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Shallow Grave - The corpse and the rabbit-

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(( G'day, it has been some time since I have written anything in this story. I'm back at it. You will notice that this thread has been edited. I have finally archived my posts, and will be posting the full story here, as well as on the Ravenholdt RP Sanctum, so no more need to click on links to view. Enjoy! ....well I guess one link to the Ravenholdt RP Sanctum

the activity level appears to be almost non-existent there now. there are some great threads there though))

Edited by mockrabbit
Posting full story on thread now, no more links

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The Finger of Light


His blades raised above his head fend off a crushing blow from the heavy mace. Even though he is slower than the Human we caught him off guard in that moment.

A kick from this unbalanced corpse sent the warrior of light reeling backwards through the snow, stumbling over the body of one the Orcs at the camp that had fallen to the mace earlier.


He circled around behind the Paladin who was rising back up from the knee he stumbled down upon. Mock leaped at him, his massive blades narrowly missing the meat bag.

The mace met Mock's left arm. Mock dropped that blade and spun his other sword around him with the might of an abomination, trying to relieve the Paladin's torso of his legs with this wild strike.

A miss. The human swings his mace again striking the undead in the side with a glancing blow.

"Stay still so I can kill ya!"

The human grins. He says something to Mock, I can't quite make it out. He starts to chant something ....his hand is glowing.

"Not ta'day Mr. Sparkles!"

I start to move towards the south side of the peak and the human. I can hear one of the Orc guards in the shelter coming too as I dart out.

The Paladin points at Mockrabbit with a grin on his face. It was quickly replaced with panic as a giant sword flew towards his face.

The fool missed again!...only nearly though. The sword sailed over the edge of the cliff and the paladin now sports a long gash across his cheek.

"T'ere goes t'a oth'r one...."


Mock is turning his head side to side now. "I think his other sword is buried in the snow ... no wait, there it is, by that dead Orc!"

Mock turns his back to the human and scrabbles for his other sword laying in the snow. The injured Orc warrior that fell back to the shelter is back up and charging towards the human

"LOK'TAR OGAR!" she bellows as she lunges. A slight limb noticeable on her left leg. A battle axe clutched in her hands.

The paladin is laughing, his chanting stopped. He prepares to release his punishment.

Mock grabs his sword and turns towards the human. He raises the blade in an attempt to shield him from the coming light.

The Orc is only a few of yards away.

The paladin sees victory.

We feel fear.

I taste flesh. And blood. And the human's other cheek.

He attempts to tear me off his face, grasping at my fur with his hand.

I take the meat bag's finger for his effort.

He spins in a circle quickly, grabbing me this time, and throws me to the ground.

It's too late.

A axe cleaves the abdomen of the Human.

The Orc whispers "Gol'Kosh."

He try's to grab the Orc's throat only to find, in that instant, it is no longer attached to him.

Mocks bloodied blade crashes into the ground, promptly followed by the severed limb.

The Orc removes her blade from the gut of the trouble maker.

He falls to his knees and looks up at his executioners.

"Not ta'day".

The Orc grins. Her and Mock each place a hand on the the human's shoulders and raise him up.

Then they throw him down.

A few dull thuds can be heard as the meat bag makes it's way down the mountain.

Ottis moves by Mock's side, finger in mouth

Mockrabbit scoops Ottis up and rubs the top of his head

Edited by mockrabbit

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Loony Toons

(( The following comes from the thread involving players from the Ravenholdt community.  Hardkandy started this thread and this was the first official meeting between Hardkandy, Mockrabbit and Ottis. Her writing will be highlighted in red. Abyzz added to the post by introducing Jaiden Maar and Darethy Voidblade, his text will be in purple))

It had taken Mockrabbit and Ottis almost three weeks to make their way back from Northrend to Brill. They had stopped to have Mock's rotten stead checked as he believed new shoes were needed. Ottis only cared about finding something to eat that wasn't scraps of stale bread or vermin that he had to make due with on the airship. 

“Oh, what a cute little bunny!”

Ottis had been called many things, but “cute” and “bunny” weren’t among them. Mockrabbit turned his attention from the stable master he was trying to convince of his mount’s need for new tack to the source of the verbal dichotomy.

A blood elf woman knelt next to him, dressed in worn traveling leathers. She held out an apple slice to Ottis in one hand, the remains of a sandwich (lamb, newly stolen from Elwynn Forest) in the other. Lunging forward, Ottis ignored the apple and ripped free a chunk of the sandwich. The blood elf laughed, not seeming to notice his unrabbit-like choice.

Still warm! With mustard and seasonings.

“He’s adorable! What’s his name?”

“Ottis,” Mockrabbit said.

She smiled at him and nodded, finishing the apple slice herself. “It suits him,” she said, between bites, tucking a lock of butter-blond hair behind her ear. “Where did you get him?”

“Eh… ‘ereabouts.” It was close enough to the truth to be true.

“Brill?” She rose, looking around as if expecting a relative of Ottis’ to appear out of the shadows. “Ooh. I might look around while I wait. I…I had a pet…but I lost her in Northrend.”

“Ah. You goin’ back?” Mockrabbit jerked a thumb at the zeppelin to Vengeance Landing.

“No, no.” She pointed at the other zeppelin tower. “Grom’gol.”

Something sprang from the shadows of Brill’s barn. Growling, it pounced on Ottis, flattening him under its front paws. Ottis squeaked. Mockrabbit yanked his sword from his back. The blood elf wailed and struck out with her fist.

“Bad kitty!” The large, lion-like, horned cat yelped as her fist struck home on his nose. She leaped behind him. “Bad, bad! Shoo!” Blows punctuated each word. “Get!”

Yowling, the large cat ran for Brill’s main gate. Mockrabbit gave chase, but the Light-damned druid was faster than him. On foot, at least. He stomped back.

To find the blood elf snuggling Ottis, who was devouring the last of her sandwich with studied daintiness and a minimum of bloody nibbles.

Which she didn’t seem to notice either.

“Ottis, what do you t’ink you’re doing?!”

“He was so scared,” the blood elf said. “He jumped right into my hands!”

Recruiting. She’s softer than you. In more ways than one.

“Ah.” Mockrabbit tilted his head. “Well… t’anks.. um…”

The blood elf smiled. “Hardkandy.”

“Mockrabbit. Pleased t’ meet ya.”

Edited by mockrabbit

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Jaiden Maar stood in the middle of Brill on a long, cold day. Waiting for his newest employer to show his slow !@# up to give him his latest set of orders, Jaiden spotted something rather small darting along his feet. He looked down to see a little rabbit hopping along almost passing his feet. The rabbit, seeming to notice his newest observer, stopped in his tracks and turned to look up at the warlock.

After a moment of eye contact, Jaiden reached into his one of his packs and retrieved a piece of pork and reached down as if to offer it to the rabbit. When the rabbit reached up to grab the sample Jaiden jerked it away and quickly wolfed the pork down. "Not for you fuzz ball!" Jaiden laughed.

A moment later the rabbit had it's leg hoisted up and began urinating on Jaidens boot. "Hey, HEY!" Jaiden screamed as his quickly backed away. Anger riling up in the warlock, Jaiden stomped at the rabbit in a attempt to kill it but the rabbit was too quick. It soon bolted away from Jaidens stomping boots but not yet out of sight. The warlock formed a ball of demonic flame and when he was to release it, he was interrupted.

"Ahem" a raspy voice sounded from behind him. Darethy Voidblade appeared behind Jaiden, arms crossed and red eyes narrowed underneath his red hood."Can we keep from setting the town on fire?" He inquired. Jaiden turned towards Darethy shaking the unwelcomed fluid from his boot "That little prick is lucky I'm allergic to rabbit stew."After his meeting with Darethy, Jaiden had looked back around Brill specifically at where he last saw that rabbit. "I hope that little $%^- gets turned into bat crap."

