Oh thank everything ever he released her. Immediately upon being released, Fortyskey immediately relaxes, it's almost a visible change in attitude.

Still, she crosses her arms. "Depends on how long this fucking bullshit lasts. Anyway."

Firstly, she rattles off something Harrow will immediately recognize as the guttural dialect that's Orcish, then switches so something that sounds like a bastardized version of Common, but doesn't translate, and she finishes off with something in Demonic.

Then she switches back to Common, "Orcish, Forsaken, Demonic," she counts off on her fingers, "I can understand some of the fucking Blood Elf language, but not enough to converse, and I can recognize most of the other languages from our world, even if I don't know what the fuck they're saying."