"Jaeques," his mistress called temptingly.
The flow of undead slithered by unheard outside.
"Jaeques Sabtuer, where are you?" she called again.
The undead stopped at her doorstep. They found an unopened letter on her porch. Thinking of a way to trick what they thought was an exceptional hunter, they had the most recently turned, at least one that hadn't shown much sign of death yet, a elderly black man, answer the door to deliver the message.
Knock, knock. She answered the door. With the group unseen, the man held out the letter to the woman. "I believe this belongs to you," he said.
Her face softened, as if seeing a familiar person. "Jaeques! Quit playing games with me!" she told him, dragging him inside. Without another thought, she closed the door and placed the letter aside. Pressing up against the man, the woman decided to bare her skin. The undead man stalled for time, and after a moment, the rest of the group burst into the house. "Jaeques?" she asked, confused.
"Formerly," the man told her, and gave her the letter again. With a bit of hesitance, she opened and read the Notice of Death, which upon finishing, fainted.
I remember the scene of the last moment I was really alive day in and day out, before I was brought before my new master, Banshee Queen Sylvanas Windrunner, and fully turned into a member of the undead. Unlike Hollywood's movies, it was a pleasant life for me, despite my hand in others' blood, experimenting on them as an undead doctor in the Royal Apothecary Society, as well as a warlock in the service of her majesty. Eventually, I was renamed as Jaeques Mist-Killer, or Mytklr for short.
After nearly fifty-odd years in her service, I met the rouge blood elf Ashlian Menethil, who, despite her traitorous actions, had assisted in defeating both Kael'Thas Sunstrider and, after being engaged and took his last name, Arthras Menethil, the Lich King.
Despite these actions of heroics, she had the Death sentence on her head, and had she not been revered in most of the factions in the opposing Alliance, she would have died. But outsiders to our world interfered, and they passively forced the Horde to make a Treaty of Peace with the Alliance, and Ashlian was spared. However, Ash found that she could no longer live in the magic ridden region of her homeland, and could not be fully admitted back into service under Regent Lord Lor'Themar Theron, and therefore was put under the Banshee Queen's service, as did one of the outsiders named Saikun Volker Saxon, or as we called him now, Sai.