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Shallow Grave - The corpse and the rabbit-

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Patience was more than a virtue for Hardkandy; it was a tool, a weapon, a friend. Patience had kept her company through hours-long stakeouts of houses and offices and keeps. It kept her still and silent to do what she had to do. It kept her alive. 

But patience wasn't a fix-all. It worked best when the enemy didn't know you were there. And their enemies were well aware of their presence. 

There was another presence on the dock above her; another goblin, Hardkandy judged. It moved down the dock. To help the bruisers trying to get into boats? 

Hurry, Ottis, Hardkandy wished. If they had another diversion, another ally.

There was always the loa. She had her daggers. Just a little blood...

No. She had promised Tezkali. And things weren't that desperate.

She hoped.

Paddling forward, through wave after wave, Ottis made slow progress. The rope ,clamped with his sharp teeth, was not helping his progress. The weight of it was almost enough to pull him under the water. As he reached the edge he stopped and looked down into the water.
"There's the stink bag"

Mockrabbit, bracing himself against a dock post looked up. "Big talk fir a drown'd rat", he thought. 
Ottis inhaled deeply, and then dove. It was only a few feet down before the rope was handed off Mock, but it was long enough that Ottis flailed in a panic to get back to the surface for another breath. Gasping he started to swim back to Hardkandys hiding spot. '''cough-cough' You better hurry' cough' up. Those goblins are heading our way!"

Mockrabbit pulled him self towards the location on the rope, this was far easier going than trudging through the muck. Looking up as he gained ground against the not-so-deep he could see a shadow on the dock, seemingly following his progress through the water.

Mocks head breached the surface of the water as he walked up the embankment, only a dozen or so feet from the Blood Elf's location. Sea water ran out of his eye sockets as he emerged.
"Swam like a rock" he commented as he walked over to the hiding spot. Ottis was perched on her shoulder, both completely still. "Quiet!" Ottis exclaimed to Mock in a hushed voice, "W'at?" Mockrabbit replied. Hardkandy looked up at Mock and then turned her gaze down the water below the dock. The goblins were 20 yards away.

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"Hey!". A voice yelled from above the hiding trio, " The Elf climbed back up the shore further down that way! She took one of my friends hostage!" she yelled out to the bruisers in the water.
The goblins in the boat closest to the dock talked amongst themselves for a moment and then yelled back to the figure on the dock, "Stay there! someone will be there to escort ya in a few minutes!". The boat than quickly began rowing down the dock past the hiding three.
The rowing party started yelling to another boat in the water, and they in turn back to the bruisers waiting on the wharf where they had taken the boats. Movement ensued, a few of the bruisers were heading back up the dock towards her location she presumed.
She stomped her foot twice on the dock boards. She looked down through the cracks to see the elf, corpse and rabbit looking back up at her. "There is a small hallow you all can climb up a few yards that way. I'll meet you there".

She moved back in between the stalls and crates on the edge of the dock.

"...this might be easier than expected" she said to herself with a slight grin.

The goblin wasn't an ally. Not really. But she was pretending to be one, and right now, getting out of the water and away from the Bruisers was a necessity. Whether they waited around for their supposed rescuer was another matter. 

If it came to it, they were three against her one. 

Hardkandy nodded once to Mockrabbit and scrambled up the bank in the direction the goblin had indicated, Ottis clinging to her shoulder.

Emerging from the hollow, after Hardkandy and Ottis, Mock looked around. They were in a narrow nook between two building next to the dock. 
"Tight spot" he remarked, not really able to turn around without bumping his shoulders on the stone walls.

Hardkandy nodded and started to head out of alley, not wanting to wait for their 'savior'.

A goblins stepped out in front of the exit, a small modified cannon in her hands. 

"That's far enough" she said, lining up the weapon.

Edited by mockrabbit

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The blood elf stopped in her tracks, her hands quickly producing a dagger. The undead behind her was struggling to reach for something off of his back, but the narrow trap kept him from drawing it off. Her bounty leapt from the elfs shoulder on to the ground, coiled up behind her leg.

Catrenna reached around to the back of her belt and unhooked a chain link bag. 
" Specially made for that rodent you have there. Expensive, but the reward will be well worth it". She tossed the bag to Hardkandy who snatched it out of the air. Mock was still struggling behind her to loose a mace from his back.

"Now then, this is how this is going to work. You're gonna put the rabbit in bag, set it on the ground, and then crawl back down into that hollow. Wait there for 5 minutes, everyone gets to leave intact". She aimed the gun down the middle of the alley, her finger on the trigger. 

"Or, I can just yell out to the Bruisers near by. Maybe I'll collect another reward and take the rabbit anyway. The only 'win-win' is for ya two to pop back down there under the dock; after putting the rabbit in the sack".

Hardkandy dropped the bag on the ground, the chain links made a metallic thud as the bag landed. Her eyes narrowed.

"Jus' give me a minute 'ere. Almost got it..." Mockrabbit had a hand on the handle of one of the maces now, but was wedged up against a wall, stuck.

Ottis lowered his head, still behind Hardkandy. 

"Furry vengeance..."

Catrenna lowered the gun slightly out of disbelief. Did the rabbit just talk?

One dagger. And the chain link bag. She had caught the bag on reflex, not as a gesture of obedience. It was heavy, awkward to throw, probably. 

But if it hit, it would hurt like hell.

"Furry vengeance..."

The goblin's gun dipped. Hardkandy threw her dagger.

Through the goblin's large pointed ear.

Blood spurted. The goblin shrieked, her head swinging back and forth rapidly as if trying to shake blood droplets from her eyes. 

Hardkandy whipped the bag at the hand holding the gun. The bounty hunter's grip on her weapon dipped more, see-sawed back up. 

"Run," Hardkandy told Mock. She pulled her other dagger from its sheath. Another quick toss, and the goblin had newly pierced ears. The bounty hunter dragged her free fist across her face before clamping it to the new injury.

"You bitch!"

Ottis clawed up Hardkandy's calf, bounding up to her shoulder. Hardkandy followed her own advice and ran, bumping the goblin in the side with her hip as she passed. The goblin staggered, blood cascading from both ears down her neck.

Hardkandy heard the tramp of Mockrabbit's boots behind her.

The jungle. The jungle at the end of this alley was safety.

The blood was running down both sides of her face. She withdrew her hand from one of her newly pierced ears. The bright red was a sharp contrast to her green skin. She quickly placed it on her gun again and raised it, taking aim at the back of the fleeing Elf. She started to squeeze the trigger, a sense of satisfaction came over her. Before the gun fired she was knocked over. 

The corpse pushed her down as he ran out of the alley and followed the other two. Catrenna's head bounced off the wooden boards of the dock, and the pain in her ears sharpened from the impact. 

She quickly stood back up, and tried to take aim but it was too late. The Bruisers from the wharf were running towards her now. They were too focused on her to notice the fleeing trio in the opposite direction. She didn't alert them. Even if there was reward for the elf, Catrenna wanted her for herself. She picked up the cannon and darted into the narrow alley and through the hollow. The bitch was going to be paid back, "I never forget a mark" she remarked to herself.

Catrenna quickly started to make her way under the docks towards the wharfs. She would start tracking them as soon the area was clear. The new holes in her ears continued to bleed out down her face, neck, and under her leathers.

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The commotion behind them faded as they made their way further into the jungle. They ran for a few hundred yards and finally stopped. Hardkandy leaned against a tree and Ottis jumped down to the ground. Mock was still behind them, but they could hear and see him stomping his way towards them. When he arrived Hardkandy had composed herself.

"Seems you 'ave some admir'rs, both o' ya". 

"I am kind of a big deal" Ottis exclaimed, scratching behind his ear.

Hardkandy opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to tell Mockrabbit and Ottis in regard to what the Bruisers wanted, but she quickly shut her mouth and looked down the direction they came. They had been shadowed. She balled up her fists. Mockrabbit and Ottis turned to face what she was looking at. A large figure rushed from the jungle brush and stopped in front of them. Mock and Ottis let their guard down, it was the one eyed monk. 

"Ya shouldn't be sneak'in up on us like t'at! Could git yirself hurt Yurrie!"

Yurrie chuckled at Mockrabbit. 

