What'd ye just say 'bout me, ye little runt? I'll have ye know I be a master warrior from the Ironforge Clans, an' I've led countless raids on goblin strongholds, an' over four dozen confirmed troll kills. I be trained in mountain warfare, an' I'm the top berserker in all the Dwarven Legions. Ye be naught but a pebble tae me, an' I'll crush ye like the worm ye be. I'll have ye know I can summon the fury of the stone an' metal, an' ye won't even see it comin', lad.

Think ye can get away with spoutin' off tae me in this tavern? Think again, whelp. As we speak, I be callin' my secret network of kin an' allies across the realm an' yer sorry hide be marked fer the next raid. Ye be better off seekin' refuge in the deepest, darkest cave, but even then ye'll not escape my wrath. I'll be there afore ye even think tae flee, an' I'll bring down the fury o' the mountain on yer head.

Not only be I a master o' the axe, but I be well-versed in the ancient runes, an' I'll lay a curse so terrible on ye that ye'll wish fer the sweet release of death. If only ye had known what dark retribution yer little "clever" comment was about tae bring down upon ye, ye might've held yer tongue, but ye didn't, an' now ye'll pay the price, ye foolish elfspawn.

I'll hunt ye down with a bloodlust the likes o' which has ne'er been seen afore in these lands. Mark my words, ye'll be dead afore the next moonrise. I be everywhere, an' I be relentless. Ye think ye can hide from me? Think again. I'll scour the mountains, the forests, an' the very depths of the underdark until I find ye, an' when I do, ye'll beg fer mercy, but none'll be given.

Ye be naught but a spineless whelp, an' I'll wipe ye from the face of this world with a fury that'd make even the dragons tremble. Ye'll rue the day ye crossed paths with a son of Ironforge, mark my words.