Memory Lane

They had stopped on a small rise overlooking the village of Stoneplow, or rather, what was left of it after the Mantid invasion. Boulders were scattered over the hillside, making it useless for farming but an excellent place for a weary patrol to take their rest.

The Sin'dorei had marched for some time, heading from the forward bases in the Jade Forest and continuing on into the valley. Sent on the order of Alleriel Sunhaven, they comprised a mixed group of House Dawnsea and House Sunhaven forces, with some new recruits that had recently arrived on the continent. All of them were tired and awed by the strange place that they found themselves.

All but one that is.

“It is SO BORING here!” Lirallel grumped as she sat on one of the boulders. She shifted in place, not needing to rest and impatient with the rest of the small patrol. Several of the other Sin'dorei rolled their eyes at her, one even muttering under their breath. It was her fault they had marched for so long, since she'd managed to get lost not once, but twice during the journey and had to be located by the scouts.

“Well it IS!” the undead elf continued, either not understanding the hostile glares directed at her or not caring. “I just want to actually put my blade to use. Lady Sunfire totally said I could use it, and it's been almost TWO WEEKS since I've seen combat. How am I going to prove how useful I am if we're just sitting here?”

“Would you shut up?” one of the other soldiers muttered. He had a small brooch pinning his travel cloak in place that depicted a sun rising over the waves; the emblem of House Dawnsea. “Nobody cares what Lady Sunfire told you that you could or could not do. She's not even HERE and I doubt our new 'commander' is all that interested in engaging in outright battle with the Alliance beachheads in Krasarang. Get used to this; you'll likely be helping to rebuild burned homes and moving logs and chopping down trees rather than fighting.”

Lirallel stared at the other elf in horror, the effect contradicted by the fact that she herself was horrifying to look upon. Her blue-painted lips quivered as the other elf finished, “C-chopping logs? Oh my heavens, that is going to RUIN my armor! And my nails! My NAILS!”

She held up one of her hands to emphasize the point, pulling off her gauntlet to display her black manicure. Rather than impress the Sin'dorei she was talking to, her dead, marble-white skin merely made him shudder in disgust and look away quickly.

Lirallel didn't seem to notice the reaction, nodding happily as she slipped her spiked gauntlet back on her hand. “You'll see! I will show Lady Sunfire that I'm the best weapon she's got! And Lady Sunhaven too!”

With that, Lirallel took her runeblade out, holding it up to examine its edge. The other Sin'dorei merely rolled their eyes and ignored her; it was more trouble than it was worth trying to correct her, and talking to her for extended periods of time could give one a headache.

Several minutes passed, the Sin'dorei patrol taking the opportunity to rest and consume some of their rations. Their destination was the outskirts of Stoneplow, where they would assist with continuing to clean up the Mantid invasion or help Pandaren families that were trapped by the assault to withdraw. Just as the blood elves were about to resume their march (and Lirallel was about to begin removing her armor piece by piece to clean it), a scream arose from the nearby fields.

Lirallel was instantly on her feet, her unnatural swiftness allowing her to react faster than the rest of the patrol. Perched atop one of the larger boulders, she had a good view of the nearby fields. Many of them were partially burned or destroyed by the advance of Sha corruption. As had happened several times in recent days, the Mantid invasion force had begun to push into the area again, their flying creatures passing over the wall to harass the Pandaren that were trying to gather their belongings that they had been forced to leave behind.

The scene that met Lirallel's eyes was typical; about five Pandaren had been caught by a Mantid raid, the insectoid creatures surrounding their prey and herding them towards a final slaughter. Lirallel could see the Pandaren as they panicked, several of them grouping together as they tried to flee the invaders. One of the smaller Pandaren clutched desperately to the paw of what must have been her mother as she ran through the fields. As the death knight watched, a Mantid landed behind them, shoving the mother hard and causing her to lose her grip on her daughter. The little one, who was a young 'teenager' at best, cried out, reaching desperately for her parent as the two were torn away from each other by a flurry of insect bodies.

“What do you see Knight Ebondawn?” the patrol captain asked. Only silence greeted him, and he looked up to the boulder where Lirallel was standing with a puzzled expression on his face.

Lirallel didn't hear him. She stood, her shoulders wilted and her runeblade's tip resting on the ground. She stared at the scene far below, something deep within her mind rupturing as a memory forcibly made its way to the surface. The scourgelight in her eyes flicked and dulled, a faint hint of green mixing with the abominable color. An image from her former life flashed before her eyes, and a moment later, it swallowed her whole.

*********************************

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath came in gasps. They were all around them now, in the open garden area near Dawning Lane that made up half of Silvermoon City. Screams arose from the panicked throats, the Scourge pressing their advantage and pouring into the homes and businesses of the Quel'dorei that lived and worked in the city's quarter as the nation of Quel'Thalas fell to the tides of undeath.

Somehow she knew she shouldn't be here. She knew something was wrong. Lirallel felt as if her body was mired in muck, unable to move. She looked and saw a Quel'dorei, her jet black hair flowing behind her as she ran, horror on her face. She skidded to a halt, her hand reaching out to grasp the hand of a young Quel'dorei with bright blonde hair.

“Lira! Lira we have to run! They've broken through! Come on baby, we have to get out of here!”

A shiver went through Lirallel's body as she heard the voice, recognized the face. There was no mistaking what she was seeing; Lirathiel Leafdawn was attempting to rescue her eldest daughter before the Scourge caught them. It was an ill-fated attempt that would result in her death. There was no escape now, no hope for the citizens of Silvermoon.

