Three men of different races sat in a circle in the spire in the Court of the Sun, in Silvermoon City, home of the proud Blood Elves. Two of these men, Myrokos and Kiannadis, are both native to this land, whereas Lerzhus was a Forsaken, or and Undead who escaped the curse that befalls those who are slain by members of the Scourge. This group is not complete, however, for they still await another. Though they cannot wait forever, so their small gathering goes as planned. The Battlemaster who called them together speaks.

"I'm going to skip the formalities, since you all have met before. Though I must ask, where is Tazroz? The Rogue I summoned?"

"Probably off thieving, knowing his kind." Kiannadis replied. "Both his kind and race are disgusting and uncivilized..."

"Watch your tongue, Kiannadis," the man replied. "Though your knowledge of the dark arts is important, do not thing yourself above the others-"

"Pardon ma' late arrival, m'on," Tazroz interrupted, joining the circle. He was a Troll, their kind typically over six feet tall, with horns sprouting from their mouths. Tazroz had green skin, and red hair styled into a mohawk. Kiannadis' dislike of this race was evident.

"Ah, Tazroz, how kind of you to join us. Now, if there are no more interruptions, may I continue?"

He was only met with silence.

"Very well, then. As you all know, you have been called here due to a growing problem we have here. As I am sure Kiannadis and Myrokos already know, we were betrayed by one of our own at least a year ago. However, since Lerzhus and Tazroz are not natives, I will repeat your assignment. You are to infiltrate Dar'Khan's fortress, Deatholme, and take out Dar'Khan himself. I want his head. Any questions?"

"Only one..." Lerzhus replied. His skin was pale, or at least what skin was left. His hair was long and green, his eyes glowing yellow. A good portion of his ribcage was showing, as were the bones of his arms. He specialized in the art of elemental magic- his kind were known as Mages, as Kiannadis' kind were known as Warlocks. "Do we need to keep each other alive?"

"Yes, obviously. And to ensure that you won't kill each other," He eyed Kiannadis specifically. "I'm putting Myrokos in charge of this mission, specifically. Kiannadis, as a Paladin, I expect you to keep your team mates in order. You are all dismissed..."

After he left, the four of them rose. They didn't move, but looked each other for a moment. Kiannadis and Myrokos were the only ones close to humans, except for their pointed ears. Both of them were considerably pale, except for Kiannadis, who had darker skin. Both hand glowing green eyes, and both with long black hair that went down to the middle of their backs. Myrokos wore blue chain-mail armor, and Kiannadis wore purple and red robes. The first three had assumed they would walk out together, but Tazroz had other plans.

"Where are you going, Tazroz?" Myrokos asked.

"I be scoutin' ahead, m'on. Me stealth abilities are why I'm here, y'know. And maybe aft'rwards I'll do some...." Tazroz looked at Kiannadis and winked. "Thievin'."

Tazroz disappeared laughing, leaving the other three there standing in shock. Kiannadis, of course, was the first to break the silence.

"Honorless slime..."

"Watch your mouth, Kiannadis," Myrokos said. "He's just as important to this mission as the rest of us..."

"Yes, and besides that," Lerzhus said as they started to walk away. "You don't have much more honor than he, Warlock. You study the lowest form of magic...not to mention the easiest..."

"Since when do you care, Undead? You're brought to life by the powers of darkness, so why should you care one way or the other?"

"I don't. It's just fun to annoy people..."

Lerzhus cackled, but the other two merely shook their heads. Myrokos didn't have a problem with either of them. In fact, he was happy to be working with them. But Kiannadis was so easily annoyed by everyone. The only person who didn't annoy him was Myrokos. In fact, Myrokos found Tazroz a little bit odd. Trolls usually hated every other race, even those of the Horde, to whom they are aligned with, but Tazroz seems different. Either that or it was just an act. Even Lerzhus wasn't sure. Kiannadis just didn't care; he had a deep seething hatred for Trolls. Then again, he viewed every race in the Horde, except for the Forsaken and Blood Elves, to be uncivilized. He never even bothered to hide it. The next day, his demeanor would not have improved.

Four horses had been prepared for their journey, along with supplies. The most direct route to the fortress was through the Dead Scar, but it was crawling with the undead minions of the Scourge. However, there was a road that cut through the Dead Scar that would take them to the Ghostlands, where they had decided to set up camp for the day to plan their attack. During the journey there, the four of them stayed completely silent. This was mainly because Myrokos had ordered them beforehand to stay quiet on the way there, unless they wanted to attract any unwanted visitors. While Kiannadis protested, saying that they could handle whatever came their way, Myrokos rationalized that he'd rather not risk word reaching Dar'Khan of their approach. When they were close to the area where they would setup their camp, he ordered Tazroz to venture ahead and clear out any wildlife. While he was out, he conversed with Kiannadis.

