[Mockrabbit]

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, "...save 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'.

[Mockrabbit]

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'.

"C'mon....almost...."

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 un-death.

"Car'ful...car'ful..."

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.

[Yurrie]

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 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 Orgimmar...at 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.

[Yurrie]

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 archeological 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 merges with the crowd.

[Mockrabbit]

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 the 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.

[Mockrabbit]

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 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 here 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 hi 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. The 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".