[A new face looks down on the scroll, eyes screwed in a look of complete and utter disbelief at the situation he has found himself in. A dark-red unicorn, just... staring for a long moment before he scoffs and starts to speak with a flip of his blond, braided mane.]

...I'm sorry, I can't -- you actually expect me to believe --

[He gestures vaguely to himself with a hoof.]

That this is a thing that's happening right now? Haha. No thank you. If I knew that helping a Pandaren with his house chores would lead to... to... hallucinations or something... Am I in the Emerald Dream? Did I get hit with some magical incense or something? Because I would've liked some kind of warning if that was going to happen.

[Yeah, he's rambling now. But really, where else can a pony vent when he's just been thrown in a situation like this? After a long sigh, he shakes his head and turns back to the scroll.]

Okay. Sorry 'bout that. So just in case this isn't the product of me making one too many healing potions, the name's Artuan. Bracher. I... was a mage.

By the way... Anyone else from Azeroth sharin' this fever dream I'm having? If so... uh. Find me, I suppose. We can reminisce about the good ol' days when Deathwing was destroying Stormwind and everypony -- ["Everypony"? He pauses for a moment to consider the sudden and automatic change in lingo with a bewildered expression before continuing.] Was freezing up in Northrend. Or something.

...How do you end these th--

[And the message ends abruptly. Looks like he found out.]