Edited by mockrabbit

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Walking past the square, and statue of 'The Dark Lady', the Death Knight turned her head, searching. Looking towards the Inn she spots Darethy lecturing one of his underlings. Towards the stables she spots her 'charge', conversing with a Blood Elf. 
Ottis is seen darting between the two of them. Ottis stops when he notices Luebella, and stares at her. Mock turns his head in her direction at almost the same time. Mock gives Ottis a slight nod, turns to Hardkandy and gestures for her to 'wait'. He mutters "..bus'ness.." as he and Ottis walk towards Luebella.

Mockrabbit salutes Luebella as Ottis sits on the ground next to him.

"You were to report to me in the Military wing as soon as you arrived."

"T'a stead need'd some 'repairs', t'ought ta get t'at arrang'd first."

"The 'pile of bones' can wait. You have your orders, you are expected to follow them. No exceptions."

"It'll only take a..."

Luebella's eye sockets glow an unholy green

"NO EXCEPTIONS. I have my orders and your have yours. Need I remind you that any 'discipline' handed down to me because my 'charge' can't follow instructions will find it's way to the two of you in the end."

" It's not like they'll kill us."

Mock looks down at Ottis.
Ottis looks up at Mock.

Luebella's hands and eyes are glowing now. She points her left hand at Ottis and begins to say something.

Mockrabbit quickly puts his right hand on the hilt of one of the large blades sheathed on his back, his other hand attempting to shield Ottis.

Ottis twitches his nose and coils up to pounce. 

Luebella's hand stops glowing, and she withdraws it; the unholy energy subsiding. Instead she quickly places her right index finger into the warrior's chest.

"...I am losing patience with you. I have been ordered with your 'care'. Keep trying me and you will see how 'careful' I can be."

Luebella glares at Ottis.
Mock lowers his hand.

"Finish up your business here, now, and report to Undercity. I am assigning the Pandaren mercenary to watch you."

"T'a one wi't no eye?"

Luebella grinds her teeth.

"Finish your business. Get to Undercity. Report."

Ottis backs behind Mockrabbit and 'winks'.


Mockrabbit salutes Luebella.

"Fir t'a Firsaken!"

Luebella turns and walks toward the south gate of Brill. She stops a few feet away from Mockrabbit and turns to him.

"Beware the living."

Ottis turns and chases after a cockroach fleeing towards the stables.

Edited by mockrabbit

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Hardkandy folded her hands behind her back, watching the exchange between Mockrabbit and the other Forsaken. "Is something wrong?" she asked when Mockrabbit returned.

"Not t'worry about," he said. He corraled Ottis between his feet and lifted the rabbit to the crook of his arm. "Need t'g'to Military in Undercity. Want to come with? Grom'gol's zeppelin likely t' be awhile."

Hardkandy rubbed her lower lip with her thumb. Undercity. She hadn't been there since before... before Venomspite. Would it be safe? Had she missed any of the staff at Venomspite who could identify her? She couldn't remember-- she could barely remember what she had done at the Forsaken outpost, sometimes.

Which left her only one answer.

She shook her head. "I can't miss the zeppelin," she said regretfully. "I need to get to Stonard. Drop by there if you can!"

She gave Ottis a parting pat on the head and Mockrabbit a parting wave, and ran through the gate toward the zeppelin towers, carthwheeling up the low slope of the hill.

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The Military wing was lively as usual. Luebella stood near the center of of the wing among the crashing and hacking noise of the weapons of the Death Guard perfecting their strikes. Some of the newly risen are going through basic training near her. Possibly farmers or some other non-combatant role in their first lives. Their clumsy and awkward attempts at hitting each other with practice swords may see them return to the grave sooner rather than later. The Death Knight was becoming annoyed with their sloppiness. 

"If you two do not follow the instruction of your drill master, and do not master the basic art of sword play, you will be nothing more than another 'corpse' on the field and useless to The Forsaken when your service is needed from your people!"
"Stop what you are doing. Go over the movements again. Pay attention to your drill master's movements. Think before you strike. When you are in battle you will not have the luxury of practice swords and the tutelage of your veterans. Swinging wildly and hoping to connect will cost you. Strike first. Strike true, or be stricken down."

Her head turns towards the west gate as she glimpses Mockrabbit enter the Quarter, Ottis perched on his shoulder.

"....even the exceptions will get caught from time to time."

The two newly risen begin going over movements with the drill master again.
Luebella walks towards Mockrabbit. Mockrabbit salutes Luebella and then places Ottis on the ground beside him. Ottis moves slightly behind Mock keeping his gaze on Luebella.

Luebella slightly nods.

" You were due back here a week ago. Explain yourself."

Mockrabbit removes his face guard and holds it under his left arm.
Ottis still stares cautiously at Luebella.

"Aye, we ran in'ta a 'thorn' on t'a way back."

Ottis scratches his left ear.
Luebella says nothing, still staring at Mock.

"Anyway, we couldn't find any evidence ta support t'a claims of surviv'in Val'kyr inhabit'in t'a ol' Valkyrion site nir t'a pass. T'a Orcs were eith'r see'in ghosts or jus fish'in t'a see w'at we'd do. Didn't even see any remain'in Hyl'nir. T'a place was dead."

Luebella crosses her arms

"The Apothecary thought as much, that's the only reason they requested me to send you."

She turns and takes a few steps. Her arms returning to her sides as she turns back to Mockrabbit.

Ottis looks less tense now and moves out in front of Mock, sitting on his hind legs and standing up.

"Still, even the slightest chance that a few surviving Val'kyr had managed to hide in the mountains all this time warranted investigation."

She looks at the two newly risen trainees still going over movements with their drill master.

"One day we may not be able to continue increasing our population. The Val'kry are our only hope right now."

She turns towards Mockrabbit again.

Mock has placed his face guard on the ground. He is kneeling, his right hand stroking the back of Ottis.

Luebella places her left hand up on her chin.

"Even when the creation of 'mindless'..."

She glances at Ottis and then at Mockrabbit.

"...or 'otherwise' may be a risk."

Her hand lowers again.

"What else have you to report? What of this 'thorn'?"

Ottis runs off to where the two newly risen have are sparing.
Mockrabbit rises back up, bending backwards slightly. A loud crack is heard coming from his dry spine.

"Well, more of a paladin problem t'an a 'thorn'"

Ottis gives chase to a rather large roach near the sparing session.

"Furry Vengence!

Mock raises his hand to attempt to quiet Ottis. He stops mid air as he realizes no one else seemed to hear him.

"We were given no information indicating Paladins operating in that area. We expected their presence closer to Dalaran but not in the peaks."

Ottis can be heard squeaking and the roach hissing as they prepare to duel for supremacy of the quarter.

Luebella doesn't seem to notice, lost in thought for a moment.

She steps towards Mockrabbit.

"Go on, what of this Paladin?"

Mockrabbit takes a step back as Luebella moves forward.

"Well, we were rid'in back up to t'a Grom'arsh look-out camp to catch a ride back to Vengeance Land'in. Ottis notic'd it first, t'a sound of steel crash'in against steel. T'a battle cry came next. I dismount'd an' left t'a horse on t'a narrow path up to t'a camp."

Ottis and the roach have now taken their battle onto the sparring floor, darting around the trainee's feet as they in turn try not to step or trip on them as they continue with their session.

"When we got to t'a top o' t'a path at t'a edge o' t'a camp we seen t'a human fight'in wi't t'a Orc guards. All but one o' t'a Orcs were mov'in t'a inhabitants in'ta the old zeph shelt'r . T'a one Orc was hold'in her own against t'a meat bag until t'a flight mast'r at t'a camp try'd to jump on t'a human's back."

Luebella shifts her weight to her right side.