“Minn'da I'm scared!” the young Lirallel said as her mother began to run, pulling her along. “What about Cathara? What of Ann'da and Eli?”

Her mother merely shook her head, her face a mask of sorrow as she ran, “Come on baby. We need to keep moving. We need to get out of he-”

A ghoul charged out of a nearby garden, its face covered in gore and its talons extended as it rushed the two. Lirallel watched as her younger self screamed in horror, her mother skidding to a halt between her and the creature, breaking her grip on her daughter's hand. Gruesome talons reached out, raking the air and narrowly missing the Quel'dorei.

“Minn'da! MINN'DA!” little Lirallel cried.

“GO LIRA! RUN! RUN BABY RUN!” her mother screamed, using her body to shield her child. The little elven girl turned and fled, her mother delaying the creatures that were coming from the garden to rip them to shreds.

In her mind, Lirallel tried to process the emotions that flowed through her, her long undead form unable to comprehend what she was experiencing. She shivered in place, watching the scene that was a waking nightmare, her thoughts whirling.

I have to stop them. I have to protect her. I need a sword. I HAVE a sword. I can fight now. I can fight Minn'da! Please hold on, I can fight them!

The thought slammed through her shattered consciousness, electrifying her limbs. She began to move.

*************************

Before the patrol leader could repeat his question, the motionless death knight burst into action. Her blade came up, deadly runes dancing along it's length. She leaped from the boulder, her ghastly form a blur.

“Knight Ebondawn, what are you-” the patrol leader began.

“MINN'DA! I'M COMING MINN'DA! PLEASE DON'T GET HURT! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!” came a horrific cry from Lirallel's dead throat. The sound echoed through the fields, and several of the Mantid turned, their heads tilting as they detected the death knight's presence.

The creatures turned to face the charging white creature, talons extended even as several of them continued to herd the Pandaren to slaughter them. They had fought both Pandaren and some of the newcomers that had landed on the continent. Confident, the warriors prepared to slaughter the lone attacker and continue their assault.

Unfortunately for them, they had never fought the undead before.

Lirallel moved faster than she should have, her limbs a blur as her runeblade came up over her head. One of the Mantid attempted to block the blow, and the deadly magical blade simply descended down and shattered its limb, cleaving it nearly in half. Green gore splattered the ground and the howling death knight as she brought the blade up again, parrying a spear that was thrust at her.

The blade whirled, Lirallel's eyes glazed and unfocused as she beheaded on of the insects attempting to stop her. Beyond the opponents blocking her path, she could see the other Mantid preparing to spear the Pandaren woman before her daughter's eyes.

“MINN'DA! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Lirallel screamed. A spear thrust through her belly, splattering black ichor on the ground. She simply ignored it, driving herself up the shaft so that she could plunge her blade through the carapace of the Mantid that had impaled her. As it fell she reached out, dark magics curling from her fingertips and wrapping around the Mantid warrior that had brought its spear up to slaughter the Pandaren mother.

Instantly the creature was wrapped in dark tendrils of energy and it was jerked from its feet, its spear falling harmlessly to the ground as it was forcibly dragged to Lirallel. Another spear was jammed through her back and she ignored this injury as well, reaching out with her bare hands to snap the neck of the Mantid that had been assaulting the Pandaren.

Another Mantid lurched towards the cowering Pandaren woman, even as her daughter rushed to her side and they gripped each other tightly. An unearthly scream issued from Lirallel's mouth and she yanked her runeblade free from where it had lodged in one of her victims.

“MINN'DA!”

The ground around her froze as she lurched towards the cowering Pandaren. As another spear went up, she hurled her runeblade through the air. Rather than fly like a normal object, it began to hover in the air, parrying a sword that cut at Lirallel's head. Her eyes blazed with scourgelight and she pointed at the Mantid that was threatening the Pandaren. It hurtled through the air, attacking them as if an invisible warrior wielded it. A second later the Mantid fell dead, its ichor joining that of the others who had already fallen.

With the Pandaren safe, Lirallel turned, her face devoid of any compassion. Mantid weapons gouged her armor and a sword hit cut her arm. She ignored all of it, reaching behind her and drawing an ax from her back. It glittered with runes, dark energies surging through it.

“Now you all die...” Lirallel said, her voice like a cold wind.

As a group the remaining Mantid raiders charged her. Rather than prepare for them, Lirallel also charged, her ax held up above her head, deadly cold snow blowing around her. Bodies collided and weapons flashed. Spells exploded and Mantid howled as they were destroyed.

It was over in seconds and Lirallel stood motionless on a pile of insectoid corpses. Her body was covered in gouges, cuts, and what would have been life threatening wounds had she been alive. It meant nothing to her. All that mattered was that she had saved her mother. She wasn't in Pandaria. She wasn't fighting Mantid.

She was in Silvermoon City fighting Scourge.

Behind her the Pandaren gathered, hugging each other close, several of them weeping. They saw beyond the motionless dead elf that other Sin'dorei were hurrying from a nearby rise, their faces lined with worry. As the elves approached, the patrol leader passed Lirallel, reaching out to steady the nerve wracked Pandaren mother.

“Miss, are you alri-” he began.

An icy cold grip pressed down on his shoulder, and he found himself spun around, face to face with Lirallel. The death knight looked through him as if he was not even there.

“Do not touch her. Keep your filthy scourge hands off of my mother!”

