Author's Note:

Ah, yeah. This isn't my first story, but it is my first fanfic. Please enjoy!

*bows*

Disclaimer:

The backdrop story is not mine at all, as such are areas such as Tirisfal Glades, Lordaeron, etc. all of it belong to the creators of World of Warcraft, Blizzard Co.

Although, the characters I have created, are indeed mine…

Tales of a Drunken Corpse

The sky was a strange ominous gray, an almost never ending twilight so to speak. In the distant horizon, the outline of an ancient great monastery stood out against the lunar moon. And a lone corpse sat on the outskirts of the monastery in Tirisfal Glades. Her armor shone red in the setting moonlight, and her black spear grasped loosely in her boney hands.

"Sarias, how goes your watch?"

The sitting corpse turned her head, and came upon a Deathguard through the visor of her helm. She had an urge to hiss at the new recruit, but held back. Even the smallest forms of civility such as kind Hello were rare amongst her people.

"The only eventful thing that occurred was two Orcs that passed by; glaring at me…"

The Deathguard smiled cheerfully, her voice so strangely chipper even after death.

"No worries Sarias, I'm sure you'll find something to stab and rip to shreds sooner or later."

Yes…much sooner if this sorry excuse for a Forsaken Deathguard doesn't leave me be!

"Anyways," continued the Deathguard, "I'm heading back to Brill to report back to the High Executive, do you want me to get you a drink?"

"No thank you. Just, go and have fun or whatever you damn do in your spare time…"

Giggling, the Deathguard only agreed and skipped off to whatever crypt she crawled out of. Sarias shuddered at the thought of her being the one to guide her when she awakened from her death. It was just too awful for her to think about. So to forget, she reached into her cloak and pulled out a hip flask, containing the potent Darkmoon Reserves. She had spent nearly a fortune during the last Darkmoon Faire, stocking up all on their infamous drink.

Taking a swig through the crack of her helm's visor, Sarias already began feeling the woozy effects of the drink. A strange warm, fuzzy feeling stimulating her belly, and within moments, a hiccup escaped her lipless mouth. A smile came upon her as she felt the need for another sip. She knew she shouldn't have taken it, but then again, boredom, tipsiness, and her sheer addiction to the liquor forced her to continue. And in no time, she was drunk enough to be unfit of any form of interaction.

"Ho! Warrior!"

The drunken Sarias looked up and squinted across from where she sat. It was a human. No, a priest in fact, striding up to her with a grin plastered over his face.

"Warrior, are you going to enter the Scarlet Monastery?" He asked in Common.

Sarias was confused at first. Didn't the human realize she was a Forsaken? Was it her heavy armor, or her cloak? She shrugged, too drunk to really care.

"Nope, wash just drinking mah Reserves. Want shum?" Her Common alone would have been enough, but her slurring just had to catch the Priest's worry.

"You shouldn't be drunk and out here in Tirisfal Glades, the Forsaken and Scarlet Crusaders aren't below taking advantage of an attractive woman such as yourself."

She could have sworn she felt herself blush at the comment, true her flesh was far less rotted from an average Forsaken, but it wasn't enough for her to be called attractive, let alone blush.

"Sit down shen. Have a ~hic~ drink wish meh…"

The Priest hesitated, looking up towards his objective, the Monastery, and then back at the hand offering the flask of Darkmoon Reserve. Ultimately, he chose to sit by her, and take a few sips of the drink.

"Wash yur name?" Sarias asked.

The priest's face was a tad bit pink after his first sipped from the flask. "Oh, uh, it's Merander, Merander Runeheal."

"I'm Sariash…~hic~ Nice to meetsh you…"

"Sarias…" the priest said, focusing and taking another sip from the flash.

For Sarias, she began examining the priest, Merander. He wasn't like other humans she had met in the past, the adult humans anyways. Merander was surprisingly young, and unlike the priests she had met in the past, he was much skinnier than usual. So Sarias began poking Merander's arms, getting his attention.

"You really ish young, are you really a ~hic~ priest?"