Ottis jumps in the air towards one of the trainees. He kicks off of the trainee's chest. This knocks him backwards and out of the way of a potentially hard strike from his sparring partner. Ottis launches himself towards the battered roach attempting to flee the arena.

" T'a paladin swept t'a Orc warrior's leg wi't his mace as she was moment'rily distract'd by the t'a flight mast'r's attack. She fell hard."

Ottis lands on the roach.
The trainee regains his footing and makes a desperate lunge at his partner in an attempt to put some distance between them.

"T'a paladin spun a'ound quickly, send'in the flight mast'r sail'in to t'a ground.
T'a paladin brought his mace down on t'a Orc's head befir I even had time to ready my blades.
T'a Orc guard was be'in dragg'd in'ta t'a shelt'r, struggl'in t'a whole time an' roar'in at t'a human like some kind'a berse'rk'd animal."

The Trainee's lunge misses. His partner, rather than moving back as expected, moves forward and hits the still stumbling foe hard on his back.

Ottis pauses for a moment as the roach hisses again, pinned under the rabbit's weight. It is cut short as Ottis bites the head off of his game.

"He spotted us as I start'd towards him. Ottis ran around to cov'r his back, cutt'in off a possible r'treat."

The drill master briefly congratulates the still standing Forsaken with a nod as at the other trainee rises back to his feet.

Ottis swallows the roach's head and then hops back towards Mockrabbit.

"T'a t'ing is he seem'd to be expect'in us t'ere. He smil'd a little as he seen me com'in towards him. He rais'd 'is mace above 'is head try'in to crush us in one blow. I delfect'd it. He seem'd invigor't'd aft'r t'is. Fast'r. Driv'n. "

Ottis hops past Luebella's foot and into Mock's face guard that is still resting on the floor.

"If it wasn't fir Ottis, an' t'at injur'd Orc refus'in t'a stay down, I t'ink he would 'ave consum'd us wi't t'at burn'in light."

"You were sloppy. He made us look like an amateur."

Mock picks up Ottis.

"I t'ink t'a cold ju' slow'd us down."

Ottis blinks.

"Throwing your sword over the side of the mountain, and then us spending three days trying to find it, slowed us down"


Edited by mockrabbit

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Luebella takes another step forward, once again crossing her arms.


She points at the two new risen that are beginning a new sparring session.

"Those two may be fresh out of the ground, and learning there place here, but at least THEY can stay on task. No more bickering amongst 'yourselves'.
What did you learn?
What happened to the Paladin?
What was his name?
What information did you get from him?
Why was he there?"

Luebella's eyes briefly glow an unholy green and then fade away into the dark sockets where eyes should be.

Mockrabbit takes another step back. The hair on Ottis's back stands up for a moment.

"...we didn't get a chance to question him. T'a Orc, Ottis an' I 'disabl'd' him befir he 'slipp'd' off o' t'a side of t'a peak."

Ottis's ears lay down now across his back.

Mockrabbit takes another two steps back.

Luebella takes a step forward. She speaks through a her tightly clenched jaw now.

"Think hard. Was there anything, ANYTHING, that you can give me to take back regarding this attack on the outpost?"

Her tone is low, direct and frustrated.

Mockrabbit looks at Ottis for a moment.
Ottis moves onto Mock's foot.

"The trophy?"


Mockrabbit reaches into a pouch on his belt and pulls out a bit of bone with rotten flesh attached.

"T'is is all we were able to recov'r."

Edited by mockrabbit

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Luebella takes the remains of the finger. She is silent for a minute.
She looks up at Mockrabbit and over at Ottis. Here jaw still clenched, her left hand balled into a fist.

"It will at least give legitimacy to your report."

She turns and begins to walk out of the Quarter, but stops a few steps away for the west gate. She turns her head side to the side, to Mock and then Ottis.

"You're to be at the Pandaren portal in Ogrimmar in 2 weeks time. Now that The True Horde is no longer in control of the city we can continue our exploration of the new continent. Enter it and travel to the Tian Monastery. The Pandaren monk will be waiting for you there. She will provide you with your new orders then. "

Mockrabbit nods.

"One more thing."

A glow can once again be seen coming from her eyes.

"If you ever kill another suspect that you may suspect plotting against the Forsaken you are to capture them, and bring them back for interrogation. They only need to be alive and able to talk. Do you understand?"

Mockrabbit nods again and salutes Luebella.

"Fir t'a Firsaken."



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((These events come after'Loony Toons' , and makes reference to a very early short story called 'Kota Peak's big bug': viewtopic.php?f=14&t=125 *Hardkandy's text is in RED))

Brill's night sky was bright this day, no clouds to hinder the star light.

"I wond'r if we're be'in sent ta escort anoth'r prison'r."

Mockrabbit mumbled to himself as he tooK the reins of his undead steed. It's armor cleaned and new shoes applied to the to its cold hooves.
Ottis moves slowly around the stable, not able to find any small game to play with.

"Would explain why t'a Pand'ren will be join'in us, Luebella didn't like t'at t'a last one went miss'in*."

Mock hands the Farrier his fee, the coins make a slight clinging sound as the fall a short distance into his hand.
After being sure he was paid in full the Farrier also pulls out an envelope from his back pocket and hands it to Mock.

"W'at's this?"
"That Elf left it for you, said to give it to you when you returned for your horse."
"An' aft'r ya had been paid up too?"

Ottis looks up at the Farrier, his nose twitches
The Farrier nods

"You're welcome."

The Farrier turns his back to Mock and Ottis, and walks over to his next customer.
Mock opens the envelope.

A letter on plain parchment; the writing is neat but compact:

Hello, Mockrabbit,

I'll be in Silvermoon in a few days, until the year changes. Come by and see the Winter Veil lights! I'm staying at the Wayfarers' Inn.

Give Ottis a pet for me!

-- Hardkandy

Ottis looks up at Mock as he bends down slightly to rub the top of the rabbit's head.

"Don't even think about it, we will on be guard duty at the Deathknell if Luebella doesn't maim us when she puts you through her gauntlet of ghouls."

Mockrabbit stands up, raising his left hand to the base of his face guard.

"Strange one t'at Blood."
"Some might say the same about you, looks like you're talking to your horse".

Mockrabbit looked up in time to see the Farrier staring at him, his head cocked to the side. It quickly straightened up and he turned back to his work once he noticed Mock look up at him

"Yir jus' not speak'in loud enough, t'at's all".

Ottis Placed one of this front paws on the Mock's leg.
Mock scoops him up and mounts his steed.

"Ya t'ink she's on t'a up-an'-up?"
"She didn't question our 'quirks', and she fed me. Maybe good to have another ally."

They started to ride out of Brill towards the Zeppelin towers outside the town walls.
Mock glanced at the letter again.

"Guess we may pay a vis't to Ston'rd when we get back."
"Let's try and not almost be killed this time out, and stay away from the Mantid."*
Mock pats Ottis's head as they head towards the tower with the dock to Orgrimmar.
"They taste funny."

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Fire and Time

Flames rained from the sky behind them. Mockrabbit was trying to keep up to the Monk that was now running 10 yards in front of him. She clenched a chain connected to the neck and hands of corpse that was defiantly being dragged behind her. Ottis dashed in a zig-zag pattern close behind Yurrie making him a hard target, and a distraction to the bound prisoner.

"T'ey're gain'in!"

Mock briefly looked behind him to see the Ordon still in chase as they crossed the ruins on the Time Lost Isle. One of the 'flame summoners' and maybe five of the 'runts' unrelenting in their pursuit.

Yurrie slows her pace as she sees the gate leading out of the Ordon territory.

"Keep close Rabbit..."

A large Yaungol with a shield and black blade moves to block the path through the gate.
Yurrie stops, her chained undead falls to the ground just behind her.
Ottis hops up onto his chest. She draws the pole from her back as Mock catches up to them, the pursuing Ordon not far behind.