"Why do you have such a dislike for his race?"

"It's not just his race, Myrokos, it's his race, the Orcs, and the Taurens. They're all so uncivilized and primitive."

"Maybe so, but don't forget, it was our Prince that forged an alliance with them. If it weren't for that, we wouldn't stand a chance against the Scourge. At least try to tolerate them."

"And why should I, when the trolls don't tollerate us?"

"You're generalizing, Kiannadis. And don't forget, I'm the one who recommended you for this mission. I can just as easily send you back."

"You wouldn't dare, you need me."

"Just try me, Kiannadis...just try me..."

Before Kiannadis could respond, Tazroz returned. He held his dual swords, both of them bloodied. They all knew what that meant. The four of them unloaded their equipment, and made their way into the forest. They set up camp at the clearing they had decided on earlier, and each took turns taking watch for any incoming undead. In this particular instance, Kiannadis was especially helpful. Warlocks were able to sense demons, so in the rare case they were attacked by any such creature, they'd be ready. In between shifts, Lerzhus and Myrokos would work together to devise a strategy for attack.

Come dusk, they were all on edge. In the middle of one of Tazroz's watches, he reported back saying that there was a decrease in Undead patrolling the Dead Scar. Kiannadis also said that he could sense a few demons nearby. Knowing this, Myrokos kept his sword and shield nearby at all times, in case they were attacked. He wasn't prepared to lose anyone on this mission. By the time night fell, Lerzhus reported that there were no undead patrols nearby. Now that they were completely alone, Myrokos believed it the best time to discuss their strategy.

"In this mission, stealth and subtlety are all too important. Tazroz, this is where you come in. I want you to go in ahead of us, and eliminate any guards that might slow our progress. Can you do this?"

"You got it, m'on. They won't even sey us comin'."

"Good. Kiannadis will be on the offensive, and I'll be healing any damage. Lerzhus, you are to shield us with your magic. If anyone is in danger, you attack. Understood?"

"Of course...then again, I did go over this plan with you, didn't-"

Just then Lerzhus stopped for some reason. He yelled to take cover, then fired a pillar of flames out of his hands. He scorched and destroyed an Undead Soldier that was sneaking up behind Myrokos.

"We're not alone here...."

"Clearly," Myrokos replied, drawing his sword and shield. Kiannadis drew a short sword, Lerzhus his walking staff, and Tazroz his two swords. A deathly silence fell over their camp, each of them standing tense and ready to fight. When nothing happened, Myrokos ordered to fan out and search for anymore undead. The four of them returned and hour later, and reported that they found nothing. However, Tazroz had something different to report.

"I saw a hunch'd back undead with rottin' flesh hangin' off his bones. He was too close to da Dead Scar, so I didn't go aft'r 'im."

"A Gangled Cannibal...they're stupid, but extremely fast. No doubt that one was a scout, and he's returning to Dar'Khan to report what he saw."

An air of defeat loomed over the camp, each of them with ashamed looks on their faces. Except for Lerzhus, who sat on the ground with a slight scowl, as if he was thinking about something. More likely he was waiting for Myrokos to say something.

"Alright...our original plan has just been thrown out the window. Instead, we rush in and hope for the best. If we're going down, we're going to do it as brothers in arms. Now get some rest...and sleep with one eye open..."

They did sleep, but with both eyes closed. Or at least, all but two slept. Lerzhus and Myrokos stayed up to keep watch. When dawn was but three hours away, Lerzhus finally broke the silence.

"Myrokos, you should go get some rest. Your kind can't afford to lose it."

"No, Lerzhus. I can't sleep. Not because I don't want to, but because I can't. The silence before the storm is unbearable. Besides that, I can't help but wonder something..."

Another long silence followed afterwards. Myrokos scanned the landscape again, to make sure there were no undead approaching. He looked at Lerzhus, and he was doing the same thing. Every time Myrokos saw a shadow even twitch slightly, he thought it was an undead approaching. Usually it was just the wind blowing a branch. He convinced himself that he would have to calm down, or else he was going to go mad.

"Lerzhus...why does Kiannadis hate Tazroz and his kind so much? I can't make any sense of it."

"Well, believe it or not Myrokos, not all mages are as wise as the stories would lead you to believe; I don't have the answer. Then again, I don't really care. I don't have any feelings on the situation."

