By the end of this exchange, Isaera's warm and polite demeanor has faded away into more confusion and disappointment than anything.

"Uh. Thanks. Maybe.. friend.. talk.. you.." she says slowly.

Recognizing the more ogrish language and bits of history, she figures Mor'Lag would have better luck getting any answers - if this peon even saw anyone here at all. The tower was another mystery, but she wasn't sure who or what she'd find there, and she wasn't going to bother to ask.

Returning to the others, she asks what they found. "Blue scales? The naga?"