"...they will not be surrendering one of their emissaries so easily"

The captive laughs.

The Ordon warrior at the gate bellows " You will all be a sacrifice to Ordos!"

Mock reaches Yurrie and stops. His foot lands on the cackling corpse's head, pressing down on his jaw, muffling his fanatical yammering. Ottis bears down on all fours facing the Ordon group almost on them now. Mock raises his axes.

"Time to test t'a blades, 'ead or tails?"

Yurrie plants a hand on Mocks right shoulder, flipping herself over top of him with ease, spinning him around towards the Oathguard blocking the gate.

"Tails. You have the big one at the gate."

She lands just as the smaller Yaungol reach them. With a sweep of her pole-arm she trips three of them. The remaining two stop just outside of reach. The Fire-Watcher launches a blast that misses it's mark and passes over Yurrie's head.
The fallen Yuangol start to rise back to their feet.

"Remove him quickly!" she shouts, "More will be on the way."

The monk leaps spinning into the air, her foot making contact with four of the smaller Ordon. One is hit so hard its jaw snaps with a loud crack. It falls to the ground unconscious.

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Ottis switches his attention to the prisoner as Mock removes his foot from the prisoner's skull.
Mock looks down at Ottis and nods.

The prisoner begins to cackle again.

"You will all BURN! You will only k..."

Ottis takes a hold of his jaw in his mouth, bracing himself on the corpse's face by placing his hind legs in the fanatics eye sockets.

"Heh. I'll remeb'r t'at".

Mock charges towards the Yaungol blocking the gate. The Oathguard lunges towards Mockrabbit. They collide head on and are both knocked to the ground. The Yaungol is the first to rise to his feet, raises his blade high above his head and then brings it down. Mock rolls out of the way just as the blow fractures the ground. Scrambling back to his feet he rushes at the flame worshiper again, this time leaving a large gash on his back as an axe meets the skin of the large agile target.

The sound of metal meeting flesh can be heard on the opposite side of the path as the monk continues to work her way through the crowd.

"You are too loud little one."

Yurrie's Halberd pierces the stomach of a Candle-Keeper that had circled around behind her. He roared as he attempted to grab her from behind.
The blade of her weapon pushes through his waist with ease.

"It gives you away."

She twists the pole. Blood pours onto the ground. The Ordon slumps over and falls to his side, the instrument of its demise still protruding from his abdomen.
A hard fist strikes the right side of her head and she is forced to let go of the pole-arm. She stumbles to her left as the small Yaungol winds up for a second strike to ground Yurrie.
The other two are closely behind and the Fire-Watcher appears to be preparing to summon another bout of flame from the heavens.

A small amount of blood trickles out of the side of Yurrie's mouth.

She rolls backward, the hay-maker misses and Yurrie regains her footing. She squats down and leaps into the air, fist first, striking the Yaungol in the neck with a precise and crushing blow. He falls to his knees, a horrible gurgling sound comes from his throat. He tries in vain to gasp for air through his shattered windpipe.

The other two stop as Yurrie grasps her halberd and pulls, releasing it from the body of it's previous victim.

The two Ordon puff up their chests as though they are going to explode. The Watcher shouts something aloud in the Yaungol language as the his flames begin to fall.


The prisoner managed to roll along the ground knocking Ottis off of his face. He clumsily rises back to his feet and runs toward Mockrabbit with his chained hands raised above him like a club of rotten flesh and steel.

Mock's back is turned to the screaming nuisance.
The large shield of the Oath-guard slams into Mock's face. He narrowly deflects the black blade that followed with his axe.

The prisoner is now three yards away.


Mockrabbit falls a couple of steps back and is struck again by the heavy shield, his faceguard is knocked off of his head.
Mock taunts the Ordon as he narrowly ducks a large swing from the sword.

The prisoner is a few feet behind now and he begins to bring down his hands to the back of Mockrabbits skull.


A streak of white fur blindsides the enraged prisoner. He is knocked back to the ground. His shouts of revenge and burning salvation are turned to cursing. Then just noise escapes his mouth as what was left of his rotten tongue is violently torn from his leathery mouth.


Ottis swarms over him attacking his arms,legs, and anything else that will keep his prize down.

The Oath-guard briefly turns his attention from Mockrabbit towards the shouting 'critter' in confusion.

An axe swing connects.
Even distracted the Yaungol manages to avoid most of the blow. It glances off of his thigh and he falls to one knee, blood running out of the wound. Mock's other axe spins around looking for the Ordon's neck.
The Oath-guard raises his sword and blocks the axe.

"...ya don't know w'en to give up, do ya?"

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Yurrie dashes from side to side, running past the summoned falling flame.
The two Candle-keepers are reduced to just one.
She had broken the others leg just after discovering these smaller Yaungol could 'breathe fire'. A swift spinning kick to the side of the crippled Ordon's head knocked him out of the fight.

Flame erupts from the Watcher's right hand.

Yurrie runs and leaps into the air again, she knocks the Watcher to the ground with a flying kick.

A fireball leaves the Watchers hand as he falls and scorches Yurries left forearm.

She screams from the pain of the burn, and clenches her arm out of instinct, but does not drop her weapon.
Her scream is cut short and she quickly dodges to her right, the heat of fire from behind her singes the hair on the back of her head.
She spins around to see the last Keeper performing his flaming breathe 'trick'.
Moving quickly she circles around behind the flame thrower. She is fast, faster than the Ordon.
She stops behind him and raises her pole as he turns and faces her, his 'trick' exhausted.

"Almost." Yurrie says in an almost reassuring voice.

The Halberd comes down fast and hard. His head splits diagonally as the blade passes through it. A thud is made as his body hits the ground.

The watcher struggles to get back to his feet, and is frantically scrambling backward. His staff lies on the ground out of his reach. Quickly he chants again and raises his right hand, flames begin to leap from his fingers tips.
They never have a chance to find a mark and the Yaungol's hand falls flat. The light in his eyes dim, then fade. The Halberd finds a home in the Watcher's chest.

His axe swings again at the guard only to come into contact, again, with the shield.

"Can't we jus' call it a draw?"

The Yaungol's blade tears through Mock's plated robe at his midsection, lodging in his abdomen.

Mockrabbit reels backwards dropping the axe in his right hand. He clutches the hilt of the sword and falls to a knee.

"...guess not..."

The Oath-guard rises up on his good leg and hobbles over to Mockrabbit.
Standing triumphantly above the wounded warrior he raises his shield to crush the undead creature that has tested him.

Mockrabbit pulls the Ordon blade from his own useless gut and jams it into the stomach of the 'victorious' flame protector.

" Su'prise."

His shield is still raised as he realizes what has just happened. Looking down he sees his own sword now firmly stuck in his body, a stream of his own life pouring out of him. His eyes focus on the undead's eye sockets as Mock rises to his feet, an axe still in his left hand.

The Yaungol grabs Mock by the throat and lets loose an bestial roar. A sound from a battle hardened warrior that has nothing left to lose.

Ottis stops tearing away at the prisoner's ankle and looks up towards the animalistic sound. He dashes over to the berserked Yaungol.



Mock swings his axe into the beast's leg.
The grip loosens and Mock slips away just as the Yuangols shield crashes down into the ground. The Ordon falls face first into the ground. Swallow breathing can be heard from tired lungs.

Ottis arrives at Mock's side.

Mockrabbit stands over the fading Ordon warrior.

" Should'a tak'n t'a draw."

The axe falls on the faithful's neck. His labored breathing stops.

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Free of the torment being delivered by the fuzzy horror, the Ordon hopeful slowly crawls away to a hiding spot. He inches towards a tree near the gate hoping it buys him some time.

"Where do you think you're off to?"

Yurrie picks up her prisoner and throws him over her shoulder.
She can see that his right foot has been gnawed off at the ankle.

"You should be thankful, I get to carry you now."