The patrol leader swallowed a lump in his throat as he stared back at the dead elf. She was covered in gore, some of it her own black ichor. In areas where her deep purple armor hadn't covered her flesh she had been impaled, and she had holes in her that should be fatal. In one of them, he could see a blood worm writhing, feasting on diseased flesh. The sight nearly made him wretch.

“K-knight Ebondawn, there are no scourge here. Do you understand me? There are no scourge here. You are in Pandaria. You are protecting Pandaren from a Mantid invasion. Do you hear me?”

The death knight tilted her head, her bleached white hair falling around her face as she studied the elf. Her voice was hollow, as if it issued from the ground. “You lie.”

The rest of the patrol gathered around the scene, and the patrol leader held up a hand to steady them and get them to hold; they had already seen what the undead elf was capable of. “No, look around you. SEE what is around you. We are elves, not scourge. There are no spires here, no banners, no gates. SEE the fields Knight Ebondawn. Do you hear me?”

A tense moment passed as Lirallel stared through the elf that was addressing her. Her head turned, the scourgelight in her eyes fading slightly as she looked beyond him. A shudder went through her and her entire posture changed. Her ax dipped down before falling from her limp fingers.

“W-what...what's going on..?” Lirallel said softly. “Why are you all staring at me, and OH MY HEAVENS WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY ARMOR?!”

A collective sigh of relief issued from the patrol. Several of them looked at one another and made 'crazy' gestures while nodding at the death knight. For her part, Lirallel didn't seem to notice, looking down at her ruined armor in disgust. The patrol leader nodded, gesturing to his men to secure the area so they could lead the Pandaren to safety.

As they began to gather up the refugees and prepared to depart, a smaller, younger Pandaren girl pushed through the elves. She ran up to the undead elf and embraced her, ignoring the horrific wounds on the creature. Lirallel's eyes widened in surprise as the little creature nodded at her and then slipped back through the crowd to her mother.

As the group prepared to depart, the patrol leader came up behind Lirallel and patted her on the shoulder, “You did well Knight Ebondawn.”

Lirallel's gaze wandered to the Pandaren as they began to walk, and she shook her head. “No, I didn't do anything. Lirallel Leafdawn did. Her mother did not live that day, but maybe someday, she will rest in peace.”

With that the death knight stalked off, grabbing up her fallen weapons and joining the patrol, leaving her patrol leader confused. He would never understand the dead creature, and maybe that was for the best.

Crashing the Party

"Lady Sunnydale and guest!" the voice boomed out.

Several elves turned and smiled at the announcement, looking back towards the delicate metal gates that separated the party grounds from the rest of the estate. Located deep within Eversong, House Sunwhisper's property was a sprawling complex of buildings, pools, and gathering areas hemmed off by high bushes with the masterfully crafted gates as portals. The evening's party was taking place in one of the smaller, secluded areas and guests were being ushered in through one of several gates connecting it to the rest of the property.

The Sin'dorei noblewoman who had been announced curtsied gracefully to several other elves as they greeted her before walking towards the group and mingling with the crowd. She was quickly followed by another guest, and then another, each having their name announced by the gate's usher. As the names were announced and guests mingled, a hum of conversation grew. It was clear that everyone who was anyone had been invited to Lady Sunwhisper's party, and it would likely be the talk of the winter months.

Lady Sunwhisper herself was thrilled with the party's attendee list thus far. She mentally checked off each name that was announced. While she had given out invitations to only a select few, she had purposely allowed the details of the party to slip out and become public gossip, ensuring that virtually half of Silvermoon would show up for her event.

As she stood amongst her guests mentally congratulating herself, a small bit of disturbance rippled through the crowd. Frowning, she looked up to see some of the guests near the gate speaking more loudly in complaint. Even as she looked, a name was announced, "Dame Lirallel Ebondawn!"

As Lady Sunwhisper forced her way through the crowd, she saw the usher allowing a slender, pale Sin'dorei in a deep black dress through the gates. Immediately she could tell that there was something wrong with the elf, as her skin was ghastly white and her lips painted a deep blue. As she drew closer, Lady Sunwhisper could tell that the elf's eyes glowed with a deep blue scourge-light.

She approached the elf, drawing herself to full height before speaking in a hushed tone, "Come with me at once Dame Ebondawn."

With that she stalked off, leaving the rather confused looking Lirallel to follow after. Behind her, the crowd whispered, gossip already popping up as it was wont to do amongst high society.

The two elves walked to a secluded area of the party grounds, and Lady Sunwhisper turned and virtually spat words at the death knight, "What do you think you're DOING?"

"I-I...there's a party here, right?" Lirallel asked innocently.

"Yes, but not for YOUR kind. See yourself out of the back gate at once, and do not darken our event with your presence again," Lady Sunwhisper said sternly.

Lirallel opened her mouth as if to speak and then shut it, thinking better of the situation. She shrugged, slipping past the irate noble without saying another word, using a back gate and walking slowly away.

"It's not fair. I am never invited to attend events," Lirallel murmured to herself as she walked. Ahead she could see the moonlight sparkling on the water near Sunsail Anchorage. She wandered in that direction, her thoughts brooding. "I should be able to go to parties too! I even bought this dress just for the occassion!"

She walked towards the water's edge, looking at her reflection in the water and reaching up to fix a stray piece of her bleached white hair that had fallen out of place. If not for her ghastly color she might have been considered beautiful, especially the way she'd artfully styled her hair. Her makeup was also stunning, applied just so to match her hue. She shrugged, actually drawing in a breath to sigh slightly, "Now look at all this wasted effort. I bet they were totally jealous of me!"