"If you say so" she replied with a smirk. "It seems every time I am required to work with you, and Ottis, there is someone chasing you". 

Yurrie turned her gaze to the blood elf standing by a tree, her fists still balled up in uncertainty. 
Yurrie walked towards her and slightly bowed. "It is a good that your companion is quick with her knives".

Hardkandy lowered her fists, but not her guard. Ottis and Mock knew the pandaren; she didn't. They had worked with her -- how? 

That didn't mean she had to be rude.

"Thank you," Hardkandy said. "But I think we should keep moving. Back to Stonard. I can explain there."

Not only to them but to Tezkali. Her blood-sister was not going to be happy.

Mockrabbit opened his mouth, but Yurrie interupted; "Agreed, it just so happens to be in the direction we will be heading". She looked over at Mockrabbit and Ottis. " Your handler has sent me to collect you". 

Mockrabbit closed his mouth and shrugged. Ottis stood on his hind legs, propping himself up against Mock.

" Not much of a vacation". Ottis looked up at Mockrabbit.

Yurrie turned to Hardkandy. From what she had seen while making her way to the three on the dock, she felt she could trust the elf. At least while Mockrabbit and Ottis were around.

" Well then, I suppose we should be off before another spots you".

Edited by mockrabbit

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They stayed off the road, wary of any patrols from Booty Bay. By sunset the breathing among the little group were exhausted. Mockrabbit and Ottis kept watch while Yurrie and Hardkandy slept. At dawn they set out again. Before the sun had risen a palm's breath above the horizon Yurrie flagged down a passing wagon. The goblin wagoneer, an independent contracter by her own proclamation, agreed to take them to Hardwrench Hideway for an almost reasonable price. Food and water were extra, but neither Yurrie nor Hardkandy were up to haggling. What coin Hardkandy had disappeared into the goblin's wallet. 

Two days later they reached Hardwrench; by that evening rented wyverns landed at Stonard. Tezkali was waiting at the roost. "Upstairs. Now," was her only greeting. She took in Yurrie's presence without comment, spun on her heel and tramped back to the inn. Hardkandy followed meekly. Mockrabbit looked at Yurrie, shrugged and fell in behind the blood elf. 

"What happened? I expected ya back days ago!" Tezkali burst out as soon as the door to the room she and Hardkandy shared slammed shut. 

Hardkandy knotted her hands. "We-elll... we ran into trouble..."

"I guessed dat," Tezkali snapped. "What kind o' trouble?"

Hardkandy told her.

Tezkali stared at her. Then she grabbed handfuls of braids and began swearing in Zandali. "Pack," she finally muttered in orcish. "We need ta start packin' now. We gotta be leavin' tonight if we can. Tomorrow at the latest - "

"Why does Hardkandy 'ave a bounty on her head?" Mockrabbit interuppted. "An' why did the Bruisers t'ink her name was Dejia?"

Tezkali looked at Hardkandy. Hardkandy looked at Mock and Ottis, sighed, and told them.

Mockrabbit's glowing eyes flickered. "Y' helped a human set fire t' Booty Bay?!"

" -- didn't even try to hide yourselves?" Yurried asked in disbelief.

"Did you get any nibbles?"

Hardkandy threw up her hands. "He got the jump on me, and he had a gun! He told me to help! You don't argue with a crazy man holding a gun!"

"Point," Yurrie admitted. She looked at Tezkali. "Where were you planning to go?"

Tezkali shrugged. "Revantusk, maybe. Not sure."

The pandaren leaned against the doorframe, drumming her claws on the wood. "Mockrabbit has to go to Orgrimmar. Why not come with us? If we take the zeppelin from Brill, that will throw Booty Bay off your tail for a time. They will expect you to go by Grom'gol."

Tezkali 's brows dipped down, considering. At last she nodded. "Good plan. Thank ya."

Hardkandy stirred -- for a moment she looked about to protest. She shifted her weight, hands behind her back, resembling nothing so much as a child with caught sneaking cookies. 

"You're welcome." Yurrie addressed the troll, but her gaze stayed on Hardkandy; she sensed there was something -- possibly several somethings -- the blood elf wasn't telling them. Let Luebella handle it. If it has to be handled.

The small party set out just before dawn the next day. Even though Yurrie knew it could end badly, she insisted that they needed to board the zeppelin in Grom'gol. Mockrabbit assumed Luebella had Yurrie on a deadline, and the Death Knight wasn't known for her patience. Tezkali and Hardkandy both protested. If there were any Booty Bay bruisers around, or mercenaries with word of a bounty, they would be captured. Yurrie kept smiling through the raised voices. "Trust me." she said in a calm and reassuring tone, "I have some new acquaintances that can help us". Still unconvinced of the Pandarens's unrevealed plan, Tezkali eventually gave in. " Fine! But if anything happens, it'll be on your head". 

They approached the groggy flight master, just arriving for his morning shift. Yurrie paid for some Wyvrens to take them to Grom'gol. "Fly'in right into t'a fire ar' we?" Mock asked Yurrie. She turned to him, "We will force the Wyverns to land a little way outside of Grom'gol. I'll go in, alone, and make our preparations". Mockrabbit nodded, "Well, as long as one o' us has a plan". 

Ottis had decided it would be best for Hardkandy's safety if he road with her, that and she had a some more jerky with her to share with the fur-ball.

They landed without incident about five hundred yards on the outskirt of Grom'gol, and released the Wyverns. Once in the air they continued on their path to the outpost. Mockrabbit shook his head, "Well now, t'at will raise some concern wi't t'a flight mast'r. Miss'in passeng'rs tend to bring about some attention". Hardkandy picked up Ottis and held him tight against her chest. Tezkali started pacing back and forth, muttering under her breathe and staring at Yurrie.

"It could also be a distraction; something to draw guards and those that might be looking for something out of place. Maybe it will keep some eyes from watching the gates". Yurrie looked on at the pacing and worried troll, "I'm going in, you all make your way to the west gate by the beach. Stay by the wall and out of sight. I will meet you there shortly". She bounded off towards Grom'gol, Mockrabbit watching her until he believed she had reached the east gate.

Ottis jumped down from Hardkandy's arms and sat beside Mock. " I'm sure this will end well. How couldn't it?"
Hardkandy moved up next to them, " Can she really get us on zeppelin unnoticed?". Hardkandy had concern in her voice, and who could blame her, she had only just met the monk a few days before. 
Tezkali was still pacing and muttering under her breathe. " Dis be suicide ", the only thing she said loud enough that Mock could hear.

" We've work'd wi't her before, sav'd each oth'rs back too. T'ere's noth'in to worry about. I trust her, an' more importantly, Luebella trust'd her enough to send her fir us. If anyt'ing happens she'll have to deal wi't Luebella". Mockrabbit and Ottis knew what the Forsaken had in store for 'mistakes' for the rasks Luebella and the like handed out. Yurrie, having spent time in Undercity and Brill, likely had heard some rumors also.

Mock started to walk, noisily. "Best be go'in. Might be she won't take t'at long".

They arrived next to the gate a few minutes later. They had used the jungle as much as possible to hide their advance, but the expanse of open sand around the outpost meant that once they reached the wall by the gate they would be in the open. they had stopped for no more than fifteen minutes by the wall before Yurrie came through the gate... followed by a Grom'gol gaurd. 

Mockrabbit drew the maces from his back. The Orc guard produced her axe just as quickly.

"These are the acquaintances that I spoke of, Garjira * ". The Orc paused for a moment and then holstered her axe.
"Better tell the corpse to put his clubs away, you wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself now, Yurrie". 
Yurrie nodded to Mockrabbit, "It's perfectly fine. No need for those". 
Mock waited a few seconds and then put the maces away.
" Everyt'ing good to go t'en?".
"Yes, the zeppelin to Brill will arrive in the hour. Garjira here will escort us to the tower, and wait to see that we are not disturbed until we board".

Tezkali stepped forward, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. "N' just what did Yurrie tell ya would be disturb'in us?" she asked, hoping Yurrie had not revealed too much to the orc so that they could not be easily tracked later.

"Only that there is a days pay in it for me if you all get on the zeppelin without any 'attention' ". The orc smiled at the troll. "That's all I need to know".