The fanatic makes some noise, a struggle at enraged speech.

"I didn't catch that." Yurrie says as she wipes some more blood from her mouth. The pain from her badly burned arm constant as she runs over to the gate leading down the cliff side.

"It's because I have his tongue."

Ottis playfully circles Yurrie.

Mock observes the large hole in his armor, and what remains of his stomach.

"T'at could've hurt."

Yurrie stops in front of the warrior, looking st the undead with some concern and bewilderment.

"Noth'in t'at can't be patch'd." Mock examines the damage and reaches into the cavity with a hand.

"Stop picking at it, you'll wreck your spine. I don't think the monk will carry you as well."


The Forsaken were still a curious group to the Pandaren from the Wandering Isle. These unliving beings left her with so many questions, even after spending months working for them and living in Undercity.

A stampede of hoofs can be heard in the distance behind them.

Mock and Yurrie turn their heads towards the bridge. A larger group of Ordon are charging towards them.

"Move quickly, we can lose them at the base of the cliff in the woods. I have already arranged our transport to the Shrine, but it will do us no good if we are dead before we reach the Huojin. Go. Now!"

Yurrie sprints off through the gate and down the cliff path, the chained prisoner bouncing on her shoulder all the way down.

Mockrabbit scoops up Ottis and follows as quickly as he can. Yurrie can hear him shout behind her.

"Slow down!"

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The Shrine of Two Moons was busy as usual. There is less of a Horde military presence now, researchers have filled that place. They are gathered to study the effects of the destruction left behind in the vale, Garrosh's legacy has scared the once picturesque land. Many others have traveled to the shrine to witness the coming trial of the former Warchief. 

Mockrabbit and Yurrie made their landing on the terrace and squared up with the flight master.

" T'at hole was in t'a wing when we got it."

Mock looks over at the hole in the kite that the flight master points to not looking impressed. Yurrie, Prisoner still on her shoulder and squirming to escape, reaches into a pouch on her belt and hands the flight master some gold for the repairs.

" A blast'd firework shot t'rough it ov'r t'a Jade For'st" Mock insists as he turns and follows Yurrie towards the large doors leading into the shrine, Ottis keeping pace with Mockrabbit.

"Your rotten foot is hardly a rocket."

They walk into the shrine, the main hall bustling with activity. Yurrie climbs the main staircase, the chained undead on her shoulder opens his mouth to say something but only a wheezing sound escapes his throat.

Mockrabbit looks down at Ottis as they begin to climb the ornate stairs.

"W'at o' his tongue t'en, an' inability to talk? Wa't ar' we go'in to tell Luebella o' t'at?"

"He tripped. Fell. Bit it off ?"

Mock chuckles.

They follow Yurrie into the portal room of the shrine. Luebella is standing in the center of the room, a large ghoul at her side. 

"This may hurt a bit."

"Let's jus' get it ov'r wi't."

Yurrie stands in front of Luebella and nods. She keeps a few feet of distance from the twitching ghoul that stands and waits impatiently for orders from it's master. Luebella nods in return.The prisoner still struggles to break the Pandaren's grip while pinned to her shoulder.

"Give the prisoner to the ghoul."

Yurrie shrugs the undead off her shoulder. She hands the chain connected to the prisoners shackles to the large corpse. The ghoul violently grasps it and yanks the prisoner to the ground.
Luebella examines the prisoner briefly. Mockrabbit and Ottis approach. Mock salutes her.

"Missing a foot."

She looks over at Mockrabbit. He has picked Ottis up and is holding him with his left arm.

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Yurrie crosses her arms.

"He was with the Ordon, as you suspected. Unfortunately he had made some acquaintances that did not wish to see him leave with us."

Yurrie gently rubs her bandaged arm. The burning sensation still present within the charred flesh.

"The ghoul can 'assist' him then. A missing foot will not hinder his ability to provide the Apothecary with some information about the Ord... "

The prisoner turns his face towards Luebella and attempts to shout at her, once again only air and some gurgling escapes his maw.

Luebella quickly places her foot on his chest pinning him to the ground. She jams her hands into his mouth. Taking his lower and upper mandible in each hand as she forces the undead's mouth open and glares inside. She releases and walks over to the Pandaren and her charge who is still holding the rabbit.

"What happened to his tongue?" She says in a mono-tone and raspy voice.
"It is difficult to get information from a prisoner that cannot speak. What if he does not know how to write?" Her voice slightly raised now. Not in anger, more in annoyance.

Yurrie looks over to Mockrabbit, a mischievous grin on her face. Mockrabbit scratches the top of Ottis's head.

".....he was like t'at w'en we got t'ere."

Yurrie looks at Luebella, still a slight grin on her face. She nods her head in reassurance of Mock's account.

"At least this one is alive."
The ghoul snorts and hoists the prisoner onto it's back.
Luebella reaches to her belt and removes two small pouches. She drops one in Yurrie's hand.

"As agreed upon, plus a little extra to cover your 'rabbit' time. Find me in the War quarter if you are still planning on remaining in Trisfal. I will have use for your services again."

Yurrie bows before Luebella and then walks towards the portal to Undercity.
She stops before entering and turns to Mockrabbit and Ottis.
"Until next time" she says to Mockrabbit and Ottis before stepping into the portal.

Luebella hands Mockrabbit the second pouch, the coins jingle as he ties the pouch to his belt.

"I have no more 'tasks' for you right now, you are relieved of duty for the time being. I will send for you when I have another mess that needs to be cleaned up".

Mockrabbit nods to Luebella. The rabbit's ears perk up.

"I'll bring a mop."

Mockrabbit clutches Ottis, quickly salutes Luebella and runs through the portal to Undercity before Luebella can fully react. They enter the portal just as her eyes start to glow.

"We need to git away from 'ere fir awhile." Mock exclaims as he walks across a bridge over the canal in Undercity, Ottis pouncing on each and every roach unfortunate enough to cross his furry path..

"Stonard it is."

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((This is takes place in Stonard with Hardkandy))

Hide 'n' Seek

"What do y' do here?" Mockrabbit asked.

"A bit of this an' a bit of that," Tezkali answered, chuckling. "I skin, patch up injured an' sick. Hardkandy helps me wit that, a' times. Picks flowers, mostly."

"Mostly quiet here." Hardkandy smiled at Mockrabbit, ducking past him and Tezkali up the stairs and returning at a run. She held out a lump of meat, the skin crisped brown and crackling, to Ottis. The rabbit deigned to skewer the offering with his teeth, just missing Hardkandy's fingers. "Trade some at Booty Bay...." Her voice trailed off. 

Mmm...seasonings! said Ottis.

'Boot'eh Bay' Mocrabbit thought to himself, 'why does t'at name seem familiar?'. 

"Maybe you were there once before, you know, when you were a breather".

Tezkali looked at Mockrabbit with some confusion on her face. ' Was he talk'in to himself again, or was that Ottis?', the thought quickly flashed through her mind.

Hardkandy fed the last of the meat to Ottis as she rubbed his ear between her thumb and finger.

"Maybe" Mock said. He leaned his back against the wall as stretched a bit. A snapping sound filled the room as old dry tendons and muscle cracked when he straightened out his spine. His arms crossed and he turned his view out a nearby window. Every now and then something familiar would cross his mind as he had been to a place he had never been, or met someone he had never seen since his 'second life' began. His empty eye sockets seemed to stare off at nothing in particular for a moment before he gave his head a slight shake and turned his attention back to his hosts.
"Well is t'ere anyt'ing you two need a hand wi't. Help us get to know t'a area a little bit. Can't 'ave Ottis eat'in an' sleep'in in all t'a time. Makes him 'soft'".

Ottis perked his ears up and his dark round eyes glared up at Mock. "As long as I can stay ahead of you I'll be fine" he exclaimed in a dark tone.

