Disclaimer: I don't own Warcraft, Blizzard does, despite my numerous threatening letters.
"What is the next order of business for today, Varimathras?" asked Sylvanas, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken.
The Dark Lady, as some called her, shot a quick warning glare at the large, winged form of her Dread lord majordomo. Her gaze said simply, this had better not involve the Forsaken's allies. Varimathras inwardly grimaced, the news he had might not concern the orcs and their other bestial allies but it had to do with something of almost equal annoyance, the Scarlet Crusade. The Dread lord waved to a servant who had been lurking around the throne room for this moment. The robed Forsaken handed Sylvanas several pieces of paper marked with the royal seal. Sylvanas snatched the papers from him and leafed through them. The robed servant stepped back and returned to whatever duties he had.
"We have received a report, which you are holding, from one of our spies in the Western Plaguelands." began Varimathras.
"The one spying on the crusaders, correct?" interrupted Sylvanas, "Durnholde, I believe his name is."
Varimathras gritted his teeth and continued on, "As milady said, the report is indeed from Deathguard Durnholde. In it are various troop movements and goings-ons at their citadel, what we usually see from him. But it appears he has stumbled upon a particularly important piece of information." With this said Varimathras paused and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the Dark Lady, "I trust her majesty remembers the paladin Uther Lightbringer?"
Sylvanas set the paper down on a table next to her throne and flicked one hand dismissively. "Yes I remember him. A fairly reasonable sort for a human but a bit righteous. I believe Arthas killed him before he came to Silvermoon. What does this have to do about him?"
"Durnholde was able to capture a crusader who had wandered off his assigned patrol route after darkness fell and interrogated the hapless human. He has learned that a powerful artifact has come into the possession of the Scarlet Crusade. Before dying, the soldier said that a team of crusaders had recovered Uther's holy spell book. Apparently the leaders of the crusade believe that they can use the divine magic of the book in their war against all undead."
"Interesting. It would seem in our best interest to get rid of this book. But why is this such an important matter that it needed to be brought before me?" Asked Sylvanas as she lifted one eyebrow in Varimathras' direction.
The Dread lord drew in a deep breath and continued. "Master Apothecary Faranell learned of this report some time ago," Sylvanas' eyes narrowed and Varimathras raised a hand in a placating gesture, "I have already issued orders to find out who has leaked this information to Faranell before it reached your ears. As it is, though, the leak seems to have done some good. Master Faranell has sent a firmly worded letter saying that the book should not be destroyed."
"I should like to see this letter." Said Sylvanas, her tone icy.
"Of course, how forgetful of me." Said Varimathras as he handed an ornately written letter to the Queen. As Sylvanas looked it over, Varimathras continued.
"The letter says that the book may have a use in developing a new plague. Faranell says that because Uther was in such distress when he died, betrayed by his most promising student, that his negative feelings permuted his spell book. On their own, those emotions could not change the essence of what is a book of good. But with the proper spells and the right materials, Faranell says he can corrupt Uther's last legacy and use it to further our goals."
"His idea has merit." Said Sylvanas, not looking up from the Master Apothecary's letter. "Set one of our best agents on the task. One that has much experience fighting these humans and is not afraid to go unsupported into enemy territory."
"I believe I have one already in mind. He has successfully passed the Ritual of Rebirth and is a powerful warlock." Varimathras tapped a finger on his leg, "I believe he goes by the name of Ghoul."
(Scene shift)
The red robed undead prodded the corpse of the mutated bat on the table in front of him with a scalpel. He examined the inside of its sliced open chest and jotted down notes on the paper on a smaller wheeled table next to him.
"The demonic possession has caused the heart to grow larger and the stomach to shrink." He muttered as he wrote, "Presumably the new creature would require less food and be capable of going into the trademark demonic rages more often then a normal demonic animal."
Alexander Brassard, known as 'Ghoul' by his allies and his enemies, flipped the mutant bat over onto its chest and began cutting a line down its spine.
"The spine also appears to have grown a thick protective covering and grown spines. I wonder what changes have been made to the brain…"
Ghoul trailed off as his imp minion hopped up onto the table and gave him a little wave.
"Gakpad." Growled the warlock, "What have I told you about disturbing me while I'm working?"
"Sorry boss." Replied Gakpad without the slightest flinch, "But I thought you'd like to know that a messenger from your boss is at the door. She says it's really important."
Ghoul sighed and absently smoothed his black hair.