Tezkali nodded, though she didn't let down her guard,"We best be go'in then". 

Garjira turned towards the gate. "Stay close to me, eyes straight ahead, and mouths shut from here on". 
Tezkali and Yurrie followed the guard in line. Hardkandy scooped up Ottis and walked on. 
" You're sure Yurrie is on the up and up Mock?". 
Mock stomped his feet forward, walking behind Hardkandy. She didn't look it, but she was worried about blindly following Yurrie and her 'friend'.

" I've know her fir awhile now. Don't worry, she'll take care o' us", he said to Hardkandy.
Ottis perked up his ears, "She fears the furry vengeance!"
Hardkandy smiled and rubbed Ottis's head. 

They entered the west gate and followed Garjira up the tower. Garjira did not permit anyone else on the dock until after the zeppelin had landed, and the small group had boarded, safely. Yurrie was the last of them to board. She handed Garjira a small pouch of gold from her belt, the last of it. Shaking the Orc's hand she smiled, " Give Stone Horn my best. Perhaps next we meet a Pandaren will be stronger than the Orc and the Tauren". Garjira smirked, " Maybe I'll be Warchief next we meet". They both laughed. 

((* Please see Shallow Grave - The corpse and the rabbit-  Fetch for more information on Garjira and Stone horn.))

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To Hardkandy, the zeppelin from Grom’gol existed in a borderland outside time, the trip a mutual illusion everyone from crew to passengers agreed to share. She knew the sky and sea passed above and beneath them, knew that each passing day brought inevitably closer to their destination. But she didn’t feel it. Their travel was an intellectual curiosity that had no bearing on reality.

Truth to tell, she felt very little. Her entire being felt wrapped in fog or enshrouded in cotton, distant from everything else. She wasn’t sure when exactly this distancing happened, perhaps a day or two after leaving Grom’gol. She talked with Mockrabbit and Tezakli and Yurrie and played with Ottis, she ate, she watched the crew, but she felt as though someone else performed those acts. They had nothing to do with her.

What did manage to hold her attention was the box she had carried with her for so long, and the cards it held. She studied the pictures for hours, trying to make sense of them. There were patterns to them, and suits of a sort, like normal playing cards. Tezkali thought they might be an oracle or some kind. This prompted Hardkandy to try to piece together the meanings – if any – behind the patterns and symbols. The only result was frustration. In time she left the cards alone and watched birds flying.


We are going to Undercity.

The zeppelin dockmaster had lied. The Forsaken capital, not Ogrimmar, was their true destination. How could she have missed this? How had Tezkali?

She didn’t want to go to Undercity. She didn’t want to think of Undercity. She began to avoid Mockrabbit and Ottis. She didn’t want to think they had lied to her, and if she didn’t see them, she wouldn’t ask. 

She sought out Tezkali and told her of this awful truth. Her blood-sister looked at her for a long time in silence before saying, “We won’t. I promise you.” 

After that, she felt a little better, and didn’t avoid Mock and Ottis. Both of them seemed sad, though they never said why. 

One morning sand and hills and orc-made towers passed beneath them, not the sea. The zeppelin glided to the dock-tower, guided by the shouts and arguments of the goblin crew. Relief and delight filled Hardkandy; she didn’t argue when Tezkali maneuvered them through the initial wave of disembarking passengers. 

“We’ll stay here for awhile, little sister, “ Tezkali murmured to her in the trolls’ language. “Before we go to Revantusk. You – things will get better, I promise.”

Hardkandy nodded. Of course Tezkali was right. They hadn’t gone to Undercity. She knew Orgrimmar, a little, the good places to hide and the cheap places to sleep. Maybe she would finally learn to understand the cards here.

Things would get better.


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A commotion was coming from the departing passengers of the zeppelin, and a small path was quickly, and awkwardly, made while passengers raised their voices in annoyance. Hardkandy stood on her toes to see what was going on ahead of her, Tezkali placing a hand on her shoulder. Had they been found here? How? 
The crowd parted in front of the pair, and Ottis darted out, front paws on Hardkandy's boot. He looked up at her. She she looked down at the rabbit and she smiled. She reached down and picked up the rabbit, he rubbed his cold nose against her hand. Tezkali let out a low 'sigh'. She could see the crowd parting again, but this time there was the heavy footsteps of steel boots on wood.

Mockrabbit nodded at Tezkali.

"Just wanted to say goodbye before we go off to find Mock's 'master'."

"I 'ave no mast'r, I jus' chose to do w'at she asks of us. We stay healthy t'at way."

Hardkandy patted Ottis on the head. Tezkali stood beside her, " I thank ya for help'in Hardkandy. She tends to attract...interest'in people".

Hardkandy smiled, but didn't say anything.

"Always glad to talk to someone besides 'stinky' back there", Ottis looked up at Mock, "...and she feeds me."

"Keep feast'in an' you'll be slow enough to be someone else's supp'r."

Tezkali chuckled a little, but Hardkandy just kept looking down at Ottis, the same unbroken smile on her face. She was still lightly patting Ottis, but mechanically. She had been in a daze the last day or so, Mock could see it. It reminded Ottis and him of the few times they had been put on watch at the Deathknell. The newly risen tended to have the same blank looks on their decaying faces. They would be in a daze, a fog, for the first few days while they adjusted and accepted what was going on. Hardkandy had the same far away look in her eyes.

Mockrabbit extended his hand to Tezkali, "We best be on an' out. Yurrie is wait'in, so will t'a boss. She is not a big fan o' us at t'a best o' times."

Tezkali shook Mock's hand, "Thanks for keep'in her out of trouble. Tell your Yurrie that we thank her for her help gett'in us here as well."

Mock nodded to Tezkali, and then placed his hand on Hardkandy's shoulder, " We'll 'ave to catch up once we get back from our new post'in. Yurrie tells me it may be a long while.".

When Mock placed his hand on Hardkandy's shoulder she looked up at the her Forsaken friend. She nodded to him, the fog still behind her eyes. Ottis leapt out of Hardkandy's arm and on to Mock's shoulder plate.
" It'll give me time to 'train' him. He'll be walking on his hands when I'm done with him. They might be attached to his knees, but he'll walk on them."

Hardkandy chuckled, and gave Ottis another pat.
" I'll look forward to it" she said with the smile.

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((The following takes place during Hide'n'Seek))


It had been over a month since Yurrie returned to Undercity. She spent most of her time in and around the old ruins of Lordaeron, but it was Brill where she spent her nights. The town was more accommodating to travelers, the living, due to having zeppelin towers on it's outskirts.

A pair of Deathguard sought her at the Inn. They had woken her in the early morning. She was still somewhat groggy, and now annoyed. She buckled on her leathers and placed her pole on her back then opened the door where the two soldiers flanked each side of the opening.
"Luebella requests your assistance, that is if you're 'choosing' to stay in Trisfal".
Yurrie, rubbing her still bandaged arm, nodded at the Forsaken. She arches her back in a stretch and yawns. 
"I am at her service. Lead on".
She followed the guard down the stairs of the Inn. As they walked out into the street she could still see the Forsaken going about their business. Many of the undead never slept as they did not need it to exist. Her conversations with the members of the community revealed to her that some did attempt to sleep, but more often than not it was just out of habit, one they still hadn't broken in undeath. 
Yurrie was learning more and more about these people that had 'escaped' death. This new world she was exposing herself to had many races she had never encountered before, but it is the Forsaken that intrigued her the most. Their state of being perplexed her.
"I suspect neither of you can tell me what Luebella may be needing of me?"
The Deathguard were silent, keeping their steady pace on the path leading from Brill to Undercity. Many of the Forsaken did not trust those of us that were living, it is not that they did not have their reasons though. There are many of the living that don't trust their undead brethren, some even wishing to wipe them from Azeroth. 
She did not pursue her unanswered question further and remained silent as the entered through the gates of old Lordaeron. They crossed the ruined and bustling courtyard towards the empty throne room and the elevators down to Undercity. 

As they made their way towards the Military quarter of the city Yurrie noticed that the Kor'kron patrolling had become fewer in number, and the number of Abomination guards had grown.
It appeared that the new Warchief, the Troll Vol'jin, has extended some 'trust' in the Forsaken to govern themselves. Although Yurrie had not been in Trisfal even a year, she had seen the heavy presence of the Orc Kor'kron guard in Undercity. 
"Maybe the Warchief is trying to sway some trust for the living".
One of the guards let out a low grunt, as if to chuckle.
The Military quarter gates were in view.