Tezkali gave her head a turn. ' I'm sure that was the rabbit, but the voice came from Mockrabbit... this may take some gett'in used to".

"Mm, the Bloodsails are making trouble again." Hardkandy gave Ottis' ear a final rub and rose. "Going after smaller ships, ones new to the trade down here. Some pestering the dwarves down in Stranglethorn, too, so I hear. "

"Where you hear that, girl?" Tezkali asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

"The hunters you patched up yesterday," she said casually. "Booty Bay's looking for help, too, they said. I can show you the Bay if you want," she told Mockrabbit. "After I do my hair." She tugged at her left sidelock with a sigh. "So tired of being a blond."

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Ottis moved close to Mockrabbit and turned his head upward, staring at him for a moment. Mockrabbit nodded.
"She'll send fir us when t'ere is new ord'rs.".
Mockrabbit and Ottis looked towards Hardkandy as she continued to grapple with her hair. "Sounds like a plan, maybe we can watch the corpse walk the plank!". Ottis lowered his head and began to scratch the side of his face.
Mockrabbit bent down and picked up the fur ball. "Sounds like a problem fir t'a 'breath'rs'".



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They had been sitting at the table for some time now. The server hadn't bothered to stop by in the last half hour after disagreeing with her 'tip'.
" Drink plenty of water is not a tip".
Mock looked at his companion sitting on the table next to an empty plate. He hadn't really touched his beer, he really only had it out of some habit that he couldn't explain. It's not like a corpse could taste it anyhow, nor benefit from the buzz alcohol provided. Besides, most of it just spilled out the side of his slack jawed mouth.
" A tip is a bonus fir except'nal service. She call'd me 'stinky'".
" She's not wrong".

"it's still not right," Hardkandy protested. Tezkali snorted.

"I told ya, I add anymore, ya gonna be sorry." She opened the inn's door. "Ya look fine. Go see your guest, eh?"

Hardkandy hunched her shoulders in apology, and ducked under Tezkali's arm. She could still smell the henna. It didn't look... it didn't look natural. Too bright. She had wanted it darker. Later, maybe.

She bounded up to Mockrabbit's table. "Sorry it took so long. There's wyverns to Booty Bay leaving soon, if you don't want to go by foot."

Mock pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, scooping Ottis with his left arm. 
" Well, t'at's w'at all t'a fuss was about" he said looking at Hardkandy's.
"It looks great!" 
Hardkandy rubbed Ottis head with her palm.
Mockrabbit moved around the table and faced the door.
"It's not bad, not bad at'll. I suppose we s'ould take t'a flight, it'll be fast'r".
"Unless you have an 'accident' and fall off".
"I'll be sure to grab a furry cushion to land on if t'at happ'ns".
Ottis looked up and stared at Mock. Mock stared right back at him.
Hardkandy can't help but grin.
They head through the door and towards the flight master.


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"Have you been to Booty Bay before?" Hardkandy hefted the roll of finished skins off the the windrider and slung it across her shoulders, adjusting the strap of the herb bag. "These need to go to the leatherworkers and the apothecary, but after that, I'm free to do what I want."

She hoped Mockrabbit hadn't made any set plans during their flight from Stonard. She was nervous about being back in Booty Bay. Not quite afraid, but... nervous. That the bounty on her head had not been revoked, she knew.

She had missed her visits here. She was always more comfortable in cities than anywhere else. Stonard was decent enough for an outpost, but so small. She felt a growing happiness, despite the danger and risk.

"I can't say t'at I 'ave" Mock said to Hardkandy. "T'is place 'feels' a little familiar but Ottis an' I 'ave not been 'ear t'at I can recall'. It was an odd sensation that Mockrabbit or Ottis would experience from time to time, dead memories from a different life.

Ottis slowly circled Hardkandy's feet. "Maggots on his brain...", the white ball of fur turns it's head up towards Mock, "..and they're starving". Hardkandy tried to suppress a chuckle. Mock made a weak attempt at a kick to the rabbit and missed, as expected.

"We'll go wi't ya, t'at way we can see w'at's w'at 'ere. Would'nt want anyt'ing to happen to t'a mouth piece t'at keeps follow'in me around".

Ottis darted in between the feet of the busy walk ways.
" EH! Watch it furball! Ya want me to smear ya all over the walk!?" A disgruntled goblin hollered after almost tripping over the rabbit.
Ottis paid him no mind and kept looking in every nook, sometimes stopping briefly to wolf down some forgotten produce that he happened to find.
"This place is a buffet! A stinking rotten buffet that smells like a boot, but a buffet none the less!". Ottis belched, almost too loud for a creature his size.
Mockrabbit was busy surveying the buildings, looking over the faces that passed. He was not used to being by the sea. The humid air loosened his leathery skin just a little. Judging by the look on the faces of some that he passed he guessed it had also enhanced his aroma. The walk creaked at times as they stepped on the swollen wood. The ships in the harbor were a pleasant sight. 
"Maybe I s'ould stop and git an' eye patch" Mock exclaimed.
Hardkandy looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. "Thinking about becoming a sailor, or a pirate?"
"Nah, not'in like t'at. It'd make me look dis'tinguish'd I t'ink, t'at's all". 
Ottis stopped his darting a couple yards ahead of them and stood on his hind legs. "Why not just get some glass googly eyes and a captain's hat. Nothing commands respect like a googly eyed corpse in part of a uniform".

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Hardkandy scooted in front of Ottis, blocking him from the view of the Bruisers. "There's the Salty Sailor," she said, pointing down. "I think the innkeep sells patches, if you're serious." She flashed Mockrabbit a quick smile. "The open market's in that long building -- odd to have an open market in a solid building, don't you think? Anyway, that's our first stop." She patted the bundle of skins. "If we're lucky, we won't have to dicker too much. Skins are always in demand, and the herbs I've got are good for the upcoming fever season."

She led them down to the lower end of Booty Bay, indicating prime fishing spots and the scattering of smaller bars. "They're always changing," she said. "Most don't last very long. "

Mock took note of the places as they passed the store fronts and bars. Ottis was still a few yards ahead of them and still scrounging. A bruiser with an eye patch stood outside one of the small bars. Ottis stopped and waited as Mockrabbti and Hardkandy reached him.
"That one looks nice, why don't you ask him for his patch?"
Hardkandy snickered, and a few others walking by them stared. 
Mock moved over to Ottis, knelt down, and patted him on the head. The bruiser didn't hear Ottis.
"Maybe I can find a nice parrot 'ere. One t'at doesn't talk as much". 
"They tend to stop talking when they're being eaten".
Mockrabbit rose again. Hardkandy had stopped in front of the two quibbling curiosities. It was entertaining to watch the two take jabs at each other. A smirk formed on her face. "Oh, you don't need a parrot. Maybe he just needs some training".
Mockrabbit let out a gravelly chuckle, his jaw rising and falling loosely. Not having lips made him look more of a child eater than entertained. The small crowd that had started gathering around them took a short step back at this sight. Some where looking to see if the rabbit was talking or if the Forsaken talking to it was a ventriloquist. Others simply stopped to find out what was going on. A few quickly moved on after spotting, or smelling, the corpse. The bruiser with the eye patch was among the crowd, stone faced but taking in the show. A Goblin looked on attentively, keeping her eyes on the rabbit and the undead.
"I've tried but he refuses to roll over and can only just barely play dead".
Laughter rose from the small crowd, Hardkandy laughed along with them, attempting to muffle the outburst with her hand, her skins shook on her shoulder. If Mockrabbit could smile he would have right then, instead he closed his mouth to form his skeletal grin and crossed his arms. He looked down at Ottis who was looking over the crowd, his ears up and nose twitching.
"Well, now t'at ya have an audience maybe I should make ya disappear". Mock said with a false tone of seriousness in his voice. "Or maybe I sell ya to t'a highest bidd'r an' go buy t'at parrot" he said as he raised what was left of an eyebrow. Hardkandy jumped up and down, raising her hand in the air excitedly "OH! Five gold, I bid five gold!". Ottis lowered his ears a bit and glared at the Blood Elf, "Five gold? FIVE GOLD?! you clearly cannot spot a priceless masterpiece when it is right under your nose. I reject your pittance!"Ottis turned his back to his companions, turned up his nose and took a couple of short steps towards the crowd that was now laughing quite heartily at the scene. Ottis was eating it up. Hardkandy was enjoying the performance just as much as the audience, if not more.
Mock lowered himself to his right knee, resting his hands on it. He looked up at Hardkandy who was still grinning ear to ear, " I guess I'm stuck wi't him t'en. Maybe I can 'teach' him to be quiet. T'at, or a muzzle". Hardkandy looked down at Mock and raised her hand to her chin " A muzzle might mean the end of your fingers". Hardkandy knelt down and reached into on of the pouches on her belt, a small piece of jerky was produced which she extended towards Ottis who was still ignoring the pair until he caught wind of the dried meat. He quickly ran over to Hardkandy and snatched the scrap from her hand, swallowing it quickly. " With enough food I think you can keep him quiet, and happy. You can call it 'training' ".
Ottis smacked his lips, " No one trains the Furry Vengeance! You'd have better luck teaching that bag of bones to stand on his head".
Hardkandy jumped up to her feet and in the blink of an eye was standing on her hands and walking backwards in a circle around the pair. " Not hard at all!" she exclaimed before using her arms to propel herself back onto her feet. Ottis looked up at Mockrabbit, " She learns quick, what's your problem?".
Mockrabbit crossed his arms again and rubbed the rabbit's head.

