Just a few warnings before anyone decides to read this story just in case ya'll are weird and decide not to read the full description. This story will most likely be very gory, I plan for it to be so it most likely will be. It will also contain a lot of macabre humor. This story is mostly centered around my DK Nylilaeth and a lot of the things I say will most likely not be completely true, this does not mean that I will be creating gaps in lore, there may be a few but that is because of my ignorance on certain subjects and will never be intentional, should you ever find one point it out to me if you would like and I'll make sure to fix it.

I do not own World of Warcraft I only own a few select characters. I will only do this for this chapter and if I get sued, hey it was stated before ya read it.

The warrior walked along slowly, looking around cautiously for any sign of danger. Behind her her sister tiredly kept in step, whining and complaining quietly, just enough for Nylilaeth to hear. She didn't particularly care for escort duty assigned by her mother, it offered no reward and got her to places she's already been, but of course after much insistence and the constant 'I-gave-birth-to-you' getting thrown into her face her complaints gradually receded into her own mental complaining. She offered no ill-will towards her siblings, aside from some of the mental torture from their adolescence she maintained very good relationships with both, while some mental nit-picking happened every once in a while, those days were far and few in between.

Her ears detected movement to her left, her hand flew to the large sword and axe strapped to her back. Her sister stopped dead, shuffling to stand behind Nylilaeth as her lavender face went unusually pale. An infected squirrel came hobbling out of a bush slowly, its fur a sickly green with splotches of fur missing. Nylilaeth sneered, sheathing her weapons and pressing forward with an annoyed huff. Her sister scrambled to keep up with her trembling legs, attempting to get over the quick wave of fear that washed over her. The Eastern Plaguelands was no ones favorite place, between the undead running rampant and the horrible stench, the plague-stricken land was easily the most hated between the sisters.

"You need to slow down, I'm having a hard time keeping up!" Her sister quietly called out, one must never be too loud here in fear of something unpleasant desiring a snack.

"You worry too much, Elfy."

Nylilaeth felt the glare without turning and briefly wondered if she'd have to yank an arrow out of her back.

"Slow down, Lil."

Nylilaeth spun on her heel and glared up at her little sister, "Just because I'm not over seven feet tall like all of you giants doesn't make me small! I'm one inch short of being seven feet tall and you know it!" Her voice escalated to a near shout, her sisters hands came out to quiet her down but every shush just fueled the fire. An odd gurgling noise emanating from nearby silenced her very quickly.

Eflea looked towards the direction of the noise with a look of horror on her face. Nylilaeth quickly drew her weapons as a single ghoul with no lower half pulled itself towards them.

Nylilaeth laughed heartily, the sound resounding more than she was aware of. She gestured to the pathetic creature with her axe. "Look at it, that little thing kicking up a big fuss. Man, I can't wait to tell an'da how his fierce huntress almost peed in her little leather pants over The Little Ghoul That Couldn't!"

Eflea scowled and shot the poor thing in the head, seeing as how her sister was too busy trying to suffocate herself with laughter. She retrieved her arrow quickly, wincing as it slid out with no issue.

Eflea turned to her sister, complaints on the tip of her tongue before she saw that her sisters laughter had attracted quite the crowd.

"Il... Ilisar!" Eflea choked out, catching the attention of Nylilaeth a split second too late.

The dead pounced on her, pinning her to the ground with unnatural strength. She rolled onto her back as fast as she could and held back the snapping jaws to the best of her ability. She berated herself for having decided laughing in a place like this was a good idea. She kicked her foot out and tripped a ghoul that was shambling its way towards Eflea, all the while maintaining an excellent grip on the ghouls head above her.

She gritted her teeth as a geist started scraping its claws against her leg armor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her sister, standing against a tree seemingly frozen with fear. Her heart pounded as rage and adrenaline fueled her.

"Run now, idiot! I'll-" Her sentence was cut off as the ghoul snapped its jaws inches away from her nose, she put more force into holding its head back, "Just follow the path, I'll catch up later!"

Eflea startled, and nodded before running down the path towards the camp they were headed to. She knew her sister would manage to get out of it, she's been in much tougher spots. Hell, she saw her wrestle a gorilla in Strangelthorn once! A few ghouls should be a walk in the park for her.

The ghoul atop her quickly switched its attention to the fleeing huntress, it slipped out of Nylilaeth's grip and swiftly shambled after the bright green braid.

Nylilaeth's hand shot out and grabbed the ghouls ankle, causing the ghould to fall on its unfortunate face, "Nuh-uh, I may not have a shield but that doesn't mean I can't take some damn hits."

Her hand reached out to grab the axe that had fallen not to far from her and cut the ghouls head off in one swift motion before shaking the geist off her leg. Her foot came down onto the geist's head with a powerful stomp, effectively squishing it.

Nylilaeth sighed through her nose, her eyes closing as exhaustion swept over her. Walking for two days in heavy plate with two giant weapons strapped to her back was never her idea of fun. She surveyed the area, she saw no sign of the ghoul she had tripped earlier so she assumed he had fled back to wherever he came. She deemed the area safe with a nod of her head.

Her legs collapsed under her, her upper body coming to rest on her axe. She promised herself she'd retrieve her sword in a moment, but honestly she could stand to rest for a moment. She gently took her pauldrons off, inspecting the nasty bruises she got from the little scuffle. The ugly purple marks marred her pretty pink skin and cause her to huff. She pulled her bag off from belt and started digging through, looking for the medical supplies she knew she packed – someplace, I mean really how many bags did she bring? - an oddly... furry feeling something brushed across her exposed right shoulder, it didn't fully register what this meant until a burning feeling overcame her shoulder and most of her neck.

Nylilaeth now knows what it feels like to have no throat.

–

The necromancers looked at the scene in front of them with slight wonder in their eyes, a ghoul missing one foot was presenting a dead night elf of all things to their king!

The ghoul simply radiated pride, its unhinged jaw loudly stated barely intelligible words. "Momma! Gift!" It said to the large man adorned in an impressive suit of armor.

The man looked to the elf with a large chunk of flesh missing then back to the ghoul. A booming voice surrounded the area, the icy winds of the north seemingly laced with every word.

"And how exactly did you come to acquire this... Gift?" He said eloquently, pronouncing every word clearly.

"Gift laugh, almost two gifts! Bonebreak lose foot, and Gob and Ribmunch not live, but ok because Bonebreak is best!" Bonebreak wobbled on its lone foot, shouting the sentence to his 'momma' as best he could.

"I thank you for this gift, leave now." The ghoul faithfully bounced away, back to the pit where he would hopefully get a new foot.

The man gazed down at the dead elf at his feet, bleeding all over the floor. "You will make an excellent addition..." He turned and left to go elsewhere, sure that his minions would know what he wished.

The necromancers that had no previous engagements scrambled to fulfill the silent order.