Her escort stopped at the gate as Yurrie continued into the quarter. Beaten practice dummies were haphazardly mauled by recruits, the dull sound of wooden practice swords meeting heavily stuffed canvas filled Yurrie's ears as she passed. Across from the worn dummies she glanced to see other Forsaken sparring in small practice circles. Some using the abundant practice weapons placed in racks in the vicinity, others using blades of steel. 
Even though they were undead she still felt strange walking past the sparring rings and not seeing, nor smelling, the once familiar scent of blood that would have normally been common place in her training as a monk. In the place of this there was bits of old leathery flesh scattered sparsely on the ground, and the ever present musty smell of decay that always hung in Undercity air.
Yurrie looked away from the rings and could see the Death Knight, Luebella, walking towards her.


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"I'm glad you decided to stay. Competent mercenaries are a valuable resource". 
Yurrie bowed her head to Luebella.
"Are you aware of the events that have occurred recently?"
Yurrie shook her head 'no'.
Luebella looked at her for a minute, Yurrie could see her disappointment. Luebella stood next to Yurrie, leaning towards here right ear, her voice now a whisper. “ Someone in your profession should be paying more attention to the events taking place around the world, and not just for the pay”.
Luebella leaned back, “You may be paid loyalty, but even paid loyalty has it’s benefits” The death knight took a few steps forward, away from Yurrie. “This way Pandaren, I shall bring you up to speed”.

The two walked out of the quarter and around the canal that encompassed the inner rings of Undercity. 
“ As you know the former Warcheif was to stand trial for his crimes”.
“ Of course, the trial seems to be taking a long time to complete, I still have not heard anyone speak of an official verdict” Yurrie responded.
“ That is because no verdict was given. Garrosh escaped at the trial”. 
Yurrie paused for a moment, this is news she did not expect. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but was cut off by the Forsaken.
“ He did not do this on his own, he had help. He disappeared into a portal and has not been seen since”.
“ It will be difficult to track him down” Yurrie said quickly.
Luebella shook her head from side to side. “No, but that is not why I have called for you. Something of much greater concern has happened since, that Orc will have to wait”.

" That Orc?” Yurrie repeated.
“ Yes, you must keep this information to yourself for the time being; it is spreading quickly, but the longer we can keep it from the majority of the population the better. Do you understand?”. Luebella’s eye sockets had a faint glow of green. 
“ Yes, I understand” Yurrie responded. She had heard rumors of experiments and other horrors the Forsaken practiced, and did not wish to be part of a new 'exploration'.
“ Good”. The glow in her eyes faded. “ I do not know if you have been to the Blasted Lands in the south, but I am sure you are vaguely aware that there is a gate there that linked Azeroth to the Orc home world of Draenor. It is that  gate that not only brought the Orcs to Azeroth, but it has contributed into the shaping of our world”.
Yurrie nodded. “I have done some reading in regard to the gate and the first wars with the Orcs”.
“Good, then you are aware the world on the other side of the gate now is merely a few chunks of land floating in the nether. What remains of the world is slowly dying”.
Yurrie again nodded.
“What you don’t know then is that the portal has turned to the colour of red a couple of weeks ago and brown skinned Orcs have been pouring through with modern Horde weaponry”.
Yurrie looked over to Luebella, their pace still even as they continued walking next to the canal. 
“ An invasion from the wastes of Draenor?”
“No”, Luebella quickly replied, “The Orcs appear to be coming from a ‘different’ Draenor, an alternate version. The Horde and Alliance leaders feel strongly that this is tied to Garrosh’s escape”. Luebella lowered her head. “They made a successful push into the Blasted Lands; but the Horde, working together with the Alliance, have retaken the Blasted Lands. A small army pushed it’s way into the portal from our side, and then managed to close it on other end”.
Yurrie raised an eyebrow, “But, there is still work to be done on this ‘other’ Draenor”. She had a small smirk on her face.
“Yes. We have been able to open small portals, briefly, to this world and have set up an outpost called Warspear on the outskirts of some Orge ruins. I have been selected to go to the outpost and ‘assist’ there. I will require your assistance, and the that my charge... and his pet”. Luebella ground her teeth. “ We may not return to Azeroth”.
Yurrie thought for a moment. She had no ties to anyone, she had chosen to sell her skills as a monk in order to explore the world. Exploring a ‘new’ world would be another new experience away from the Wandering Isle. Beside, she hadn’t had a good fight since she was last sent out with the undead warrior and his ‘talking’ rabbit. She stuck her paw out and shook Luebella’s boney cold hand. “ I am at your service”.

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“Good. I will first require you to go and collect my charge. I am told he was last seen leaving Stonard and heading for Booty Bay with a Blood Elf. Collect him and then meet me in Orgrimmar in one month time. We will travel through a portal with the reinforcements and supplies at that time”. Luebella admired that Yurrie readily accepted her request. The monk may only be a tool for her use, but she was a reliable tool that did as she was told.
Yurrie nodded. “ What are the terms of payment?” she asked.
Luebella reached for a small pouch on her belt and handed it to Yurrie.
“ Consider this a down payment. I can guarantee your supplies when we arrive at War Spear. If we make it back to Azeroth the Apothecary has authorized hefty compensation for you”.
“ I shall return to Brill then and make arrangements to go to Booty Bay this morning”. Yurrie cracked her knuckles, and then bowed her head towards Luebella.
“ One month time, Yurrie”. Lubella nodded and turned back to the military quarter.


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Yurrie sat outside the east zeppelin tower in the gloom of the predawn morning. The ever present Death Guard held their posts around the towers. She could hear them chatting amongst themselves; topics such as the weather, a new sword, reminiscing of favorite foods, and even how one's ear had fallen off the previous day when he had placed his helm on before his shift. Yurrie sat next to the tower wall, sharpening her Halberd. The zeppelin to Grom'gol was set to arrive in the hour. After a day in the air she would arrive in Stranglethorn Vale and then continue south to Booty Bay by wyvern. Including a few days to stop and take in the scenery of the south jungle she planned to be in Ogrimmar in just over three weeks. Plenty of time to prepare for her and her associates venture into this new Draenor.

The sharpening stone made a smooth metallic sound as it moved over the edge of the blade. 

Her thoughts began to turn to this 'alternative' world. How was it possible that another Draenor, a Draenor not directly connected to the reality she has known, could possibly exist; and how could this world from a different reality even reach out and touch this reality? She wracked her mind with this question as she unconsciously kept sharpening her weapon. Was this the doing of the mythical Titans? Why would the Titans want and new war with this Azeroth and that version of Draenor? Were the inhabitants of that Draenor the victors of their war with that Azeroth? Was this to be a pit battle where these ancients of the Nether pitted the victors of wars from different realities against each other over and over again to see which world, in which reality, would be the ultimate warriors of the two realities? But, if there is more than on reality, couldn't there be hundreds, thousands, millions, even infinite realities? If that was the case then the battles would never end. The armies of the countless worlds of the infinite realities would simply battle forever. There would be no victor, ever, only continuous battles forever and ever for the amusement of the Titans. Did Garrosh somehow make a deal with the Titans to finally enter this version of Azeroth into the battle royale? Why Garrosh? Would this Azeroth suddenly be put back into battle if we succeeded in subduing this alternate Draenor? Would they force us to war against an alternate Azeroth? Would I have to fight myself if this happened? Which 'me' would win if there was another me? 

A sharp pain shot through Yurrie's hand. Her sharpening stone lay on the ground and a long cut ran down the middle of her palm. A stream of rich red blood ran down. Yurrie stood up and leaned the weapon against the tower wall. Digging into her pack with her good hand, careful not to dirty it with a drop of blood from her other hand, she scrounged around , all the way to the bottom, and then produced a bandage roll. " The halberd wins I suppose" she said to herself with a small grin. After wrapping her hand, and placing the remainder of the roll back into her pack, she sat back down and picked up the sharpening stone. Placing it between here thumb and finger she stared at it. Maybe only a few hours of sleep combined with the stress and excitement of a possible one-way trip to a new world had gotten to her. She closed her hand around the stone, stood back up, and placed it in a pouch on her belt. "Magic, I'll go with 'magic'". She picked up her pack and her Halberd. She could see the zeppelin approach from the distance.

