The cloaked figure of one of Sylvanas Windrunner's dark ranger's strode along a cobbled pathway that led up to a rather ordinary looking Sin'dorei home. From an elven viewpoint it was average, but by the Horde's spikey standards it was nothing short of extravagant. The undead elf pulled her hood down further to shield her eyes from the blinding midday sun, ducking her head low until she finally reached the doorstep of the house. She lightly tapped on the door and waited a moment before tapping again, this time more loudly. She heard some rustling inside accompanied by multiple different voices.
"No wait, don't answer the door!" The hushed voice of a woman barely registered in her long ears before the door opened. She was greeted by a large worgen with black fur and a scar along the top of his head which extended down over his right eye. More pressing, however, was the fact that he was naked with his rock hard shaft pointed right at her.
"I see why the mistress sent me here," she thought before reaching into her bag and pulling out a missive.
"I am dark ranger Anya. I have been instructed by the Banshee Queen to deliver this to you." Anya was blunt in her approach and held out the letter for him to take. Her eyes flicked past the man and peered inside the house where two women of her own kind—albeit living—peeked suspiciously back at her.
The naked worgen, Nick Nightfall, blinked and accepted the letter. Before he could reply or even open it Anya turned around and began to make her way back along the cobbled path from whence she came.
"I'll be waiting by the gate," was all she said, her black cloak fluttering behind her.
Nick sliced open the letter with one sharp claw and began to read it even as an equally naked woman from inside the house grabbed hold of his arm and pulled at him. He ignored the horny elf and kept reading. It was a short but intriguing letter and by the time Nick was finished reading it he couldn't help but grin.
"Fetch me my pants, will you?"
_____
A crunch split through the silent Ghostlands air as Anya dismounted her undead horse. Beneath her leather boots crackled the dead leaves of the once majestic Quel'thalas forest, now just a lifeless reminder of her people's bloody history. She looked up at their destination, Windrunner Spire. Once the majestic home of the Windrunner family, it was now in ruins and, like all of the other settlements in the Ghostlands, empty save for the occasional undead shambling about.
"This is the place, eh?"
Anya glanced over at her traveling partner. The worgen was currently in his human form but had traveled in his feral form, leaping alongside her boney horse and snapping at any nearby undead that approached.
"This is the place," she repeated.
They made their way up a dilapidated pathway, stepping over a number of undead corpses along the way. Three tall spires cast long eerie shadows over them and the landscape but neither seemed phased as they continued their approach. When they finally stood at the base of these shadows Anya stepped inside the building and motioned for the worgen to follow. The inside of the abandoned estate was dark save for the occasional candle and peek of dull sunlight through broken windows. As the dark ranger led him through twisted hallways and empty rooms he could tell that this was truly a house befitting nobility. Despite the cobwebs, cracks in the walls and despite even the random bloodstain here and there, the Windrunner home was largely intact. The undead kept away hopeful looters, and the shambling scourge had no use for worldly possessions. As such family portraits still clung to faded walls and expensive kitchenware sat behind dusty glass shelves. The house was large, but eventually he was led up a spiral staircase and into a spacious room.
Standing across the room on the balcony was the one who summoned him. She stood like a statue, staring across the gloomy landscape with her cloak swaying gently in the breeze. The dim sunshine, which appeared more like moonlight, illuminated the room save for it's dusty corners and cast the elf's shadow across the floor. Whether she was reminiscing or plotting not even Anya knew, but the Dark Lady made no effort to acknowledge their presence.
"I've brought him as you requested, mistress." Anya dipped her head slightly as Sylvanas finally turned around, giving Nick his first real look at her.
She had sharp elven features and though she was undead her beauty suffered not for it. Her eyes flared bright red and the well lit room allowed him to get a good look at her tight abs. Though she was unfortunately clothed, her armor did little to hide the thickness of her thighs and her exceptionally stacked chest. Her eyes flickered to him momentarily before shifting back to her underling. In the short time they were focused upon him, her burning eyes almost seemed to lack irises and it was as if her gaze came from something far behind. Eerie but oddly beautiful, he noted.
"Good work. Make sure we aren't disturbed, the undead here are relentless." Her voice was ghostly but not unpleasant.
Nick's traveling companion departed with a nod of her head, now apparently tasked with cleaning up the nearby undead. With her departure Sylvanas' gaze once more fixated upon the tall human.
"If you're here I presume you found my proposal agreeable?" She spoke again with that ethereal voice of hers, this time addressing him directly.
