoubs.
Naroy: Mauraders have taken the Whirling Stronghold? What a worry! Quickly, Arty, lets warn the Chief of the Guards!
— conversation with Arty Mac Keaggan. Unknown Source.