"Then you should be able to think clearly about this."

"Yes, you'd think that, but I lost my understanding of the humanoid mind long ago, Myrokos. I look at everything differently now. My outlook on life is as cold and shallow as my voice. If you want an answer, you'll have to think about it yourself."

Myrokos sighed and shook his head. He couldn't think clearly before the storm, so he went back to keeping watch. Lerzhus reached into his bag, and pulled out a loaf of bread and a lion-skin bottle of water. He offered them to Myrokos, to which he rejected, reasoning that they have touched undead hands.

"Now you see, you're just as prejudiced as Kiannadis. You assume that because they have touched undead hands, they are automatically dirty. Take some of your own advice, hypocrite..."

Myrokos laughed bitterly and took the bread and water. He took a bite of bread, and was surprised to find it was sweet. And the water was fresh as well. When he finished the meal, he wiped his hands off, and handed the water container back to Lerzhus. The rest of the night was long. Lerzhus and Myrokos sat there, unmoving, for three more hours. Once the sun rose, Tazroz and Kiannadis got out of their cots- except for Tazroz. He slept on the cold hard ground without any cot or blanket. Myrokos admired the fact that he was so in tune with nature, whereas Kiannadis thought of him as only an uncivilized brute. After an hour of preparation passed, the four of them set out. Myrokos stood at the front of the group, advising them to run fast and low. When they were almost near the entrance to the large fortress known as Deatholme, they were relieved to find out that there were only two guards- phantoms known as Eyes of Dar'Khan. Kiannadis instructed them to stand back, saying that he'd take care of the two of them. He began to chant in a demonic language, fire consuming his hands. After several seconds of chanting, he thrust his hands forward, and only silence followed. After a few seconds, several fireballs fell from the sky, obliterating the two phantoms and scorching the landscape. The four of them drew their equipment, then rushed into the fortress.

"Watch each others backs!" Myrokos ordered. "We're in enemy territory now; we're playing by their rules."

That they were. Only moments after they entered the large fortress, they were confronted by a patrol of undead known as Nerubis Guards. They were giant spider-like beasts that stood up on six legs, the seventh and eight legs used as claws to strike and tear at enemies. The patrol rushed at the four of them without warning. Kiannadis deflected a blow with his shield, then struck back with a stab to the Nerubis' chest. The guard screamed in retaliation, then lunged forward to bite him. He spun out of the way, and cut off one of his claws. Just as he was about to land the killing blow, a Nerubis snuck up behind him and nearly spelled certain doom. Then Myrokos heard a war-cry from Tazroz, and looked behind him to see Tazroz slashing away at the beast that almost destroyed him. Myrokos smiled then remembered he still had a beast of his own to kill. He turned around then chopped off the head, and turning to Tazroz, shouted, "Where's Lerzhus!"

"He be over 'der, m'on." He replied, jumping down from the slain beast and pointing behind him.

Lerzhus was busy fending off an attacker of his own. He was hurling fireballs at the guard, and when it looked like he had enough Lerzhus rose his hands above his head, and a giant fireball began to form.

"Begone wretched beast- AGH!!"

Lerzhus was hit in the chest and was sent flying backwards by the Nerubis, canceling out his channeled magic. With inhuman speed, Tazroz ran over and caught Lerzhus before he fell to the ground. He set him down on his feet, then rushed towards the guard. He pulled out two throwing knives, then threw them at either shoulder. The beast cried out in pain as they sunk into his rotting flesh, unable now to use his claws. Just as he was about to hack away at him, several bolts of black fire struck and destroyed the beast. Tazroz and Lerzhus saw Kiannadis smirking; clearly he was the one who had cast the dark spells that dealt the killing blow.

Myrokos pulled his blade out of another Nerubis guard, then ran over to the other three. Pointing to a large spire in the center of the fortress, he said, "That's where our target is. I have no doubt we'll run into some resistance along the way. Lerzhus, Kiannadis, stay behind me and Tazroz. We'll clear a path to the spire."

The four of them ran as fast as they could, Tazroz and Myrokos quickly taking out any resistance. They stopped at the entrance to the spire, and quietly slipped inside. They didn't know what awaited them, so they agreed that entering quietly would be the best idea. They stopped at the last gateway, and crouched down. Myrokos informed them that Dar'Khan was just beyond here. He poked his head out, and reported that there were four undead soldiers guarding him. Each of them wore armor plating and wielded two-handed swords.

"Don't worry," Kiannadis said. "I can take care of them. The rest of you can take care of Dar'Khan while I do away with his guards."