By now, Merander was also more than tipsy from the strong drink, but sane enough to intelligently respond. "I'm just as competent as the other Priests. I just am more…more…into the Holy Light than, than…"

But before Merander could finish, he keeled over Sarias as his eyes glazed over. Quick to react, Sarias grabbed the unfinished flask mid-air before it spilled any of her precious liquid. She looked at the limp Priest completely intoxicated from just a few sips of her drink. She had a distinct feeling that this one was green in more ways than one.

"Merander…~hic~…" she rolled the name off her tongue. For some reason, she liked it, and more so ever in her drunken state, she decided to take him home as her pet.

Grabbing the boy by the collar of his robes, the drunken warrior somewhat dragged him towards to the ruins of Lordaeron.

***

The second he woke up, Merander regretted it. As he tiredly opened his eyes, he was struck by an immense headache.

"Wha…What happened…" he slowly opened his eyes to analyze his surroundings. Much to his dismay, it seemed like he walked straight into a crypt. Getting up from the crude bed of straws and blankets, Merander tried to remember what happened.

There was the young woman he met by the Monastery, the drunken warrior. He accepted a drink from her, and discovered her name to be Sarias…

Beyond that Merander couldn't remember.

"You awake?"

Merander turned to face the source of the voice; it was bound to be Sarias, the warrior. His eyes widened. Standing before him, was a bluish Forsaken woman, her glowing eyes piercing into him.

"Wa-wait, y-you're…?"

Sarias, not bothering to let him finish, thrusted a wooden bucket into his arms, her violet hair was a rumpled mess, as if she were sick the previous night.

"Don't go vomiting in my place. I brought you here so it's my own damn fault, but I sure as hell ain't going to clean up after you…"

Moving passed the dumbstruck priest; Sarias flopped down on her bed, groaning as she placed a bony hand over her eyes.

Merander blushed at the sight of her. Sarias may be an undead, but she at least should have had the courtesy to put on some pants. In nothing but a shirt, and her underwear, he could see nearly every bit of her body.

"If you're going to stare than do without the dumbstruck expression, it looks like you're a boy who just saw his first naked woman…"

Merander turned away, his face blushing some more. "W-why did you-?"

Sarias cut him off. "Kidnap you? I didn't, I was just so drunk yesterday I believe I thought of turning you into a pet of some sort…not that I want to anymore that is."

Putting the vomit-filled bucket aside, Merander replied, "Well then, if you have no use of me, I'll be taking my lea-"

But again, before he could finish, the Forsaken woman got up as quickly as she lay down, and thrust the disoriented priest into the bed. Grabbing the priest by the collar of his robe, she glared down at him.

"I may not want you here now, but I sure as hell don't want you to be seen by my fellow Forsaken. Its morning now and I doubt that the ruins of Loraderon are empty of their usual Orcs, Trolls, and Tauren travelers, even less so with my Forsaken brethren and Blood Elf neighbors."

The priest, now nearly in tears by her rage nodded his head furiously.

"Good!" The Forsaken threw him back onto the bed again. "And I sure don't want to leave you alone up here either, so don't expect me to leave you alone."

"Up here?" Merander asked innocently, the fear gone from his voice that one moment.

"Oh yeah, I live in one of the abandoned towers of Lordaeron. Gives me some peace and quiet from the more hectic life below ground…"

Looking around, Merander found Sarias' answer to be true. A lone window just across the room, revealed the distant hills, and a shadowy outline of the Monastery he was to travel to.

"Anyways, I doubt a priest of your level could survive all on your own." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Sarias went besides Merander to lie down. "If you so much as touch an inkbottle, I'll have your head hanging off my windowsill," she smiled malevolently at the priest. "Goodnight…"

It was a dream he thought. It must be some horrible delusion, or phantasm from the drink he took from that lone warrior by the Monastery.

The headache in Merander's head began to take a turn for the worse. He was forced to calm down, and lay down beside the Forsaken, Sarias.

She'll kill me once I'm asleep… Merander thought. The horrifying stories of the history books and lore began swirling in his mind. The horrors of the Scourge, destruction of Lordaeron, Que'thalas, the mental images came back to him.

Looking besides him, Merander was shocked to suddenly see a bluish arm reach for him; he opened his mouth in fear, but quickly closed it when Sarias only rolled closer to him.