"Damn elf. Thinking she owns us just because she rescued us from Ner'zhul." Grumbled Ghoul as he set down his scalpel and wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "Remind me to summon Gershaz to dispose of that corpse after this business is concluded."
"Got it, boss." Replied the imp as he hopped off the table and followed his master.
Ghoul quickly climbed up the stairs that led to the main part of the mausoleum that served as his home and base of operations when he wasn't off on some meaningless quest contrived by Sylvanas. As one of the few warlocks that had passed the ritual of rebirth Ghoul was considered a valuable asset by the Banshee Queen.
"If only some more Forsaken would get up off their lazy asses and pass the ritual then I wouldn't have to do so much work." He muttered as he opened the heavy stone door leading to the outside.
"Greetings Ghoul." Said the banshee messenger, "I bear a missive to you from our Queen."
"Yes, yes." Hissed Ghoul, his eyes brightening slightly, "Cut the pleasantries. What errand am I being sent one today? Does the Bulwark need some skeletons killed? Or perhaps Brill is having more gnoll problems, which is it?"
The banshee bristled, "Sylvanas has many subjects that would be glad to assist their queen in whatever way possible. You should be honored by the trust she places in you by giving you these tasks."
"Whatever. My orders, then?"
The banshee shoved a letter stamped with Sylvanas' seal at him and left with a dirty look cast over her shoulder at him. Ghoul snorted and stepped back inside. A quick shove sent the doors sliding silently shut thanks to the wonders of goblin engineering. The doors would open easily when pushed or pulled from the inside but were nearly impossible to open from the outside. Furthermore, Ghoul's abode was one of the many mausoleums in Lordaron City's royal cemetery. The maze that had been made of the city streets after the Scourge had their run of the place made it almost impossible to reach the cemetery without extensive knowledge of the area or a guide. Or, of course, one could always fly but Ghoul had several contingencies in place just in case he was attacked by aerial foes.
"Let's see…" muttered Ghoul as he opened the letter while waking into his make-shift living room and study. The cold blue light of his mage lights lit the room and harshly illuminated the pair of comfy, faintly moldy chairs, a wide oak table, and packed bookshelves that lined the walls. He sat down in the nearest chair and read through the letter quickly. After the first read through, he read it again. After a few minutes of this, Ghoul tossed the letter onto the table and sighed heavily.
"The Scarlet Crusade...By the Light! I thought I was down with those insane fanatics when I dealt with that garrison in Silverpine!" moaned Ghoul. "And I have to go to the Western Plaguelands to boot. Religious fanatics and mindless undead. Such is the joy of being in the service of Sylvanas."
"Hey, don't worry about it too much boss." Consoled Gakpad, "Last time you fought those guys you only had me and Gaz'moth to back you up. This time you've got us, Celliara, Gershaz, some new stuff, and a ton more power behind you! It'll be a cinch!"
Ghoul looked at the imp and chuckled. He then stood up and brushed dust off of his robe.
"Better get packing then. She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed has commanded and I must obey. Grab the Shadowblast wand and that dagger of stabbing from the top shelf." Ordered Ghoul.
"It's a Dagger of Stamina, boss."
"Whatever. Just grab it and get your pathetic demonic ass over here. I can't figure out what spell book I should bring."
"What would you do without me, boss?"
"I'd live a life of luxury and be waited on hand and foot by the loveliest ladies around, now get moving!"
"Yes, boss."
(end)
A little bit about the Ritual of Rebirth. Basically this is the thing that enables people to recover their corpses after they die in World of Warcraft except with a name. The ritual is a complicated process that originally began as a way to keep key figures alive, thus the various altars in Warcraft 3. Breakthroughs have been made about the ritual and more people are able to pass it. Passing the ritual means that your soul can handle the wrench back and forth whenever its body dies. Also, that it can survive losing the portion of it put into the hearthstone. The hearthstone serves as both a handy teleportation device and the thing that allows the person to return to life. A hearthstone cannot be removed from its person, literally. The stone will freeze in place and not move farther away than five feet from its person. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view, not very many people pass the ritual. There are a few hundred people that have passed the ritual for each race with slightly less for the trolls and gnomes and slightly more for the humans and orcs. Finally, it is a whispered rumor among the 'rebirthers', as some call them, that if one dies too many times his soul may be ripped to shreds due to the wear and tear. This keeps most rebirthers from doing anything foolish, such as continuously assaulting an enemy base.