She walked over to one of the broken piers of the Anchorage, sitting down on the stones and slipping her jet-black high heels off. She set her shoes beside her, arranging her skirts on the stones as she let her feet dangle into the water before her. She smiled as she saw the water ripple, breaking the moonlight up and sending sparkling bits of light around her submerged feet. Although she could not feel the water any longer, the act of sitting like this was something her form remembered from another time, when she would happily splash in the warm waters.

Times had changed of course. Rather than cooling herself down, the water around her feet began to chill, and little bits of ice floated up to the surface and floated away. This amused the undead elf for a time, and she sat still, musing over her most recent social rejection. "I bet the party isn't even very fun anyway. They probably don't have any music I would like."

She nodded to herself, splashing in the water. The sound distracted her for a moment, which is why she didn't hear them approaching her from behind. The first sign she had of the Wretched was when one of them was touching her hair and hissing softly into her ear.

With a start she whirled her head around, eyes wide in surprise. After a moment though she just shook her head, "Oh, it's just some of you."

Wretched were throughout the ruins of Silvermoon and around the Anchorage as well. Lirallel had become accustomed to seeing them alone or in packs, roaming the ruined buildings and searching for magic. Now and then they confronted her, but generally they did not want to consume scourge energy, which is all she had to offer them. They knew what she was. Even as she thought this, another of them hissed.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you. I would totally give you some magic though if I did," Lirallel said.

One of the Wretched leaned forward towards her, as if sniffing the air around her, "Need more. We hunger..."

Lirallel nodded at the creature. Most Sin'dorei would be horrified to be so close, but Lirallel didn't mind them. At least they didn't say nasty things to her. Not that her feelings would be hurt, but sometimes when she was insulted she just wanted to HURT people, and sometimes if she thought about it long enough, she found it hard to stop herself. She LIKED hurting them. It made her feel good, or rather, made her feel better for a while. But she knew that they would try to destroy her if she acted out of line enough, so she was often forced to choke down the feeling and give up the bliss that hurting them would bring.

"I suppose they don't want you at the party either," she said to the Wretched. She looked back out over the water, kicking her feet and splashing again. The Wretched around her hissed at the sound before settling into half-crouches. "It's not fair really, you are just as much elves as they are. Instead of trying to help you, they leave you out here to starve."

One of the Wretched near her moaned pitifully, the sound bringing a smile to her lips. It murmured under its breath, "We must find another source..."

"Really though, I totally do not understand why they don't try to talk to you," Lirallel said. She wagged her finger at the nearest Wretched, which hissed at her. "I mean, look at you. You were just like them once! Just like I was, and they don't even help you find clothing and shelter or give you any magic to soothe your thirst. I at least can go find my own ways to feed, but you...just look at you gentlemen. You poor things."

One of them began to paw at her hair again. She shrugged as a blood worm wriggled out of her ear and tried to latch onto its wrist. "One day they will have to learn to accept you for what you are if they want to rebuild this place. And me! We can be useful, we can help too!"

She looked up at the Wretched, tilting her head as an idea came to her, "Hey you know what? I bet I could totally help YOU! I mean, you hate my magic so I can't help you with that, but there were some magical lights in the garden back there. If I let you in the gate, do you think you could sneak around the party goers and get to the lights? I'll do it if you promise to be super quiet."

One of the Wreteched stepped towards her, almost growling. The sound made her giggle and she patted it on the shoulder, prompting it to attempt to bite her. "You are SO CUTE! Anyway, if you want, follow me. At least someone can enjoy the party."

With that she jumped to her feet, sending some of the Wretched scrambling away from her warily. She reached down, snatching up the straps of her shoes and dandling them by her side as she walked barefoot back towards the gates that she had been ushered out of earlier. Seven Wretched followed her, as if drawn by curiosity.

With a smile, Lirallel reached the gate and pulled on it. It was locked from the inside, but she was sure that was merely accidental. What if more guests wanted to come in after all? She set her shoes down beside her and grasped the gate firmly in both hands, pulling with all her unnatural strength. The metal bent and buckled before tearing free with a shriek.

Lirallel set the broken metal down against the bushes that hemmed in the party area and bent down to retrieve her shoes. She smiled at the Wretched and nodded, "Go on then! I'm not allowed back in the party because they did NOT like my dress, but you can all go in and sneak around the back and take just a tiny bit of magic okay? Not too much, just a tiny bit!"

One of the Wretched sniffed the air before him, as if sensing the magic within the party grounds. With a soft hiss he slipped through the gates, the rest following. Lirallel smiled at them as the passed, satisfied that she had done a good deed. With a sigh of satisfaction, the dead elf walked back towards the Anchorage. This time she stepped barefoot onto the surface of the water, and it froze beneath her.

"It's hard being a hero. You really have to think about how you can help people," she said softly to herself as she walked away. "I think tonight was a great start though! Lady Sunfire is going to be so proud!"

With that she disappeared into the forest, heading towards her estate. Behind her, the water slowly thawed in the moonlight, the screams from the party echoing distantly in the night.

That Escalated Quickly

Eversong was quiet and peaceful, only the sounds of nature flowing beneath the carefully sculpted trees. In eternal spring, the forest was alive with a diverse number of creatures that called it home. Atop the small hill overlooking a lone stretch of road below it, the sounds of nature were muted where a group of Sin'dorei had established a small camp.

There were about twenty of them in all, five in the central camp and three other groups of five scattered amongst the trees and bushes down below. All of them wore clothing that blended in with the natural colors around them, the intent to conceal themselves from observers. In the central camp, a small, portable table had been erected and maps were strewn about its surface.

