Verielle stumbled blindly through the dead thicket. Separated from her caravan and alone, tears streamed down her face. The Scourge had attacked suddenly and brutally, showing no remorse as they mowed down the guards. The Scourge remnants here didn't usually attack in such a coordinated method - a necromancer must have been pulling the strings.

She continued to run as fast as she could, trying to get away. Her body was covered with numerous cuts and bruises from her mad scramble through the dead and dried thicket. Sweat and blood got in her eyes and she never saw the low hanging branch that struck her in the forehead. All she saw was the branches and the night sky as she fell to the ground prone.

Stunned, the young blood elf lay there gasping for breath as the new pain in her forehead blossomed into existence. The still night air was cold and chilled her sweat drenched body even further and she began to shiver.

A shambling noise came from the direction she had been running from. Barely able to move, she turned her head towards the sound and instantly regretted it. She was being hunted.

"Hunted" may not be the right term to describe it. The animated corpse that stumbled her way was simply following the smell of blood. Used to eating long dead corpses, fresh elf-blood enticed it. It stumbled numbly towards the fallen elf girl, its eyes aglow with the necromantic energies that animated it.

Despite being scared out of her wits and on the brink of collapse, Verielle strained herself to crawl away. Still the zombie lurched forward, sensing the distress in the elf's movements. It suddenly bound forward and grabbed her leg. Verielle screamed as the zombie picked her up and went to bite down on her neck.

So focuses on its meal of opportunity that it did not notice the dagger until it was planted between its eyes. Shocked, it dropped the elf and bellowed in rage. It ripped the dagger free and through it to ground, looking around to see the source of the attack.

Verielle looked up, just in time to see a flurry of attacks strike the zombie. From the shadows emerged a tall figure clad in black, slashing and bloodying the zombie. He slammed his two daggers into the zombie's back then ducked low to avoid the massive claws it swung back at him. Leaving the daggers where they had struck, the figure drew a pair of swords and slashed across the undead's chest. The zombie tried to dodge out of the way but the daggers in its back kept it from moving fast enough. The assailant lunged forward, leading with his right blade. The zombie struck at it but it was only a feint. The left sword came in swiftly and took off the zombie's clawed hands. It stood there for a few moments, ichor dripping from countless wounds. The black-clad figure stepped forwards and brought his swords to bear across the undead's midsection. Too badly damaged, the unholy light in its eyes faded as the dark magics that held it together were dispelled, and the zombie crumbled into a lifeless heap on the ground.

Verielle could scarcely believe it. She was saved! This rogue had come to rescue her! Her happiness was short lived, as the figure removed his mask. There was no mistaking the human face as he reached down to retrieve his weapons. Inspecting them for damage, he sheathed his weapons and turned to the elf. Seized with a new fear, she started to gasp uncontrollably.

No no no! she thought to herself. A human, here?!

Humans were reviled by the Sin'dorei - most of them thought they were to blame for all the plights and persecution that had befallen them. The fear and hatred of humans flowed through her now, as this one approached. But she was too weak to resist. What would he do? Had he saved her only to kill her? Or did he have other plans for her? She shuddered in fear at the thought.

The tall man took a knee next to the frightened elf. His alien features made her even more afraid. She slowly reached for her as she finally succumbed to her exhaustion, and the world around her went dark.

Zeklor was having a hell of time.

"'Go to the Ghostlands!' they said! 'Find the hidden treasures of the Amani' they said! By Sargeras's flaming beard they should have warned me this place was crawling with so many blasted undead!" He grumbled as he lurked in the shadows.

Zeklor, or Zek as he was commonly known, had arrived in the Plaguelands weeks before. A couple of Steamwheedle goblins had hired - no, tricked! - him into taking this foolhardy mission. Having only been here a few days, he was certain there were no troll riches to be found. If there were, there were too many undead to dig through to find them!

A noise from a nearby thicket startled him. He ducked down to the base of a nearby tree and kept his eyes trained on the direction of the sound. The underbrush rustled some more, and a young blood elf female stumbled out. She was young, by Zek's estimation, even by human standards. She was covered in cuts from running through the dense thicket. She kept glancing behind her and didn't notice the low hanging branch.

Zek winced as she fell back towards the ground and lay there, shivering. Only then did Zek notice whom - or what - she appeared to have been running from. Following her trail through the thicket was a lumbering zombie. Stupid, but lethal. The elf saw the zombie's proximity and tried to desperately crawl away. Suddenly the zombie pounced forward and grabbed the girl by leg. She was screaming as it lifting her up and went for her throat.

Zek didn't accurately recall how long the string of obscenities was that escaped his lips as he surged forward. He launched a throwing dagger straight at the zombie's head, scoring a hit. Enraged, it dropped the elf and clawed at its face trying to dislodge the offending implement. Stepping through shadow Zek launched a flurry of attacks on the undead. His daggers whipped back and forth across the zombie's animated corpse, bloodying it all over. Maneuvering behind his target, he aimed his daggers at a precise point and plunged them into the undead's back.