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"Welcome to Grom'gol! Watch yir step when disembark'in the zeppelin, and don't firget to thank the captain. A crash free flight is always a good flight!" the co-captain exclaimed loudly as the zeppelin docked at the Grom'gol tower. The flight had not been a full one. A few goblin merchants with cloth and ore to trade at the outpost. A small group consisting of four tauren and a couple of trolls traveling from Kalimdor to take part in an archaeological exploration at the old ruins of Zul'gurub. It had been a uneventful trip. the only excitement came from conversation, and playing dice with the Goblin merchants, and one of the trolls. Yurrie had come out with five gold less. The meals served on the duration of the flight had been 'sketchy' at best, the seats and cots had been uncomfortable; not one of the passengers enjoyed more than a restless nap on their journey. As Yurrie disembarked the old zeppelin she nodded to the co-captain and then shook the captain's hand. 

They had arrived early in the afternoon. The sun hung high in the sky, and the air was hot and humid. From the top of the zeppelin tower she could see the vast jungles to the north and east, while the waters from bay to the south and sea to the east greeted her with a cool breeze. The outpost below her was bustling with merchants, tourists, hunters and those hoping to find lost information or treasure in the ruin rich jungles.

She ventured down the tower and walked into the center of the outpost; looking around her to spot the inn. She had decided to stay the evening here and then hire a wyvern to take her to Booty Bay in the next day or two. The main inhabitants of the town appeared to be orcs, as they out numbered everyone else there. She had stopped an orc guard who pointed her in the direction of the inn. 

The inn was full, and as such Yurrie was 'lucky' that a bed opened up; only after she had offered to pay double the rate, and for two nights. Delaying her 'mission' to Booty Bay by a couple of days would be good she decided. A nice break before she continued on. Maybe the last time she would have a chance to enjoy this part or Azeroth. 

Once her room was settled, and gear stowed away under lock and key, Yurrie wandered out on to the street. The outpost wasn't overly large, and there were merchants selling their wares from small stalls all around. She found a cook serving crab meat out on the beach outside the outpost walls. It was the best she had eaten in a long while, and the grog the orc was also selling wasn't too bitter. It still didn't have the sweet taste or 'kick' she had enjoyed while she had been in Pandaria, but it was good for an orc brew.

She walked down the beach on the bay to a deserted spot, unbuckled her leather armor and then lay there in the sun. The sound of the breeze and the waves lulled her into a brief sleep, the warm sun her blanket.

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The time had passed by quickly, and for once uneventfully. Yurrie spent most of her time lounging on the beach, eating, and of course drinking. It had been awhile since she was able to sit in a full pub with music playing in the background, and loud ecstatic conversation filling the rest of the air. 

The evening of the day she arrived Yurrie had befriended an Orc guard named Garjira that had the night off, and a Tauren laborer that went by the name 'Stone Horn'. While drinking at the inn their conversation turned to jesting, and then, after some prodding, to competition. They started with an arm wrestling contest. The large 'Stone Horn' quickly bested both of his adversaries, and gloated as he did. He had no problem downing his grog while hammering Yurrie and Garjira's hands into the wooden table. " HA-HA-HA! You two should be fighting for second place. *buuuuuuurrrppp*. Never forget THE STRENGTH OF THE TAUREN, BAH-HA-HA!". 

And so they did. This actually turned out to be a competition as both Yurrie and Garjira stayed deadlocked for the first few seconds; then, slowly, Yurrie started to gain ground. She flashed a grin at Garjira as she continued to lower her hand to the table. Even Stone Horn had become quiet as he watched. This was it, Garjira's had a warrior's look of defeat on her face as her hand inched ever closer to defeat. Yurrie's grin widened, and she looked Garjira in the eye, "I suppose the Pandaren will have to be happy with second place" she said with some competitive smugness.
Garjira looked Yurie dead in the eyes, and then smiled, her hand was an inch from the table top. "I'm sorry" she said in an almost evil tone. Just as she was about to lose she torked her shoulder, quickly adjusted her grip, and then pushed back, hard. In a matter of three or four seconds Yurrie was now struggling to have her hand stay up, but it was no use. Garjira forced her hand to the table. "This Orc will settle with taking second place for now". Stone Horn bellowed loudly, and Garjira followed him with a chuckle. Yurries pride has bruised, but a few pints later and it had healed. 

Stone Horn was there the next evening and the two of them shared drinks and stories. Garjira was on duty that night, but did stop in to make sure there were no friendly competitions going on, and to remind Yurrie that she'd hate to have to 'crush' her again.

Yurrie was up early on her last day at the inn; hangover or not, it was time for her to move on to Booty Bay.

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'I'm sorry my friend, but I was told it was a 2 gold flight to get here from Grom'gol, and that is all I am willing to pay". Yurrie forced the two coins into the flight masters hand, and walked away as he continued to haggle her for a few extra silver. 
She stopped for a moment to look out over the bay a short distance away. The sea breeze continued to be refreshing, even between the whiffs of fish that came with it. "Now, where to start?" she said softly to herself, not that she didn't know. The Inns would be her first stop, as well as some friendly conversation with the local guards. It wouldn't be to hard to locate the Forsaken and his 'pet', one tends to take notice when a corpse seems to be having a conversation with a rabbit.
Surveying the area again before she moved she could see there was a commotion on the water. Some small boats seemed to be searching for something in the bay, and a group of guards were heading down one side of the dock. "Well, that was easy" she said, shaking her head from side to side.

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((The following picks up after the events of Fetch and Hide'n'Seek))


The Cleft of Shadow was sparsely populated. Warlocks had started to return to the cavern since Garrosh's fortress had been cleared out. The warlocks typically found in the cleft had been removed or killed by the former Warcheif's 'True Horde'. Warlocks reminded him of the faults of Orc history, a history he would have liked to erase. 

Luebella sat inside a hut behind a small table. A few candles flickered inside providing a little light. She held a long piece of parchment in her hands, and was pouring over the contents of the document. Another Forsaken across the table from her stood, tapping his fingers across the flat wooden surface. Luebella rolled the scroll up, and looked up to her company across the table.

"Our assets could have been more thorough. Reports of Orc warlocks does not come as a surprise". 

The undead stopped tapping his fingers on the table, and crossed his robed arms. 
Luebella rose from her chair, scroll in hand. 

"It is also no surprise that True Horde weaponry is being used, considering Garrosh is on Draenor. Are you here to confirm I am being sent into a meat grinder?"

The Forsaken smiled as best he could, considering he had no lips.

"It's been some time since you've seen action Luebella. Don't tell me you've become...soft".

Luebella leaned across the table, looking the messenger in the eyes.

"Soft? No, I think not". She leaned in a little closer, placing one of her hands on the table to steady herself. 
"Rusty? Well, I do admit training in the War Quarter is not the same as battering an enemy in the field. Perhaps you'd like to help me with some more 'lively' sparing before I depart? "

The robed Forsaken chuckled."I don't think I would be of much service if I were split in two, old friend".

Luebella straightened herself back up. If she could smile she would have then, but the flesh on the lower part of her face had given way to bone some time ago. "Perhaps when I return then, old friend". Luebella held the scroll over a candle flame, the edge of it catching fire. She looked down at the burning document, the flames on the parchment quickly danced towards her boney fingers. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"Only that I am instructed to tell you that you are not to return until the enemy is defeated on Draenor, or unless you are able to acquire something that may be of significant use to us". 

Luebella placed the burning scroll on the table. The flames licked upward, the light giving the undead faces an even more grim look than usual. A goblin could be seen walking towards the hut with the hurried pace of one not wanting be long in the darkness of the Cleft. 
She walked round the side of the table and stood next to her 'friend'. "And what of your own personal requests? You didn't come here to inform me of what I already know. What is it that you require?". 

"If you happen to find anything that might 'help' an old warlock improve upon his mastery of fel magic, I suppose that would be worth a significant personal favor". 