“Lady Sunfire's route will take her past this position within the quarter hour,” a soft, feminine voice said. Around her, several other Sin'dorei nodded at the priestess as she explained the plan. “As soon as I give the signal with magic, each group will launch their offensive, cutting off any chance for her entourage to advance or retreat. We slay all of them and move the bodies to the dead scar, making it look like some of the undead did it.”

Around the table, the other Sin'dorei nodded. They had already been briefed on the assassination plans, but it didn't hurt to review the details one last time, especially when dealing with a powerful magistrix like Biara Sunfire. As the priestess opened her mouth to speak, a voice drifted to her from the group, one that sounded unnatural, as if it were coming from beneath the ground.

“Wow, your dress is GORGEOUS. I know you are really busy and everything, but after you're done can we talk about where you got that?” the voice said.

Blinking in utter shock, the priestess turned to find a horrifying sight standing amongst the Sin'dorei within her ambush group. Ghastly white, an obviously dead elf was leaning forward, smiling at her through blue-painted lips, her eyes running over the dress as well as the map spread out on the table. She was armored in bits of deep purple plate armor that did little to cover her flesh and likely explained why her approach from the Dead Scar had gone undetected.

“W-what?! Who are you? Identify yourself at once!” the priestess snarled.

The dead Sin'dorei's smile widened and she offered a curtsey that was stiff and unnatural, “I'm Dame Ebondawn, miss. You can call me Lirallel though or Lira! I didn't mean to mess up your meeting but that dress is just AMAZING.”

As she spoke, Lirallel leaned forward, her purple gauntlets running down the sleeve of the priestess's dress. The Sin'dori looked at her with a mixture of shock and disgust, while out of the corner of her eye she noted a small dot in the distance that likely heralded the arrival of the carriage carrying Lady Sunfire on the road far below.

“More likely you are a spy!” the priestess snapped. She reached out and shoved Lirallel away from her with an angry gesture, nodding to the others in the camp. “Seize her for questioning. We will find out who she is working for after we've finished our business here.” For her part, Lirallel stumbled backwards in surprise, her mouth open in an 'O' of shock. She was roughly grabbed by two Sin'dorei who stepped up behind her.

The Sin'dorei priestess would never comprehend the sheer lethality of the mistake she'd made.

Lirallel's eyes became unfocused and she began to mutter to herself quietly even as the priestess turned away, “But it's so pretty. And I just wanted to ask about it. Why wouldn't she tell me where she got it? It's so pretty. I should have pretty things. But she said I can't, just like the others. I don't know why she's acting like this. She's going to die anyway...”

As the last sentence left her mouth, a change came over the dead Sin'dorei's face. The facade of innocence that had been present faded, and her eyes glowed maliciously. She began to speak, her voice much less friendly and accommodating, the tone firm. “It SHOULD be mine. She's not going to need it when she's dead. I DESERVE to have nice things too. She's going to be dead anyway. It's pretty, it should be mine. It IS mine. Give it to me now. Give it to me or DIE.”

She jerked her arms forward, her unnatural form much stronger than its size would hint at. The two Sin'dorei holding her were thrown to the ground and she stepped over them, ignoring them as if they were nothing to her. Her malicious gaze fixated on the priestess, she reached back, drawing an ax from its holster on her back. The weapon was cold saronite, the blade etched with glowing runes of death, blood, and frost. It glittered with an evil light as Lirallel brought it up.

The priestess turned as she heard her men being thrown to the ground, her eyes wide. She began to chant, hoping to cast a spell, but by then it was far too late. The unhinged creature had quickly crossed the distance between them, the ax arcing through the air with a delicate grace. A second later, the headless corpse of the priestess tumbled to the ground, her spell firing up in the air.

Lirallel was spattered with gore, the red shockingly bright on her bleached white skin. She took in an unnecessary breath, as if being cover with the vital fluids of another living being gave her some semblance of life. Around her, the other Sin'dorei began to react, their shock slowly fading.

*************************

On the road below, Biara's carriage came to an abrupt stop as magic flared into the air on a nearby hill. As cries of alarm came from the guards, Biara herself opened the door and stepped onto the running board of the carriage, watching the magic fade in the air. In the woods ahead, elves began to move, some of them looking at her entourage, and others glancing up at the hill above where the spell had fired off prematurely.

Biara's fel green eyes tracked up to the top of the hill, where she could see a pale white figure bending over something on the ground. Even as she watched in surprise, what could only be a Sin'dorei assassin rammed a blade through her back, sending black ichor spattering everywhere.

*************************

They had stabbed her. It didn't hurt much since she really didn't feel things anymore, but she was aware of it. She didn't really care except for the fact that the sword had plunged out of the front of her body, sending black ichor splattering to the ground in front of her. It had ALMOST gotten on the dress, and Lirallel knew how hard it was to get that ichor out of clothing. It was intolerable.

It was infuriating.

She rose, surging forward and yanking the sword from her back as she did so. Her eyes blazed with scourgelight now as she brought her ax up. Her would-be killer swung again, only to find his weapon shattered against the razor sharp edge of her ax. A second later, his mutilated body joined the weapon on the ground.

Other Sin'dorei ran at her, and from the woods around the camp the ambushers rushed towards their command post, sensing something was amiss. It didn't matter now, Lirallel was in her element. She was DESIGNED to kill. She existed to be a weapon of war, and they had foolishly decided to make war upon her. Living elves, with their frail little bodies and need to live. Sin'dorei who held weak emotions like fear, mercy, and compassion within them. She had none of these things, none of the weaknesses that would stop a true warrior. She had only her rage, and the unending need to bathe in their blood.