Kiannadis told them to take a few steps back, then he started to chant in demonic again. The transformation he was undergoing was horrific. He slowly grew from 5'10" to 6'9" in no time. His muscles quickly expanded, tearing through most of his robing. He sprouted hair, his head quickly taking on the form of a wolf. His back sprouted bat wings, and his hands became the claws of a werewolf. He emerged from the entrance, and Dar'Khan was clearly shocked.

"What the- guards, attack!"

The guards never really stood a chance. In his demon form, Kiannadis ripped them to shreds in a display of indescribable demonic rage. Since the other three were too shocked to join in, Kiannadis turned to face Dar'Khan. But before he had the chance to attack, he was hit by a shadowy bolt of fire, and sent flying back into a wall. The impact forced him out of his demon form, and was left unconscious. Suddenly, the other three were released from their state of shock. Myrokos ran in, and shouted as he charged.

"Eat this, Dar'Khan!"

He swung at the dark wizard several times, each time the strike was avoided. Upon avoiding a horizontal swing, Dar'Khan released a dark bolt of fire at him, and sent him flying backwards as well. While he was momentarily distracted, Lerzhus launched an ice bolt at him, nearly freezing him in place, but instead merely slowing him. Lerzhus gave what appeared to be a wicked smile, and sent several bolts of fire at Dar'Khan. Each bolt was deflected with black fire of his own. Lerzhus ran forward, his skeletal hands now ablaze with fire. He swung at Dar'Khan, as if to cut him like an animal. In actuality, this was just a distraction. In the middle of the fight, while invisible, Tazroz snuck up behind Dar'Khan, waiting for the right time to strike. The right time was now. Lerzhus had managed to nearly claw his eyes out and almost tore into his chest when Dar'Khan had let out a gasp of shock. He looked down and saw two swords sticking out of his chest. He looked behind him, and saw Tazroz chuckling slightly.

"Gotcha, m'on."

Just then Myrokos and Kiannadis started to get up, but Kiannadis was the slower of the two. Dar'Khan looked and noticed this, and with his last defiant breath, uttered his last words.

"You will pay for this...Horde scum..."

With the last of his energy, he released a black fire bolt at Kiannadis. Everything seemed to happen at once. Kiannadis saw the bolt coming at him, and prepared to slip into the eternal sleep known as death. Expecting to feel death's embrace, he was surprised to see Tazroz stumble to the floor in front of him, black flames consuming his entire body.

"He took the blow for me..." Kiannadis uttered in a shocked tone. He was in such utter shock, that he didn't even hear Myrokos shout in terror and surprise. He was so distracted that he didn't even notice Lerzhus pull one of the swords out of Dar'Khan's chest, and chop off his head with cold indifference. The only thing he could think was this: He gave his life...to save me. After all the terrible things I said...after all the terrible things I thought! He....he never hated me. He never hated our race. He was different...and he actually cared. He saved me...

That's all he could think on the quiet ride back to Silvermoon City. When they gave the Battlemaster the head and he asked what happened, Myrokos gave the report, and asked that scouts be sent to Deatholme to retrieve the body. A few hours the scouts came back and reported that the body could not be found. Myrokos could only pinch the bridge of his nose as he held back tears of disappointment and shame, and the same went for Kiannadis. The sacrifice completely changed him, but Lerzhus, being the cold and indifferent Forsaken that he was, had no feelings on the matter. All he had to say was that Tazroz was a fine fighter and Rogue, and that it was a pleasure working with him. He left the other two to grieve, and he returned to his home of Brill in Tirisfal Glades. He went to the Gallow's End Inn, and ordered a mug of beer.

"Y'know...." Lerzhus said to himself. "Everything kind of tastes bitter in unlife..."

"You're tellin' me, m'on."

Lerzhus, for the first time in his unlife, was actually surprised. He turned his head, and saw Tazroz, but he wasn't Tazroz. His flesh was rotting, his eyes were glowing yellow, and his bones were showing. Quickly remembering where he was and who he was, he returned to his apathetic disposition.

"Well...I see you escaped the Lich King's grip, Tazroz. Nice to know your will was strong enough to resist."

"Yes, I'm a bit surprised meself, ma' friend."

"I'm surprised you sacrificed your life, Tazroz. You do realize Kiannadis hated you, correct?"

"Yes, I know. But still, he deserved to live. A fine member of da Horde, if I do say so meself. Besides...."

Tazroz laughed and picked up a slice of bread, then chewed slowly and bitterly.

"At least now he doesn't need to taste bread bitterly."