Alsius checked his map for the fifth time, shaking his head again. It had to be here. There were few other places it could have been, after all. The Barrens was a dry, empty wasteland, devoid of landmarks for miles at a time. To find a different oasis with a massive, subterranean tunnel seemed far too unlikely. This had to be the spot - and yet he was alone.

He scowled, rotating his shoulders. He hoped they would arrive soon. The beating sun was not friendly on a death knight's skin, the heavy plate he wore only adding to the discomfort. Alsius began to wonder if perhaps his party had gotten lost along the way. As an orc, he knew he could manage the heat, unflinching from duty and willing to suffer for the good of the Horde. As for the rest of the war party, that was yet to be seen. All he knew was it would take a strong-bodied soul to find their way here.

Finally, in the distance, a traveller approached, but not one he expected. Body covered in fur and clad in cloth the colours of the desert sands, the figure stood hardly half the orc's height and a fraction of his weight. Alsius gripped his axe, but not out of fear. Instead, he held it lazily in his hands, almost wishing the creature to attack him so he'd have something to drain of life and replenish his weary body.

Yet, the traveller did approach after all. Alsius shook his head in disbelief; did the small creature wish to die?

"You must be Alsius!" she called out to him. "Myraah, reporting for duty! Beautiful day to serve the Horde, is it not? I do love these 'Barrens' as you orcs call them, although they're not nearly as barren as the deserts I hail from. This place feels brimming with life when compared to Vol'dun."

Alsius lowered his axe and looked at his map again. On it were scrawled four names - one of which was 'Myraah'. They said they were sending a priest, skilled in both shadow and healing magic. Nowhere did his commander mention the newcomer was the size of a somewhat hearty lunch. "A Vulpera," he muttered.

"Indeed," she said with a bow, removing the hood of her cloak to show fur the colour of the desert itself, "and ready to serve the Horde as always! The Horde helped my people, and I am determined to return the favour through any means - including, of course, clearing this cave of miscreants."

"How..." he muttered.

"How? Through the power of shadow and -"

"No," the death knight interrupted. "How has the Horde changed so greatly in so short a time?" He remembered when trolls were added to the Orcish Horde in the second war. It seemed strange then. When they brought the undead into their ranks, for all their oddities he acknowledged they had a respectable temperament in regards to slaughtering humans. And at least the Tauren were big...

Alsius regretted the thought the very next moment when another recruit came walking - stumbling - in. He was big as well. Larger than Alsius, certainly. The barrel he held on his back would be more than enough to serve as a swimming pool for the diminutive Myraah. Each step looked uncertain as he came forward with a frothy mug of ale spilling over the sides. Before he even greeted the leader of the expedition, he raced over to the oasis with surprising grace, drank half of the liquid from the mug, and dipped it into the water. Taking another huge swig, he tilted his head to the side, thought for a moment, and said, "Good - but needs more barley."

The death knight checked the list of names again. "You must be Baoshii..." He grimaced. "Baoshii Tumblebelly. Pandaren Brewmaster." His dead, blue eyes looked up from beneath his dark red hair. "It is not wise to drink before entering such a place as this."

The Pandaren laughed heartily, his bellow ending in a burp. "More dangerous not to."

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"I haven't had a touch of alcohol, commander!" the Vulpera said with a salute.

"Care to change that?" Tumblebelly asked, a massive smile across his chubby, friendly face. "Always willing to share!"

Before she had a chance to answer, the fourth member of the party arrived. A blood elf, clad in the armour of Silvermoon's Blood Knights, entered the oasis - very carefully. Never had Alsius seen someone in full plate walk with such trepidation. But it didn't seem so much out of fear, rather than simply not wishing to dirty her armour. She stepped forward to Alsius delicately, finding the driest spots of land. "Greetings to my..." she looked at the other two before looking back at the death knight. "I'm going to assume commander. I am Yrella Dawn of Silvermoon," she said taking off her helmet to reveal vivid red hair that closely resembled the bright colours of her homeland. She was thin, but carried herself with admirable strength. "I'm here to assist in cleansing this... wasteland," she said with distaste.

Myraah shook her head knowingly. "We're greatly underestimating what a wasteland is."

"Hmm." The blood elf inspected the three. "I can heal the Pandaren. Even the little one, if she survives long enough to let

me. But how I heal the dead, I'm not yet sure."

"Have you tried to think after a brew?" Tumblebelly suggested. "Always makes my world a little more clear. And a little more hazy..."

Once more, there wasn't enough time to answer, and likely for the best this time. The fifth and final member of the party had arrived. Another Pandaren, she walked up to Alsius with pride, but immediately became distracted by a vivid purple plant just behind him. She walked right past the leader of the party, bumping his shoulder slightly which caused him to scowl all the deeper. Kneeling down, she looked closely at the unfamiliar foliage. "Smells delicious," she said with a smile. "But will it brew?"

"For ale?" Tumblebelly asked her as the others watched in confused silence, unsure if this was customary for the Pandaren people or if these were indeed just strange members of their race.

"No," she said, picking a leaf delicately but promptly crushing it in her palm anyway. "For tea! Not all brewmasters make ale, you know." Baoshii noticed that where he had a giant keg strapped to his back, she had a tremendous number of teapots of various sizes and colours, ranging from the ornate to a kind that one would expect a trogg to find unappealing. "It's why I'm here - to find ingredients!"

"That's why you're here..." Alsius growled. "Shalai, I presume?" he said, checking his list.

"Of course. The strange and exotic, the fruity, the earthy! That's what brings me here. And, as we all surely know, the best ingredients are ingredients that have been earned." She saw Baoshii nod his approval as she peered into the foreboding depths of the caverns. If it worried her, she didn't show it. Instead, she just turned back to Baoshii, whom she was already growing fond of. "You might just want to try this purple one for your brew," she said to him.

Ages ago, Alsius fought alongside Warchief Thrall to help found their imposing city of Orgrimmar. He led a small band of orcs against a full centaur war party, he at the tip of the spear. Each orc at his side fought with a ferocity unmatched, their cries of battle echoing its challenge to any that dare oppose the Horde. They fought and bled together, united, behind a common cause.

Notably, they did not have tea.

He rubbed a hand over his face. "You lead the soldiers you're given," he whispered to himself. Looking up and clearing his head, he called out to the band. "Form up!" The four stood at attention in front of him, more alert than he would have thought. A glimmer of hope, perhaps. "We're to enter the Wailing Caverns and put an end to the threats that lie within. There will be great challenges before us, but also honour, and glory!"

"And ingredients!" the Pandaren said in unison.

"And ingredients... Now, the commanders at the Crossroads said the Huojin monks are particularly adept at all specialities. I will draw them to me, if you can rain death upon them!"

"Brewmasters typically don't fill that role," Shalai said. "We're the ones that get the attention in a dungeon, most likely.

Brew draws the masses, as they say."

Alsius scowled. The ones issuing the orders at the Crossroads would sometimes not pay attention to the specialities of those that were not their orcish brethren. "You two, then - can you fill that role?" he said to Myraah and Yrella.

"I was clear in saying I was a healer," Yrella said. "Not one to get my hands dirty... although in this place I daresay that ship has sailed."

"And I'm trained in the arts of discipline," Myraah added. "We know shadow magics, but we're adept healers, mostly..."

"Two healers and three to draw attention," Alsius said. "This is to be a long day." Slinging his axe over his shoulder, he walked to the entrance of the great hole in the earth that led below to the Wailing Caverns. "Blood, thunder and teapots," he grumbled.