I do not own WoW, nor do I claim to. Now, to the story : )

Prologue

"Look man, all I'm saying is that you should of went with that waitress back there," Turun said.

"First off, need I remind you of your rank, young paladin? And secondly, what makes you think I didn't?" Namus said, a very sly grin across his face.

"Oh so you do have a bad side," the third one and youngest in the party, Faelen, said.

"I don't know what you're talking about, all I said was that I went on a walk with her," Namus said, trying to keep a straight face.

The three of them were on a mission to head in to the northern Quel'thalas to monitor the Blood Elven activity, as far as how much progress was being made in the Ghostlands, and then head even farther north for more scout work. They were currently in the shadow of Stratholm, and only a short distance from their intended destination.

Namus led the team, as he was the eldest, a man of his early thirties. He was a paladin, just as the rest of them, who specialized in retribution, and was damn good at what he did, one of the best. He kept his beard in a neat black goatee, but never let his hair grow, every day he trimmed it to keep it in check. With his deep blue eyes, he was quite the looker for the ladies.

The other two were two paladins, fresh out of training in their early twenties. Turun Ironshield specialized in protection, while Faelen was the healer. The two of them had been best friends since their first day of training, and had a bond like no other healer and tank in the world. Turun was the taller, stronger built of the two, he chose to let his hair hang loosely around his shoulders. Faelen chose to keep his dark brown hair neatly trimmed, but not as short as Namus'.

They had been riding nonstop when Namus gave the order to let their mounts rest, "We are roughly ten miles from the old gates into Quel'Thalas, take a break and stretch you're legs. We leave in an hour," he said, slowing to a halt.

Turun dismounted and tied his horse to a low branch, "Hey capt, what the hell are we supposed to report? That the blood elves are doing just dandy, and will not need an extra push from the humans?" he paused, "I mean, come on, what do we care what happens to them?"

"We care," Namus said, getting off his horse and tying it to the same branch, "Because while Garithos successfully destroyed relations with them, we still want them to hold Quel'Thalas, to survive"

"But they fight against us now! Why would we want to help them?" Turun said, raising his voice.

Namus got angry. He grabbed Turun by the chest, "Look, regardless of the mission, I want to where your head is. If you have so much of a sliver of a doubt, then I suggest you put it aside," he said, releasing him, "You two are my soldiers, my comrades, and most importantly, my friends, and I won't have you second guessing yourself and winding up dead."

"I am sorry," Turun said, walking off into the underbrush, "I am going to scout, and clear my mind. I will be back soon," he called over his shoulder.

Faelen decided to write in the journal he carried while he and Namus laid down in the shade of the trees.

Namus shut his eyes and tried to get a quick nap when Turun came running through the trees, "Sir, it's the undead, they have a small raid party heading north."

"And let me guess, they are headed this way?" Namus replied.

"Aye, they are about five minuets behind me, they outnumber us five to one," Turun said, "We have to ride, now!"

"Alright, lets-" he was cut off by an arrow that was shot in between the two, barely missing them.

"Undead Archers!" Faelen yelled, slapping his journal closed, he picked up his mighty healing mace.

"Go Turun, I have your back!" Namus said, drawing his blade. Turun ran at them, throwing up his seal of the crusader and righteous fury spells. The undead archer quickly fell to the ground as Turun slashed its head off.

Faelen took his position in the back throwing up heals whenever a blade would break through the two paladin's incredibly powerful offence. Namus charged his seal of command and felt the holy energy course through his veins, making his swings twice as strong as they were. Once, an undead tried to parry his attack but was destroyed when his arms shattered from the impact.

Turun on the other hand, was slashing so fast with his seal of the crusader, that it was attracting almost all the attention. Two undead would come at him, swords in hand, but before either could get an attack off, Turun would slash them both down. "How many of them are there, Faelen?" he yelled.

"I don't know, they just-" he was cut off when the arrow hit him in the throat.

"What the, Namus, take over healing!" Turun shouted, seeing his friend go down. He looked at the one responsible but was stunned to see that it was a living human, "Come here you treacherous bastard!"

Namus took two steps back and watched as the archer turned his sights to Turun, and fired, missing his head by inches. Turun kept the mad charge three more steps before he got off the next shot, this one far more accurate. The arrow hit Turun right in the shoulder, just under the shoulder plate, "Ah!" Turun yelled in pain, and fell to the ground from the impact.

Namus was quick to get off a flash of light that nullified the pain, but didn't stop it completely. The human saw this and cast spell that temporarily cut off Namus's spell casting.

Turn got up, and continued his mad charge, only to be cut down by another arrow, as the undead swarmed around him, "Go to hell, you bastards!" he said, casting a consecration that burned all the nearest ones to dust, but successfully drained him of his remaining mana. Instantly, more filled the gap and devoured the young man alive.

Namus regained his ability to cast spells as the silence wore off, and charged with the most powerful seal of command he could muster, but before he could take two steps, an arrow slammed in to his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He pulled himself back up on a nearby tree. "You scum will all rot in hell someday, a pity I couldn't kill more of you," he said, his vision starting to fade from loss of blood.

The man ordered the undead to part for him to walk to Namus. "And a pity I can't kill you more than once," he taunted, "Oh, wait. I can. And I will," he said, glaring at Namus. "You will suffer like no one else for trespassing in my lands and attempting to halt my invasion."

"Invasion?" Namus questioned, "Oh, you mean to invade the Ghostlands. Sorry," he said, "But don't worry, I'm sure it wouldn't have made it very far anyway."

The man kneed him in the stomach, "And you, paladin, even in death, wish to taunt me? Oh, this will be fun. Perhaps we will even raise your tank, or at least what's left of him, to kill you first."

Namus coughed and tasted blood. "You wouldn't dare," he said, staring at the Necromancer.

"Oh but I would, and I shall," he said, turning to look at the mass of undead fighting to get a taste of Turun's corpse. He muttered something in a language foreign to Namus, and they all scattered, leaving the half eaten paladin to rot. The man chuckled, raising his hands, he said something else in the odd language, his hands shone bright green as the corpse began to twitch. "Odd, usually they jump right up," he said under his breath, finally Turun stood.

Namus had never seen a more hideous undead, Turun had bite marks all over him, particularly on his face. His entire left cheek was missing, along with most of that side of his head, blood dripped in a puddle below him. "Now," the necromancer said, "kill him."

Namus was appalled as Turun tried to walk, with each step something else popped or squished. "Turun, I'm so sorry," Namus said, charging his seal of command, he unleashed its full power and successfully destroyed what was left of his fallen comrade.

"What the," the man said, angrily, "How dare you ruin my fun!" He turned to Evese and strung an arrow, "Any last words?"

"Yeah, go to hell," Namus said, bracing for impact. It never came. The man screamed in agony as an arrow protruded from his shoulder, and released his arrow off into the air.

He stumbled back away from Namus and gave the order to attack the intruders, "Go! Feast on their corpses!"

That was about the time Namus blacked out.