And so she did.

Blades flashed in Eversong's sunlight, metal clashing on metal as her weapon moved with unnatural grace. Sin'dorei struck at her, only to find her moving, or finding her weapon parrying blow after blow. She struck back, aiming not for vital organs but for limbs and extremities. Attempting to maim them so that they would bleed longer, so that they would cry out in agony for her. She laughed as she cut at them, the joyous bliss of feeling them suffer filling her like nothing else could. More and more of them rushed from the woods, only to be thrown down into the pile of howling, agonized victims laying in the leaves around her.

********************************

The House Sunfire guards watched warily as the hilltop became a killing ground. They muttered amongst themselves, understanding that if not for some chance of fate, they would have met an ambush on the road ahead. Amongst them Biara remained silent, her eyes affixed to the distant hilltop where what seemed to be a ghost was engaged in a most bloody slaughter.

More than a dozen had already fallen, and there were few left now to face whatever the pale thing was. By pure luck, one of them managed to hit its ax at just the right spot, sending the weapon flying in a glittering arc end over end. A bowman amongst the group fired, the arrow deflecting off of the pale creature's armor.

Biara's eyes widened slightly as she felt magic surge on the hilltop. The bowman clutched at his throat as the figure pointed at him, his windpipe crushed. Another Sin'dorei hurled a spear that impaled the creature, but she merely stumbled back before ripping the weapon from her flesh and swinging it in a wide arc, gouging the throat out of one of her attackers.

A second later the hilltop was enveloped by an unnatural blast of freezing cold air, the temperature change causing a dense fog to roll in and snow to temporarily fall. Just before their visibility was cut to nothing, the elves in Biara's entourage saw the pale figure bending down to retrieve her ax, a grin on her face as she stalked into the fog.

The final screams were cut off mercifully soon after.

*********************************

It took ten minutes for Biara's men to reach the hilltop. During that time, the sounds of battle had faded, and there was utter stillness and silence. In the warmth of Eversong, the fog dissipated rather quickly, and the elves found themselves walking into a scene of utter carnage.

Dead Sin'dorei lay strewn everywhere, many of them wearing assassin's garb or at least having covered hoods to hide their faces. That they were part of an ambush was without a doubt, but none of them had any marking to identify who they had been working for. There were many who would see Biara Sunfire dead however, so it mattered little.

Biara herself walked carefully amongst the dead, making sure not to get any of the gore from the battlefield on her robes. As she made her way to the central camp with its now destroyed map table, she spied a strange sight. There, sitting in the grass was a pale white Sin'dorei, her body covered in gore and ichor. Nearby, a nude and headless corpse was laying in the grass, and in the Sin'dorei's hands was a beautiful but now stained dress.

The pale thing looked up at Biara as she approached, scourge blue eyes boring into her, “They said I couldn't have it. They always say that I'm not pretty enough to have nice things. I don't know why they had to go and try to hurt me. I was just ASKING. It's mine now though, do you understand? It's mine and no one can have it.”

Biara approached slowly, her guards tense as she bent down before the undead Sin'dorei. She offered her a false smile, nodding gently, “Of course it's yours. You won the battle after all, so the spoils go to the victor. It would be ungrateful of me to take something from you when you have likely saved my life miss....what is your name dear?”

Lirallel smiled, her bleached white teeth blending into her face, “I'm Lira! And thank you! Finally SOMEONE sees reason here! Sorry if all of this has bothered you but I think they were going to try to kill you anyway. At least that's what that map over there said.”

Biara turned and nodded to one of her guards. The elf quickly hurried to the ruined table and pulled the shredded map out, studying it. He turned back to Biara and nodded. The Magistrix smiled, “Indeed, you have saved my life Lira, and for that I owe you a debt. If you ever find yourself in need, you have but to come to House Sunfire with your request and I will see to it that you are given aid. In fact, given how well you fought here, I could see that you might find a role amongst my fighters if you were interested.”

Lira looked up at Biara, a smile plastered on her face, “C-could...could I get more dresses do you think? And I'd LOVE to help out! I'm really good at helping!”

Biara's smile was somewhat genuine this time as she nodded, “Of course you could get more dresses. If you wish to put your skills to work, return to Silvermoon and visit the Blackhearts chapter-house. I am sure we can find something for one with your skills to do.”

Lira surged to her feet, making Biara's guards tense up. She didn't attack though, instead hugging her stolen dress to her body, “Oh THANK you so much! You will totally not regret this! I'll go get cleaned up and go RIGHT over there! You are really nice!”

With that she bent down, picked up her gore-encrusted ax, strapped it to her back and walked away, leaving Biara and her men to pick through the clues left behind amongst the dead. Biara watched her go, studying her deadly form for a moment with a smile on her lips.

“I cannot wait until you meet my mother, Lira,” she murmured to herself with amusement.

Brunch for Two

The Forsaken pulled back on the reins of his undead steed, bringing it to a halt as the numbered fronts of the buildings finally lead him to his destination. He slowly dismounted, his rotted form creaking a bit as he steadied himself on the ground. He paused, looking around with a raised brow, wondering if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

He was standing within the ruins of Silvermoon City, along one of the broad paths that paralleled the inner wall of the once populated area. The buildings around him were decayed, crumbling and hollow structures that no longer were inhabitable by living Sin'dorei. To emphasize the fact, the howl of a Wretched dying somewhere deeper in the ruins echoed off of the lonely stone edifice. Likely the area was once beautiful, but now it had fallen into a grotesque mockery of what it once was.