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Hardkandy straightened the bundle of skins back into place. "I think he needs to limber up," she said, giving Mockrabbit a quick grin. 

"I dunno," someone called back from the crowd, "them Forsaken can be mighty quick!"

Her grin faltered. Forsaken. Venomspite.

No. She wouldn't think about that now.

"No more acrobatis until I'm rid of these." She patted the skins, and, trotting through their impromtpu audience, ducked inside the marketplace. A goblin with a coil of nets across her shoulder hopped out of Hardkandy's way, shooting the blood elf an angry scowl. Hardkandy waggled her fingers in apology and made her way to the hide dealer's booth.

He was in a mood to dicker. Hardkandy didn't notice when Mockrobbit and Ottis joined her, Ottis keeping up a sotto voce commentary on the market's customer base. Just as they had reached the point of hard silver, the hide dealer decided he wanted her herbs as well. Nonplussed but willing to oblige, Hardkandy settled on her skins and began a new round of bargaining.

"Awful lot of guards here all of a sudden."

Ottis' comment made the hair on the back of Hardkandy's neck stand on end. She slid the herb pouch across the counter. "That's good for today," she said, and held out her hand. The hide dealer counted out the price a little too slowly. Hardkandy pocketed the coins and turned to Mockrabbit.

"That's that. We can get some fishing in now." She started for the exit, Mockrabbit and Ottis falling in behind her. She didn't look at the Bruisers milling through the aisles. "I know just the cove."

The exit was there, only feet away. She stepped through it. Mockrabbit craned his neck, looking up and down the walkway. Ottis raised on his back paws. "Something stinks and it's not fish." 

"Hey, good deal you got back there..." A Bruiser showed his teeth. "... Dejia."

Mockrabbit stopped beside Hardkandy, who was briefly startled at the appearance of the Bruiser stepping in front of them.
"..Vu?" Ottis could be heard saying aloud. The guards that had surrounded them looked at the three with a little confusion. Hardkandy took a quick step back. "Deija?" Mockrabbit replied, "I t'ink yir mistak'n. No Deija 'ere". He had said it with a tone of respect in his voice, there was no point in escalating a situation of mistaken identity. "No, not mistaken corpse", the Bruiser kept his eyes on Hardkandy in his reply to the Forsaken. Hardkandy shifted a little uncomfortably and placed her hands behind her back. The Bruisers had tightened around the three. "This is the elf I'm looking for".
Ottis moved out in front of Hardkandy and coiled up on his hind legs. "You are mistak'n I'm afraid", there was forcefulness in this reply. He took a step towards the still smiling Bruiser, " T'is is Ha'dkandy, a skin an' herb trad'r. You can call me Mock, a sold'r o' t'a Firsak'n". Ottis rose up to his hind legs and pushed his front paws onto Mockrabbit's leg, his claws scratching his the plated boot. "Yeah, yeah. T'is be Ottis". Ottis looked over at the guard, his ears lay back. 
Hardkandy stood straight up again, her hands still placed just out of sight of the goblin. She nodded, "I'm just here to fill an order", She was trying to sound convincing in her statement."Thought I'd take my friends here to do some fishing, they've never been to the bay you know", She was talking a little faster now, "But maybe it's best we be on our way, sorry about the confusion". Hardkandy flashed a smile.

They weren't buying it.

Years of watching and studying guards had gifted Hardkandy with certain insight into the meanings of a shift of a stance, the tilt of a head, the twitch of a hand. She wasn't sure exactly how Booty Bay's Bruisers had twigged to her, but they had. 

How, how? Hardkandy shushed the tiny, panicky voice in the back of her mind. Things could be sorted out later.

The confused smile still on her lips, Hardkandy said to Mockrabbit and Ottis in accented Gutterspeak, "Jump."

Then she did, right into the crystalline waters of Booty Bay.

The bruiser that had stopped them quickly tried to reach out and grab Hardkandy but the elf was too quick. 
"What the hell is going on?" Ottis said looking up at Mockrabbit.
" Looks like we're goign fir a swim" Mock replied. Ottis tried to back away from Mock as he reached down and scooped him up. The brusiers had circled around the two, a few others keeping watch on the water trying to track Hardkandy.
The brusier had a scowl on his face, "You are staying with us until your friend comes back for you".
Mockrabbit shock his head, "Sorry big guy, we 'ave a date wi't t'a fishes, apparently."
The bruisers closed in to grab Mockrabbit. He raised Ottis over his head and threw the fur-ball into the bay. "No,no,no,NO!" Ottis yelled as Mock released him into the air, "I hate fishing!".
A couple of the brusiers grabbed Mock, on had a hold of his right arm, the other struggling to grasp him around the waist. A quick spin forced the one around his belt to fall and release. The brusier on his arm tripped over the fallen one. A quick blast from Mock's elbow made sure he fell. The corpse ran to the edge of the dock and stepped into the water, brusiers right behind him narrowly missed grabbing him. 
"The corpse sank like a stone, trying to swim with plated armor on. He won't last long", one of the brusiers exclaimed. A fist quickly struck the side of the Goblin's face, "He doesn't need to come up idiot! he's already dead!"

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The impact nearly stunned Hardkandy into making the fatal mistake of opening her mouth. She saw nothing but a curtain of vivid blue and bubbles. She wasn't sure which direction was up, which was down. Blinking, lungs burning, she kicked and swung her arms in what she thought was down.

A pillar, washed-out brown and barnacle laden, rose like a tree in front of her -- one of the boardwalk's supports. Near what should be its top, dancinggolden gleams. She moved toward it frantically, clawing up the softened wood until her head broke water. She drew in deep, shuddering breaths, treading water. 

She heard shouting and feet racing above her, both muted somewhat by the daily business of Booty Bay's docks. This support was on the outside of the boardwalk, visible to anyone who cared to look across the port. The inside supports were in the shadows. She gulped in more air in case she had to dive underwater and dog-padlded to the support just across from her. 

