Yaochi and the turtle slowly approached the temple, sneaking out of the sight of the mogu. The girl had hoped the mogu would soon leave and she would be free, but life is rarely that easy. Although neither side wanted to attack, they were both ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Iron Qon just sat atop his red quilen, grinning his fangs at the temple’s defenders. When Yaochi got close enough, she noticed something even rarer than the ancient warlords that seem to be coming out of the woodwork lately. She saw a female mogu. A tall, slender figure, red-skinned and beautiful in her own way, although still unmistakably mogu.
She remembered in this moment an old tale about the consort of Iron Qon, Diaochan, a woman as ruthless and ferocious as she was beautiful. Diaochan was a vicious woman who hid her true colors behind her powdered face and elegant dress, making the impression of a demure and obedient lady. But Iron Qon knew the true fire that slept underneath these robes and those who heard the tales about her knew it too. But every now and again someone would underestimate her. Coupled with the infamously chronic backstabber Iron Qon, these two together meant trouble.