"I suppose it would", Luebella agreed as the Goblin entered the hut.

Nervously the goblin stood in front of the two undead, spitting out his message as quickly as he could.

"Sorry for tha interruption, b-but the zeppelin from Brill arrived and your guests were on board, so I came here straight away to tell you just like you, er, asked". There was beads of sweat building on his broad forehead. 

Lubella gave him the slightest of nods and raised her hand to shoo him away. The goblin turned and quickly walked out of the hut. The quick walk had turned into a full run by the time he was a dozen or so feet away.

Lubella placed her hand down on the remnants of the scroll, snuffing out the remainder of the dwindling flames. 

" We shall be departing for Draenor through the next portal with the reinforcements and supplies", Luebella said before saluting the Forsaken. He, in turn, saluting her. 

"Until next we meet" she said as she walked out of the hut.

'If' we meet again, old friend", he replied as she walked away.

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She had know the warlock for some time. They met after the Ebon Blade rebelled against the Lich King. Luebella had been posted at Vengeance Landing on the coast of the Howling Fjord to assist the Forsaken at the outpost. The warlock had been with her throughout the campaign in Northrend. They had been paired upon her arrival, as he refused to waste his time with the 'weak', and she did not see weakness in the warlock. Together they had killed Scourge, Vrykul, and Alliance. They eventually made their way through Venomspite, Ebon Watch, and finally battling the Lich King's forces at the stairs of Icecrown Citadel. 

Mikkeh had come to the north to hone his fel magic. Power was what he yearned for, power to ensure the Forsaken would never fall. Power so he would never fall. His loyalty to his own, and the constant search to make himself stronger. Luebella admired that about him. She too yearned to become stronger, be it through her abilities as a Death Knight, or through rank and holdings, power would ensure she would last. 

After the Lich King fell Luebella swore her services to the Forsaken. The Ebon Blade had no real direction after their enemy was dead, and Luebella felt the strong community the Forsaken fostered with their own kind. Mikkeh would help her rise in the Forsaken ranks quickly, and she in turn assisted him in his studies where she could. Together they grew, and so did their influence. 

Luebella walked out of the tunnel of the cleft and into the sunlight beating down on Orgrimmar. The street was crowded, but a small bubble of space cleared around her as she made her way through. 

It had been Mikkeh's influence that had brought Mockrabbit, and the rodent, into her care. She would have thought it a poor joke, something to try her patience, but Mikkeh would not waste her time in such ways. They had more respect for each other than that. The charge was an annoyance, and the mystery of the rabbit perplexed her, but Mikkeh noticed something in the pair that warranted them coming into her care. 

The elevator came to a stop and Luebella disembarked. The zeppelin towers were crowded. Luebella would not waste her time pushing through more crowds. Yurrie and Mockrabbit would come to her. She had ordered this to Yurrie back in Undercity. She crossed her arms and then stood motionless near the elevator, in sight of the towers.

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Ottis was fidgeting on Mock's shoulders, scurrying from one shoulder plate to the other as they and Yurrie slowly surged through the disembarking crowd. The flight had been long, and there is only so much that could keep the rabbit entertained on the enclosed airship. For the time being staring at the faces in the crowds of the zeppelin tower was enough to occupy him.

"Smells like a barn in here" Ottis said loudly as Yurrie and Mock pushed past a couple of Tauren moving down the tower stairs. They had also heard. One snorted and the other eyed Mock and the white long-ear that was staring back at him as they quickly descended the stairs.

"Ya best git it our now befir we find Luebella. It's gonna be a long trip I bet", Mock turned to Yurrie. She gave him a nod. "I suspect we will be gone for some time. It is unfortunate I do not negotiate my contracts by the hour. I might buy Brill otherwise, turn the inn into a brew house". She smiled at Mock as he chuckled at the thought.

When the trio stepped outside the door of the tower a goblin stepped in front of them, almost being knocked over by Mockrabbit who had been looking up at the wyvern patrol in the sky over Orgrimmar.

"HEY, WATCH IT!" he yelled at the corpse as he hopped out of Mock's path. "L-Luebella is wait'in for you two. You best get down to the Cleft. Sh-she means now!", he stuttered a little each time he mentioned her. Ottis looked down at the goblin's head, a large bead of sweat had formed and was slowly moving down the side of his face.

"A little short to be mouth'in off arn't ya?". Mock and Yurrie both turned and looked at the rabbit now standing up on the undead's shoulders. The goblin looked up at Mock and Ottis, slightly confused by the look on his face, "...wha...? y..ou?". He shook his head, the look on his face gone. "You're not a parrot", he grinned, " but I could still stuff ya with crackers, maybe a carrot or two, and have a nice little bbq tonight", the messenger lifted his nose in the air and took a big sniff of the air, "...if ya didn't smell like a stock yard". 

Ottis coiled up quickly, a flash of red came across his eyes. "BLOODY NIBBLES!" he roared as he pounced at the goblin....only to be caught midair in Yurrie's paw. She was doing her best not laugh at Ottis. Mock, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered to keep his raspy laughter quiet. The goblin was still confused about the rabbit 'speaking', but had a snarky smile on his face now as he stared at the struggling rabbit trying to break free of the monk's grasp. 

Yurrie and Mock walked past the messenger, Mock still laughing as they headed towards the elevators. Ottis had stopped trying to struggle against Yurrie, "He better not be here when we get back. I'll have my vengeance!". "You'll 'ave to wait until Yur'ie 'ere is gone, when yir baby sit'er is gone ya may git to 'ave yir 'bloody nibbles'". Mock started laughing again. Yurrie snickered and patted Ottis on his head. The rabbit was hanging limply, and disappointed from her arm.
" I hope your jaw falls off."

Yurrie's smile and Mock's laughter quickly disappeared as they approached the elevators. Luebella took a step forward as Mockrabbit saluted her.

She nodded at Yurrie, and then to her charge. "I hope your excursion was enjoyable. We cross the portal tomorrow at first light". She looked down at Ottis who was still hanging in Yurrie's arm like a rag doll. "I hope you're ready for a war..." she looked into Mock's eye sockets, " the 'bloody nibbles' for the enemy". She stepped back. Yurrie was slightly puzzled at Luebella's attempt at being lighthearted. It felt uncomfortable...forced.

"Yurrie, I have made arrangements for you to stay in the barracks this evening", she tossed the merc a small pouch, "this is for your 'enjoyment' this evening". Yurrie caught the pouch, it jingled in her paw. 

"You two will accompany me in the Cleft this evening, I require a guard while I review my notes before we depart".
Mock nodded, and Ottis let our a low, sad 'squeek'.

Edited by mockrabbit

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Mock stood outside of the hut that Luebella was in. It was hard to tell the time in the cleft, it was always dark except for the lit torches, brazers, and a few fires. Here it could always be 'night'. 


Mock was working on shaping some wild jade that he had been holding onto for some time. It wasn't often that he took time to cut gems, but he was surprisingly good at it. A remnant from his life before undeath.


The dim torch light was making it difficult for him to see, but he had nothing else to do. Ottis was curled up by a fire the next hut over and sleeping. Luebella was lost in here scrolls. Besides, interrupting her would often lead to a lecture, or a very unpleasant posting for the day, or maybe the legendary wrath of the Death Knights that he had heard so much about. 

"T'at'll do it" Mock said as he reached in to a pouch on the side of his belt. He dropped a tool in, and then his fingers fumbled through it for a minute as he searched for something else. A small piece of cloth was produced, and was used to clean the stone.

It wasn't just gem cutting that he took an inkling to, he was somewhat of a skilled jeweler. Nothing of overly high quality, or finely intricate, bone fingers and a warrior's hand limited what he was able to make, but unique jewelry none the less. He had a small collection of rings, chains, necklaces, and cut stones under lock in his room at Brill.

Mock held up the gem next to a torch by the hut door, holding it between his forefinger and thumb. Light from the flame gave the jade a brilliant glow. "P'rfect". 

Normally he didn't have to think about what he was doing when working at his craft. His hands knew what to do. Sketching out designs for more ornate pieces took a little time, but his drawings for the design looked like they were created by those of a master of craftsmen. Crafting is one of the few times he felt completely content.