Hardkandy clung to this support like a baby monkey to its mother. The bank rose up at her back, sand and rocks and jungle plants considered not worth the effort of clearing away. Her attention swung between the ruckus up above for any verbal indication of search parties, and the water in front of her for Ottis and Mockrabbit. Mockrabbit was a Forsaken -- he didn't need to worry about breathing -- and Ottis was... Ottis. But it was so easy to get disoriented in the water. They could walk out of the Bay and get eaten by something big. She hoped either would spot her soon.

It was tough moving at the bottom of the bay, his plated boots sunk at least a foot into the mud with every step. Sometimes more. Looking up Mock could still see the silhouette of the dock behind him. He had only managed to move about ten feet away from it so far. It looked like a few bruisers were still trying to track him, but were quickly leaving one by one out of view. " Doesn't look like t'ey want to drag t'a bay" Mock thought to himself. 

He picked another heavy foot up from out of the thick silt trying to keep him in it's depth. One step back towards the dock. A large crab scurried towards him, emerging from some kelp next to the dock post that jutted out of the semi-clear water. 

Another heavy step forward, his foot sinking deeper this time, up to his knee. Mock fell forward. His arm moved out to break his fall, only to sink in the muck up to his shoulder. 
The crab moved closer. Mock pulled one of his maces from his back with his free hand and sunk it into the mud. Bracing against the mace he pulled himself back up, but was still knee deep in this temporary prison. The crab raised it's pincers. 

Mock struggled but pulled the mace from the mud and raised it over his head with both hands, and then brought it down...completely missing the bottom feeder. The impact of the mace in the mud was enough to cause the crab to move away and continue looking for a meal somewhere else. "T'at's w'at I t'ought". 

Slowly, painfully, he shuffled one leg forward through the thick mud; then another. Getting back to the dock was going to take a little time, asuming he didn't find a hole and sink into the mud completely. 

He wasn't too worried about guards that would be swarming piers at this point. They wanted Hardkandy, although Mock wasn't sure why. Looking up at the surface of the water under the dock Mock could see a small creature flailing, trying to stay a float and keep itself moving. "He's tak'in to t'a wat'r well. He need'd a bath anyway". Mock chuckled to himself as he kept moving forward through the muck.


"I hope a shark finds him!", Ottis was struggling to swim to shallower water near the shore. He thought he could see someone bobbing up and down in the water next to a post. He started splashing in that direction, some of the waves crashing over his head and submerging him for a few seconds every so often.


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Something moved toward her. Something small.

Hardkandy shielded her eyes with one hand, trying to make out what it was. She kept her other arm wrapped around the post, delaying her slow slide into the water. A wave crested, a tiny head bobbed up, the head and the body to which it was attached coasting forward in the wave's wake. 

"Ottis?" Hardkandy whispered. She dropped her hand from her eyes, held it out. The something lurched forward -- it was Ottis -- and scrambled up her arm to perch on her shoulder. Hardkandy reached up and petted one soggy ear.

"So happy you escaped! Where's Mock?"

With each rise and fall in the water Ottis was forced to scramble to stay on, or at least attached to Hardkandy's shoulder. Ottis used his front right paw to tap Hardkandy's cheek when there was a small break in the waves. He then looked off into the water, a short distance away from where Mockrabbit had thrown him into the bay, before jumping in himself.

Hardkandy looked at the drenched, grappling, rabbit and then to where it's gaze directed. She couldn't see anything below the water from where she was. Ottis didn't seem panicked though, more than anything annoyed with his present situation. If Ottis didn't seem worried than Mock must be doing alright'.

A small wave broke against the pier, the spray hitting Ottis in the face and knocking him back off of Hardkandy's shoulder. Hardkandy reached out and grasped the 'drowning rat' by his back and puled him back to her. Once again he hurried back up onto her shoulder. He stared at Hardkandy; she nodded in return. "I know, but we need to wait a little longer before going to shore", she looked back up at the dock floor above them. Foots steps could still be heard, although not as many. Off at a smaller dock she could see bruisers clamoring into row boats. "Maybe not to long...". She looked around. They needed a way out the water, or better place to hide.

Another wave swept up, Ottis slid off of his perch again, and under the water this time. Hardkandy scooped up her flailing friend quickly.

Ottis shook his head sending droplets flying in a spray in all directions. He looked back over to where Mock had entered the water. There was a shadow from atop the pier cast down on the water. Too small to be a bruiser, but not moving from it's spot. Someone was watching the corpse.

Another step forward, and one step closer. Mockrabbit reached out to try and grasp a post to pull himself in, but it was still out of reach. He looked up at the surface of the water and could see the silhouette of what must have been a small goblin peering down towards him.

"Lil'help would be nice looky-loo". He raised a hand and waved. It didn't matter if it was a guard, or a fisherman, he was getting annoyed of stumbling in the mud. "C'mon, I know ya can see me!". 

The figure seemed to stand up, look down a moment longer, than disappeared from the edge. Mock waited a minute hoping to see a rope fall to the water, but none came. Mock lowered his head back to mud and continued his struggle towards shore. A school of small fish darted around the posts, and then around him. Mock raised his arms and made a motion to 'shoo' them away. "Und'r t'a water, ya I be stuck 'ere, down in t'a muck 'ere, und'r t'a sea".

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There was a tap on Hardkandy's cheek from Ottis' paw, then the rabbit exaggeratedly looked up. Hardkandy looked up, too.

A small shadow -- goblin or gnome. Most likely goblin. It moved back, almost directly over them, then turned at an angle, as if trying to search the bay.

For them?

Hardkandy pushed gently away from the post toward the slant of bank at her back. Her heel dug into sand. Keeping to the shadow cast by the boardwalk's supports, she crab-walked backward onto dry land, Ottis's paws around her neck. Scrub brush and saw grass stung her hands. She ignored the pain and, still keeping to the shadows, raised from her crouch enough to see the boardwalk proper.

A goblin shaded his eyes with his hand. At his feet rested a small cage, the kind those awful 'tamers' used to hold small animals. Hardkandy's teeth bared. Not Ottis. She looked past the would-be battler. Farther down the boardwalk bruisers were tossing nets into the water; one was gesturing wildly at a rowboat owner, another was stripping out of his armor and a third was loading harpooon guns.

She peeled Ottis from around her neck, set him on the sand, then leaped and grabbed the edge of the boardwalk. She swung herself up and behind the small goblin just as he started to turn around. Her hands closed around his throat and pressed against the large vein. He passed out and Hardkandy lowered him to the boardwalk.

She caught up a small coil of rope and dropped back to the bank and Ottis.

Hardkandy looked down at Ottis; he was wet, covered in sand, and not looking overly please. The bruisers were in the water with the first boats they 'borrowed'. They were checking under the docks.

She looked down at Ottis, "Do you think can find Mock out there? Do you think he needs help?". Ottis shook himself again, a light spray of water shot out in all directions. He sat on his hind legs and looked out over the water. He first looked towards the bruisers slowly making their way closer to their location, and then closer to the area where they had first entered the water. His eyes narrowed and his ears raised. He looked up to Hardkandy and let out a small, maybe annoyed, grunt. Ottis took one end of the rope she was carrying with his mouth.

Hardkandy nodded. "I'll tie my end here, and keep out of sight. If it looks like your in trouble I'll pull you back in, okay?". Ottis grunted again and then hesitantly jumped back into the water. He slowly splashed his way back out into the bay, diving into the small waves as he came up to them.

The goblin lightly stepped onto the dock from between a stall and some large wooden crates that were shadowed from the overhead awning. She knelt down beside the goblin. She shook her head from side to side with a smirk forming on the left side of her mouth. She grasped the small cage that was left sitting on the dock and tossed it back to where she had been watching. "Amateur" she muttered to herself. 

Peering into the bay she could see the bruisers making their way down the docks closer to where she stood. They would flush them out sooner rather than later. Stepping back closer to the stalls and cargo lining the pier she pulled off her hood, revealing bright red hair. She walked softly down the dock, keeping her eye on the bay.

Edited by mockrabbit

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