So why was he here?

He reached into his jacket, pulling out the strange invitation he'd received at his room in one of Silvermoon's inns. Certainly the elegant script and filigreed letter stock included the address that he now found himself standing in front of, and yet he was met with only silence, as if a joke had been played on him. After a moment he shrugged, putting the letter away and approaching the double doors of one house on the row. He had come all this way and there was no harm in knocking.

He gave the door a sharp wrap with his knucklebones, standing before the barrier with the infinite patience of the undead. His wait was short lived however as the door before him began to open on creaking hinges, unseen hands pulling it inward. With another small shrug he stepped through the opening, finding himself within a grand foyer.

It was obvious from the moment he stepped inside that the structure had once been more than one dwelling place that was later renovated and opened up. Several hallways lead from the foyer, with a newer looking staircase leading up to a second floor above. The space was lit with eerily glowing blue lamps, and in the dimmer light the Forsaken noticed the unmoving forms of several suits of armor, each bearing spears or halberds and standing at attention near each hallway opening. The size of the figures made their race difficult to determine given the heavy plate armor, and after staring for a moment the Forsaken decided that they were either Sin'dorei who were VERY good at standing still or empty suits of metal for display only.

His thoughts were interrupted as the air before him stirred, a wraith forming from seemingly nothing. He took a step back with a start, recognizing a creature that likely would have been created by the Scourge. Rather than attack him, the thing hovered for a moment, glaring at him with two burning points of cold blue light before speaking in a hissing whisper.

"Inivitaaaaaaaaation. Noooooow."

Somewhat amused, the Forsaken pulled out the letter he'd received and held it up before the wraith. It seemed to nod once and then dispersed in a cloud of shadow. Clearly his invitation was in order. The Forsaken's half-smile quickly faded as he realized several of the 'suits' of armor had moved while he was digging for the invitation, and more than one of them were closer in proximity to him now. They were less empty than he'd originally thought, and given their stillness, likely had similar undead servitors in them.

A melodious voice cut through his private thoughts, drawing his eye to the staircase above. "Sir Kevin Ives! Oh how delightful that you decided to accept my invitation! Please, let me have your coat seen to!"

The voice was low and feminine, but had an echoing quality as if it issued up from beneath the ground rather than from a living throat. It's owner would at first be mistaken for a pale Sin'dorei until one saw her clearly. The word 'pale' failed to properly describe the icy white of the skin of the elf that stood atop the stairway. Marble white with slight streaks of dark color where her veins were visible, the elf was a vision of macabre artistry. Her hair was snow-white, the color almost blending into her skin as it flowed across her shoulders and framed her ghastly white face. She wore a dress that on a living elf would have been stunning, it's white and pale blue fabric cut to hug the curves of a Sin'dorei and flared out at the bottom, giving just a peek of the pale blue, thick heeled shoes she wore beneath it. Her fingers were adorned with bejeweled rings, and similar jewelry bedecked her ears and adorned her head.

She took a few steps down the staircase, her shoes placed carefully to avoid catching in the fabric of her dress. Although her movements were likely designed to be alluring and graceful, to the Forsaken's expert eye there was a bit of stiffness within her form, as if her physical body was a puppet being jerked by the invisible strings of the will that commanded it. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she smiled, her blue-painted lips revealing teeth that had obviously been cosmetically bleached. He reached this conclusion almost immediately as when she spoke, he could see inky black ichor within her mouth that a living Sin'dorei would never tolerate.

She snapped her fingers and from behind the Forsaken a shuffling sound was heard. He turned to find a skeletal undead human approaching him, its form stuffed into a butler's uniform. With another raised brow he looked back at the undead elf, and she offered him another disturbing smile and a nod, "Christopher here will take your things. Come, I have much I wish to discuss with you!"

With that the Forsaken named Kevin Ives found himself handing his coat and hat to a skeleton butler of all things before hurrying after the strange dead elf. Her dress flowed out behind her like a drift of snow as she walked down one of the halls towards an open doorway. As he followed, Kevin noted that the suits of armor that they passed did indeed have malicious glows emanating from deep within their helmets; his guess had been accurate.

As they walked, the Forsaken noted that the hallway was decorated with wall hangings and tapestries that had been custom made specifically for this house. Many of them depicted an armored female elf bearing a glowing sword as she stood atop mounds of fallen enemies. A few had a stylized emblem of a raven perched atop the pommel of a runeblade; likely the symbol of the lady of the house.

Finally the two reached the doorway, and Kevin found himself ushered into a small palor with plush, although somewhat rotted, divans. Between them sat a small tea table, and the entire room was lit with the eerie glow of a magical blue fire in the nearby firepit. The elf gestured towards one of the divans before taking her own seat opposite from the Forsaken.

With some hesitation, the Forsaken opened his mouth to speak, "My Lady, I'm not sure what-"

His words had caused her to burst into a giggle, the sound somewhat unnatural. She recovered quickly, holding up a pale hand to forestall further comment. "I am no 'Lady' of Silvermoon, Sir Ives. You may call me Dame Ebondawn if you wish to be formal, or Lirallel if you wish to be friendly. I have been told in no uncertain terms and repeatedly that my lowborn blood could never earn the title of 'Lady'."