He carefully wrapped the gem in the cloth used to polish it, and placed it back in the pouch with his tools. He looked over to the sleeping rabbit. Earlier Ottis had gone over to the fire to beg an orc for something to eat. Shooing Ottis away didn't work, neither did taking a missed kick at the rabbit. A thrown stone, a swipe with a walking stick, and threats of putting the rabbit over the fire did not weaken his resolve. After some more cursing, and thrown objects, the orc gave in and gave Ottis some of the broth he had been eating earlier in the hut. It wasn't what he was expecting, but Ottis quickly finished off what was left in the bowl before curling up next to the orc's fire and falling asleep. The orc looked over to Mock. All he could do was shrug his shoulders.

Luebella was muttering to herself as she flipped through some pages. Mock guessed that their role across the portal would be a strictly combat one. Looking in from the door Mock could see some scout reports scattered about, and a few maps. The rest he didn't recognize at a glance, but it looked like they would be meeting the orcs through the portal on the front lines. Another day in the trench. 

Mock stretched his arms down away from his body and arched his back. The loud cracking of ligaments and bone echoed in the area around the hut. Ottis seemed to be dreaming, one of his hind legs tearing at something in his mind.

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It was early, but the morning sun was already beating down on Yurrie's throbbing head. She had spent the evening drinking. She woke in the barrack bunk Lubella had arranged for her still in her leathers and with her good eye throbbing. She could barely keep it open, and stumbled out of her bunk as she tried to regain her barrings. One of the guards that helped haul her in last night laughed and said it was a game of 'chicken' that had gotten a little out of hand.
She couldn't remember exactly what had happened most of the evening, but flashes of groping an orc while others cheered from behind her, an then she was looking up at a ceiling. It looked like the orc was holding another back that was screaming at Yurrie. The orc's wife was not pleased with her. 
Her head was on fire, and her face ached as she made her way through the gathering crowd of soldiers, merchants and supply carts. No matter what happened next she had enjoyed her short stay in least that is the conclusion she drew for herself. 
Luebella, Mock and Ottis were near the middle of the waiting formation. As she walked towards them Mock nodded to greet her, and Ottis kept pacing in circles around his feet.
Luebella turned her gaze towards her. Her hood, as always, was casting a dark shadow over her face, and her eyes glowed softly. "You're late" she said in a stern voice. Luebella looked over Yurrie slowly. "I see you enjoyed yourself", Luebella was looking at Yurrie's eye,"I hope you have that out of your system". Yurrie nodded, not saying anything.

Yurrie went through her pack one more time, double checking her supplies, and few personal items she had kept with her since leaving the Wandering Isle. Mock and Ottis bickered with each other as Luebella addressed some Forsaken soldiers that were nearby.
A horn trumpeted loudly, and the crowd fell silent. Ottis stood on his hind legs with ears up. Luebella walked out in front of Yurrie and Mockrabbit.
"It's time. You two will follow me through. Make sure you don't loose that furball".
Mock stooped over and scooped up Ottis, covering the rabbits mouth as muffled noises struggled to escape from Mocks slack jaw.
Yurrie looked to the front of the forces, a red portal had been opened, just large enough for two of the supply carts to pass through side by side. A long line formed, and steadily the gathering disappeared through. 
As she walked to the edge of the portal Yurrie felt the same excitement and anxiety she had felt when she left the isle. If only the hammering in her head would stop.

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Little time was wasted when the group crossed the portal and stepped foot on Dreanor. They arrived on a small island called Ashran, at the aptly named Warspear; the Horde base of operations. Both the Horde and Alliance had setup bases for operations in the area, on opposite sides of the island of course. Even though this Iron Horde threatened all of Azeroth, the 'old fences' still stood in the dealings of Azeroth's native and adopted races. In the Forsaken camp at Warspear Luebella was told that the factions were racing to uncover artifacts on the island. Apparently it had been the site of an Orge empire. Secrets of the old empire, and objects with some magical power, had been found throughout the area. Skirmishes had broken out around the island, each one over control for the archaeological finds that may lay in the ruins. Although the secrets on the grounds peaked Luebella's attention, that was not why she was sent to Dreanor.

They made their way to where the Apothecary had set up. Mock, Ottis, and Yurrie waited as Luebella went on to receive her orders. There was movement everywhere; soldiers, mercenaries, merchants, engineers, workers, explorers, healers...and those that took care of the dead. Some came to the land for their King, some for their Warchief. Others came to protect their home, to make a quick profit, to discover a new land, to see a world they had only heard of in the stories of aging elders. A few came for vengeance, a chance to kill. Many that crossed the portal had come to die.
Ottis's head darted back and forth with the constant stream of commotion. He watched the various expressions on the faces that passed. His ears strained to try and hear one of the many conversations that walked by, but could only catch short fragments from the surrounding crowd. More than anything he searched the hands of the crowd hoping for a morsel of something to fall close enough to him to snatch. 

"Just like the vale" Yurrie commented to herself. This place reminded her of the increased presence of the Horde and Alliance forces back in Pandaria after the former Warchief, Garrosh, had all but destroyed the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. "I don' see any G'ummies..." Mock said, turning his head side to side,"... or any lu'kydos". Yurrie put her hand on his shoulder, "I cannot say that I do either" she remarked.

Yurrie could hear the heavy steps of plated boots, and the shuffle of a ghoul from behind her. "Alright, we will be going to Nagrand to support a Horde outpost there. The place is infested with Iron Horde and Orges, but gains have been made in rooting them out". Luebella stopped in front of the two, facing them. The ghoul stayed close to its master. "We have a strong foot hold in the area now, and with the Alliance pushing in on their own front we are in good position to begin assaulting the fortifications in the area". 

"..'nd w'at r' we do'in t'ere? corpse wall fir t'a breath'rs?". Mock didn't sound impressed. 
"Finally a job you can handle", Ottis was looking up Mock...and ducked in time to avoid a half kick the undead aimed in the rabbits general direction.

Lubella stared blankly at Mock. "That's all you need to know. You two will go and secure our transportation with the flight master, we depart in two hours. I will be there after I attend to some other business". With that Luebella quickly turned and started off into the passing crowds; the ghoul quickly behind her.

" Must be important" Yurrie remarked to Mock as she picked up her pack; Mock scooped up Ottis at the same time. "Al'ays is wi't 'er" Mock said as they stepped into the street and merged with the crowd.

Edited by mockrabbit
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Smoke rose up into the clear sky. The village on the river, an Iron Horde garrison had very recently be routed from it. Luebella, Yurrie, and Mock approached on foot, listening to the forces regrouping outside of the village. A group of Orcs and Trolls sat by a cooking fire, talk about a surrender in the village. An Orc faces the ground and shakes her head, "I knew we couldn't trust them" she says. A little further down the road a Dwarf and Night Elf were conversing. Mock and Yurrie couldn't make sense of what they were saying. Lubella, at the lead of the small group, quickly stopped and turned to face the stumpy warrior and the tall stick with feathered leather garb. Yurrie crossed her arms, and Mock cracked his knuckles. Ottis, perched on Mock's shoulder plate let out a small squeaky yawn. The stare down was brief, but the Elf said something to the Dwarf, and they both turned and walked further away from the road to a large tent in the Alliance camp.
Mock and Yurrie moved up to Luebella's sides. "W'at was t'at a'out?", Mock asked, his jaw clicking a little.
Luebella began her pace again towards the village. "Our 'partners' in war didn't like the 'smell' coming down the road".
Mock grunted, " 'Uess t'a Pan'aren smell worse t'an I t'ought".
A large balled fist struck Mock on his arm, almost knocking him on his side. Ottis leapt from his shoulder over onto Yurrie's. Mock quickly moved back to Luebella's side, chuckling in his raspy voice. Yurrie had a slight grin.
Luebella just kept moving forward along the road. Had this been another setting, a different circumstance, she would have not let them walk away.
The conversations along the road grew louder as more forces were crowded on the bank of the river as they grew closer to the village. Some Horde and Alliance forces did mingle here. Comradery formed in the battles at the village, and across Draenor, trades being made for food and other supplies, even some drinks for those off duty. Yurrie, in particular, had a longing glance as the three of them passed by an exceptionally large Tauren slop some of his drink on the ground. His bellowing laughter caused by his drunk Gnome friend that was convinced he could win their drinking contest. Yurrie had only been on Draenor for a little over a week, but she already missed a good and stout ale.
As they neared the bridge leading across the river into the village a Draenei covered in heavy ornamental plate stopped trio.
"Soldiers are to remain outside Lok-rath until further notified" he said in his stern voice.
Not looking up Luebella reached down into a small black pouch she had on her belt, and produced a folded piece of parchment. She extended it to the guard, who snatched it from her hand. Opening it he glanced down at the letter and then at Luebella. "You can find him in the main hall", he said. With that Luebella grabbed the parchment from the guards hand, tucked it back into the black pouch, and began walking across the bridge.
As Yurrie, Mock and Ottis followed the Draenei followed them with his eyes.
Mock and Ottis paid him no mind, but Yurrie turned her head as they were almost across the bridge. He was still watching them as he spit on to the ground.
Edited by mockrabbit

