Urkela fell to her knees and pressed her face to the cool dirt, the blessed ground of Stonard. She had only been away for a few days, but after even a few days in the strange new world of Pandaria, she was glad she had been ordered back. She stood, inhaling deeply of the night air, the damp and musty smell of the swamp like a fragrant perfume to her senses. The young warlock had then brushed off her clothes and sprinted off to present herself at the officers' quarters when suddenly her path was obstructed by one of those despicable pandaren refugees.

"What is it that you seek?" he asked her. She glared at him, her steel-blue eyes full of fury, a fist raised, shouting, "Do not dare to question me, panda!" She was about to strike him for his insolence when the elder warlock Roodaka angrily and quickly put a stop to that, warning her sharply, chastising her with the words, "Do you not know who that is, grotflesh? It is the Gar`mak!"