The zombie twisting around to swing at him, but Zek anticipated that would happen and had already ducked. He drew his swords from his sides and took advantage of the monster's opening to slash at its chest. The zombie tried to dodge back but Zek's daggers had done their job - locked the creature's hips and inhibited movement. Still the slashes weren't enough to do any serious damage. Zek lunged forward with a main hand feint. Falling for it, the zombie swiped at Zek, which enabled him to strike with his offhand blade, taking the zombies arms off at below the elbow.

The creature stood there in shock, as its blood-like ichor dripped from its wounds. Smirking under his cowl, Zek brought his blades to bear across the midsection of the beast, finishing it. As the magic faded its body crumbled to the ground, lifeless once more.

Sighing, Zek pulled his hood down and shook the sweat out of his hair. He knelt down to retrieve his - thankfully undamaged! - daggers. Sheathing his weapons, he turned towards the elf.

She was staring at him with intense fear in her eyes. She was gasping for breath and shivering uncontrollably. Zek knelt down next to her with a concerned look on his face as he looked over her numerous cuts and bruises. As he looked her over she rolled her eyes back in up into her head and lost consciousness. Her breathing slowed but was still labored.

Zek looked up and took in his surroundings. The sounds of combat should have alerted any potential blood elf scouts but there were none that he could see or hear. From the looks of the young girl she wasn't a fighter - mostly likely part of a merchant caravan. He tried to recall the crude map he had seen of the area. There was a settlement known as Tranquillen somewhere in the middle of the Ghostlands with an outpost of sorts to the southeast of it. Neither would be an easy walk. She was likely a member of merchant caravan traveling with supplies to an outpost. Zek thought to himself. Their caravan must have been attacked and she got separated.

Night had already fallen and he didn't want to be left out in the open much longer. He reached into his pouches and pulled a roll of bandages. Working quickly, he wrapped up the elf's more serious cuts and scraps. He then picked her up - she was surprisingly light - and faded into the shadows. Over the next couple of hours he worked his way up into the foothills the thickets had been at the base of. He backtracked until he found the large rocky outcropping dotted with crimson crystals. Zek approached the rocks then gave them a swift kick.

"Wake up, Ruby!" he said loudly. The rocky formation shifted and moved as the volcanic stone drake uncurled itself and yawned. Stretching, she gave Zek a nod and then focused her attention on the bandaged elf in his arms. Sniffing at it, she gave him a quizzical look.

"I am NOT eating THAT!" the drake scoffed.

Zek rolled his eyes as he walked past the drake and into the small cave she had been concealing.

"She's not for eating, granite breath! She ran afoul of some undead. Must have gotten separated from her caravan." Zek said, and set her down on some bedding on the cave floor. He rummaged around in some of his packs and found his potion case. Opening the wooden box he pulled out a vial filled with a thick red fluid.

He broke the wax seal on the vial and removed the stopper. He gently lifted the girls head and slowly poured a small amount of the potion into her mouth. Color started returning to her face and her breathing became deeper and less ragged.

Zek continued to pour the healing potion into her mouth until she had taken it all. He set her head back down on the bedding, the covered her with a large fur cloak he used as a blanket. Ruby had returned to her previous position, sitting with her head in the small cave and leaving just enough of a gap to let the moonlight shine into the cave.

Zek motioned to a large stone laying next to Ruby. The drake leaned over and took the rock up in her jaws. Inhaling, she then used her dragon-breath to heat the rock until it glowed. She gingerly set the rock down and its heat began to radiate throughout the small cave.

Sitting across from the sleeping elf, Zek took his weapons out and began to clean the undead ichor from his blades. Ruby sat watching him as he worked quickly in the fading glow of the dragonfire heated rock.

"What of the girl?" she asked, as she laid her head down on her rocky foreclaws.

"Hadn't thought that far ahead. She'll make it through the night though. We can send her on her way tomorrow at first light." Zek said nonchalantly, applying a protective oil to his blades.

Ruby snorted. "That little thing? She won't last five minutes on her own down there! You are going to have to take her back to the Sin'dorei."

Zek looked up at the drake and raised his eyebrow. "And what do you propose I do after they find me and gut me? Kind of hard to find a troll treasure horde if my head is on a pike and the rest of me is zombie chow!"

Ruby rolled her reptilian eyes - a habit she had picked up from Zek. "You'll think of something. You ALWAYS think of something."

Settings his weapons aside he began to remove his leather armor. There was not enough light left to inspect the armor for damage, but he was fairly certain he would find none. Setting it neatly next to his weapons, he moved over to the entrance and sat down next to Ruby. Her skin was as hard as granite, but he had grown accustomed to it after their many years together. She turned her massive neck to form a nook he could lean on.

The light from the stone had all but gone out, but Zek could still see the elf in the moonlight. Her breathing was deep and regular. He WOULD think of something, eventually. He just hoped things didn't any more complicated. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back onto Ruby's neck and drifted off into sleep.