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Luebella led the way through the large door into the hall. It was now being used by the the allied Horde and Alliance forces as a base of operations in the area. Bickering could be heard at the large central table about how best to press an attack at the Orge strong hold city of Highmaul. Around the fringes of the room additional tables were set up, and further planning of the invasion of Nagrand was underway. Mockrabbit and Yurrie didn't know who they were meeting here, but as they followed Lubella around the room they overheard snippets about how supply routes would be planned, where to house newly acquired prisoners, why weren't the latrines made further away from the river, a debate of sending scouts further north to investigate something called 'The Ring of Blood'.
Ottis was still on Yurrie's shoulder, his head darting from side to side, taking in the view of the 'higher ups'. As they walked towards a table at the back of the hall no one paid them too much attention in here, even as Mock bumped into a rather large, and battle worn, Orc who was discussing news with a Draenei priest about the assault on BlackRock Foundry. The Orc only grunted, but the Draenei gave Mock a breif curious glance...that turned into concern as she also noticed another Death Knight in the hall.
"She must be a native Draenei, she doesn't seem to have seen to many...Forsaken" Yurrie said.
"Or a Deaf 'ight. T'ose w'it the lig't don't tend ta git along to well wi't t'a dead".
"Let's see if she wants to heal Luebella. Imagine the light show!". Ottis ran to Yurrie's opposite shoulder.
The group at the back table dissipated as Lubella and her guards approached. A large grey skinned human in ebony plate remained at the back of the table. He had a short sword sheathed on either side of his metal belt. His plate had been cast with skulls merging on together through the spike on his shoulders, a similar pattern graced his gauntlets. His belt buckle was a fanged skull. His helm rested on the table next to him; it was also forged into the shape of a skull with two more on either side of the front. His eyes had a continuous blue glow.
Yurrie and Mock stopped on either side of Luebella. Ottis's ears fell flat against his back.
" Think she's here for a performance review?" Ottis whispered in Yurrie's ear. Mock glanced over and slowly shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. Shut up Ottis..." the rabbit whispered again.
Lubella saluted the other Death Knight, "We're a day early" she said sternly. She reached up and lowered her black hood, exposing her decayed face. Her charcoal hair rested around her neck and shoulders. She handed the Death Knight the parchment from her belt.
The Death Knight took it and quickly read it over. "...or a day late, from my point of view". Lubella didn't flinch, she knew what he had meant. A death Knight was at home on a battle field, and they had not been there for the taking of the village.
He looked over Lubella's two companions, and pet. "Not  many of the Ebon Hand, or Forsaken, are here. You'll do well to keep to yourselves, unless otherwise instructed".
He then looked over Yurrie, "Why the Pandaren?".
"This is Yurrie, from the Wandering Isle. A very capable and loyal mercenary I have had under employ at Undercity. She can go to places and not raise as much suspicion as sending the bag of bones on my other side tends to do".
Mock gave a slight nod.
The Death Knight stood and stared silently for a moment, "...indeed".
"The bag of bones is Mockrabbit, a capable warrior under my charge. The rabbit is also his...".
The Death Knight crossed his arms, "The Apothecary seems to have a sense of humor" he said sternly. He unfolded his arms and placed his hands on the table. "My name is Graite, of the Ebon Blade, and you'll be taking your orders from me".
Ottis perked his ears up,his eyes wide. Mock quickly grabbed him from off of Yurrie's shoulder and cover the rabbits mouth.
Graite paid no mind, and continued. "There is to be an assault on the Orge city of Highmaul to the west tomorrow. They are pushing now so the Orges won't have enough time to put together a stronger defense. We will be departing with the armies. We will assist when and where needed...". He leaned in closer to the trio "...but we have our own goal".
Edited by mockrabbit
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The combined forces of the Horde and Alliance set out for Highmaul later that night hoping to use the darkness to hide their numbers. By first light the next day they had setup a command post outside the city gates, had siege weapons bombarding the city walls and gate, and archers firing at anyone brave enough to put their head, or heads, up to survey the enemy. It was a few hours before the sun would hang high in the sky that the allied main force shattered the city gate, as a smaller group had gained access to the city earlier creating a distraction. Inside the invading army and defending ogres clashed in a bloody mix of metal, stone, and magic. Even with what appeared to be superior numbers, the invaders where having a tough time with the larger inhabitants. The ogres could cleave, crush, or pull apart some of the smaller soldiers in a single motion. Small mounds of the dead dotted the battle field, usually a fallen defender and the corpses of those that eventually brought it down. 

Graite, Lubella, Yurrie, Mock and Ottis were in the third wave of soldiers to enter the city. The first two waves had secured the inner gate and had been handling opposition allowing the next waves to secure the entrance to the Gorthenon which had already been assaulted by the smaller force that had entered the city first. On the way Luebella and Graite charged ahead, slashing at ogre defenders already engaged, cleaving the wounded with precise deathblows, and working as one when any enemy dared to stand in their way. A lower ogre magi, with two heads, tried to stop their progress at the stairs leading up to the Gorthenon. Before he could get a word out Lubella had choked one head with her dark powers while Graite leapt up with unnatural strength and removed the other head in a single stroke.

Yurrie and Mock trailed the two death knights, being sure that no one would attempt a back attack on their fierce commanders. The death knights are very efficient in the art of war and killing. Mainly, Yurrie and Mock just tried to keep up to them, Ottis clinging to Mock's shoulder plate, constantly looking behind them for any surprises. As the Death Knights had finished off the orge magi and started moving up the steps, a loud roar could be heard off to the south. Yurrie stopped and looked down a short road in that direction. An orc warrior and orgre guard were locked in hand-to-hand combat, their weapons on the ground around their own personal arena. The orge was winning. Yurrie watched it lift the orc off his feet by his neck. Raspy gasps sputtered, struggling to leave his lips.

Mock had already began to charge at the orge, Yurrie close behind. The orge turned his head as Mock raised one of his large spiked maces over his head. Ottis jumped from the shoulder plate, pouncing on the orges arms, and assaulting one of it's wrists with bloody nibbles. Blood erupted from the orc's lips, spattering the orges face as he loosened his grip to defend against the corpse and the rabbit. Yurrie did not draw her halberd, only balled her fist and flew threw the air. Mock's mace struck the orge heavily on the shoulder, narrowly missing it's head, but shattering bone and crushing the tissue. The orc fell to the ground, clutching his throat, trying to suck in air as more blood spayed from his laboured coughing. The orge howled in pain as he fell to a knee. Ottis was now on the ground next the liberated orc, ready to pounce again. Before Mock could raise his mace again for a killing blow the orge's howling stopped. In what seemed like a strong breeze, followed by a loud 'knock' as Yurrie struck the orge hard in the face. In the next moment she placed her paws on either side of it's head, and with a quick movement put the orge down with a 'snap'. The heavy body fell to the ground with a a hard 'thud' before the orc. The orc's coughing and sputtering had stopped. Mock picked up what he assumed was the orc's axe. Yurrie rolled the warrior onto his back, and Mock rested the axe across his chest. 

A brief moment of stillness passed. It was Ottis that scrambled back onto Mock's shoulders that shook the warrior and monk back into their situation. The sounds of war rang throughout the city. Turning back down the street they hurried up towards the stairs of Gorthenon.

Edited by mockrabbit

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