A red blush graced the priest's face, although his fear abated a little when he saw how pleasant the Forsaken looked. Her decomposed joints, and back seemingly the only thing that truly made her look undead; besides her glowing eyes and bluish skin, give or take the few small stitches found here and there, she seemed relatively normal.

Yeah right. A thought interrupted him. This woman is no more normal than you wandering the Scourge infested Tirisfal Glades all on your own.

At that moment, Sarias moved her body a tad bit closer to Merander. His eyes widened in despair. It didn't matter if she was a Forsaken or Human, if any woman awoke with their arms wrapped around him, they'd start strangling him to death. And with the violent temper Sarias revealed just minutes ago, he was sure to have his head hanging from her windowsill.

"Stop fidgeting…"

Merander stopped whatever panic attack he was having, and look down at Sarias. Her glowing eyes were looking up to his, in annoyance, but not rage.

"S-Sarias?" Was all Merander was able to mutter.

"You baby. Stop your stuttering and talk like a normal creature…" she tightened her grip around Merander's waist.

"H-hey, what're you doing!?

"I just recalled," Sarias continued, "on why I wanted to have you as a pet."

It took the priest a moment to register what she had just said, and in response, he swallowed a lump in his throat.

Sarias on the other hand, continued. "When you collapsed on me, and I took you back to here, you were…muttering a lot of things about me…"

If there was ever a time in Merander's life that he truly, truly wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, it would be now. Together in bed with a Forsaken woman, telling him what he said about her, while he was drunk.

"You said things like, how kind I was, or how pretty I was. You even went as far to attempt to grope me in your drunken state…"

Her arm moved upwards towards Merander's cheek, he nervously twitched as she touched him, awaiting the fabled icy cold touch of an Undead. But it never came, his eyes fluttered open and he realized that a cool, smooth hand was caressing his cheek.

Sarias smiled, it wasn't a malevolent smile like before, but it had mischief and some form of deviousness that made the priest worrisome.

"You know, Merander, a Forsaken rarely gets the chance to be called those things... That and you're really cute when you're uncomfortable. I think I will keep you as a pet…"

"Wait a minute! I ca-"

She placed a cool sharp finger to his lips, her smile not once leaving her dead lips.

Almost instantly, she grasped the priest's robes and pulled them over his head. But for some reason, Merander neither screamed, nor flailed in an attempt to stop her.

"Oho, what's this? Has our holy priest succumbed to my undeathly charms?"

His face an intense red, Merander didn't respond. This made Sarias even more excited.

"So you are enjoying this, aren't you?!"

In Sarias' mind, Merander was far too young and inexperienced to have been alone yesterday. More or less he lost his way from a traveling caravan or adventure party. But then again, Finders Keepers was an old motto for her as a child, why should it stop now when she finds something she likes?

"So, Merander, do you like me?" Innocent question enough, since Merader was a priest, she hoped he didn't take offense.

But instead, the priest simply stared off to the side, not answering the question. This made Sarias even happier. He didn't say yes, but he sure as hell didn't say no, and being Sarias, she put the answer in Merander's mouth.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

And before Merander could protest, she slipped his pants off, and proceeded to claim him as hers.

***

Sarias awoke that night, the dark evening was already upon them. Besides her, Merander quietly slept, smiling in his sleep. It caused Sarias to nearly giggle.

Sarias felt a tad bit guilty kidnapping the priest, and turning him into her pet. But then again, she really didn't give a damn. She was just happy having him.

A smile graced her as she recounted the events just before she fell asleep. If her heart hadn't stopped beating, she knew it would have swelled with excitement as she came to the disturbing realization. If she wasn't careful, Merander could easily obtain control over her in bed. She blushed at the thought of her new lover being forceful on her, it made her strangely excited.

She caressed her priest's cheek. In due time, he would realize his potential, and if ever she grew impatient, she knew of an alchemist who could be of some assistance. Just as her smile widened, Merander awoke from his slumber. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at Sarias with confusion.

"Sarias, is there something wrong?"

"Yes, there is in fact something wrong Merander." The widened smile was making him nervous.

"S-Sarias, please, we just did it. You may not be alive, but I ca-"

Sarias, ignoring Merander's cries for mercy, continued on to drain her pet.

End Note:

Constructive criticism and replies would be nice, please. And no flaming as well…

Thank you very much, and please enjoy.