The Forsaken nodded and continued, "Dame Ebondawn, I'm not sure what the purpose of your invitation was, but I must admit to some curiosity. When I first received it, I was surprised that any in Silvermoon would invite one such as myself to a social gathering. Your kind don't prefer the undead."

Lirallel bit her lip, pouting slightly and shaking her head as her guest finished, "Sir Ives, as you can clearly see, I am not a Sin'dorei. You and I are of a kind, while those who I once called brothers and sisters are as distant to me as the sun itself. I have no more in common with those who walk the streets of the un-ruined portions of the city than I do with an orc or a human. It is for this reason that I sent my invitation. I rarely get visitors and when I learned that a Forsaken who was working with the Reliquary would be about, I jumped at the opportunity."

The Forsaken nodded, taking in what the undead elf had said. It was clear just from the very sight of her that what she said was true; she was certainly not amongst the living of Quel'Thalas. How she died, what her purpose was, and who she worked for were intriguing questions. He leaned back on the divan he'd selected, his fingers steepled before him. "Tell me Dame Ebondawn, why? Why do you wish to converse with me? Are you interested in the Reliquary, or simply spying on those within the city proper?"

Lirallel's unnatural laugh echoed through the room again, "Oh heavens no Sir Ives! I could care less what is occurring within the city except how it may impact my opportunities for to further my wealth or research. No, I simply wanted to converse with someone who understood what it was like to be one of us. With my research here and travels, it is rare that I have time to simply speak with another like yourself. Someone who appreciates what I have become and the advantages it brings."

As she finished, she leaned forward and picked up a small silver bell from the table before her. Another undead servant shambled to the doorway, standing there mindlessly. Liraellel turned towards it and nodded, "Brunch Marilyn, if you'd be so kind."

The creature shambled off as Kevin Ives studied Lirallel closely, "You actually consume food? You are becoming more and more of a puzzle with each passing moment Dame Ebondawn."

Liraellel offered him another smile, shaking her head slowly, "Oh my heavens, no! But I have developed some rather interesting concoctions that can help provide us with some energy. It is only polite to offer a member of the Reliquary some refreshment, wouldn't you say? I was fascinated to learn that you worked with that esteemed group, when normally the Forsaken do not involve themselves with much of Quel'Thalas. Tell me, have you gone on any digs? Some of the things that the Reliquary have been rumored to have unearthed sound absolutely thrilling."

The Forsaken remained silent for a moment, as if deciding how much he could share with the creature. The secrets of such an organization were not passed lightly, but there was something about her that made him understand that she would not betray one of her 'kind' as she'd put it. It was fascinating to meet such an interesting and obviously dangerously addled creature. He cleared his throat and nodded, "When they do work within Lordaeron we Forsaken involve ourselves in their projects. I am actually a member of the Royal Apothecary Society, however I have been assigned as an adjunct to several projects that they are moving forward with. I have yet to personally examine a dig site, but plan to in the near future."

Lirallel clapped her hands in delight and opened her blue lips as if to say more. At that moment her servant returned, the undead creature mindlessly shuffling into the room and placing a silver platter on the table. It contained two glasses, a dark wine bottle, and a crystal bowl of what looked to be small mints. The Forsaken's eyes widened as he took in the contents of the tray. Lirallel merely smiled at him, taking the bottle up and uncorking it.

"Naturally I do not consume wine my good sir," she said in an amused tone. "Some of my recent travels have lead me to obtain a much finer vintage however. If you'd care to try some, please be my guest."

She poured the bottle into the glass, the thick red liquid obviously freshly harvested blood. The sight brought a grin to the Forsaken's face and he nodded, allowing the elf to pour some into his glass as well. "Although there is no NEED to partake, sometimes it does one good to feed the blood worms, wouldn't you say?"

"Er...right," Kevin replied. He decided not to point out that he wasn't infested with parasites as he sipped the liquid politely. It wouldn't do to offend his hostess; she seemed like she might not be entirely able to cope with that if he did.

"Do try the mints!" Lirallel crooned. "I think you will be surprised!" She popped one in her mouth and nodded, watching him closely.

With some hesitation, he reached out, picking up the 'mint' and studying it. It was actually amber in color, and almost crystalline. There was a dark shape deep within it. He shrugged, popping it into his mouth and knowing that he would be unable to taste whatever it was anyway. To his surprise, the little 'mint' popped under the pressure of his teeth and something soft and warm flooded his mouth, immediately giving him a small burst of energy that traveled through his body.

Liraellel smiled at his surprised expression and nodded, "It's a type of crystallized Blight with a blood worm larva within it. Perfect pick-me-up when you need energy and great for serving to guests. It's my own recipe, I do hope you like them!"

The Forsaken actually chuckled, the sound a rumbling in his hollow chest. He was beginning to like the strange dead elf more and more. He settled further into his chair, popping another 'mint' in his mouth and offering the undead Sin'dorei a smile. "They are delightful, as is my charming hostess. And your estate is simply lovely. Tell me more about its history!"

With that Lirallel settled herself back as well, her voice a light and airy pitch as she spoke excitedly about her work and home. The two chatted on for many hours, enjoying the snacks she'd set out and exchanging news about the Reliquary, the state of the Forsaken's campaign, and other more mundane things.

Hours later a very satisfied Sir Kevin Ives, Adjunct of the Reliquary, found himself taking his hat and coat from another skeletal butler before being escorted out by his dead hostess. It had been a worthwhile trip after all, and he would be sure to tell his associates that might have to travel to Quel'Thalas about the strange estate where they could take their ease and enjoy a visit with a truly gracious, dead little elf.