• Quiet. It was quiet now. Too bloody quiet! Where was her heartbeat? Why was everything so cold here?! She looked down at pale grey claws and began to shake. The woman wrenched back and let out a tormented howl. It was a sound to cause nightmares. Her hands found a weapon and she reached inward for the warmth of the light. Where was it!? She found something else entirely! It wasn't warm. Not in the same sense. It was hot! Burning! Seemingly endless! The large, red ornate hammer had once been the tool of a powerful archdemon. It had ended much life. And now it was in her hands.

    She brought it down smoothly; a clean Crusader Strike. Only, this was not holy. Blood sprayed. Red, warm blood! So very warm. She was cold. She needed warm! Scourge don't bleed warm, and they don't bleed red. Sometimes, They don't even bleed! The thought was quick. She looked down at her victim. A young blonde man of Lordaerian decent. His blue eyes held fear. Such terror; It was delicious! She tossed her weapon aside and pounced on him. His own howl matched the one that had left her moments before as she ripped flesh from bone and began to consume! Light, save me! What am I doing?! Stop it! I CAN'T STOP! AAAAAAAGHHHH!!! She noised in feral, inhuman delight as the meat passed her lips, and she ripped, and she ripped! Marring pale flesh in crimson and filling her with that wonderful warm feeling. Her body sang out in joy and would not obey her inward screams to stop. Tormenting her as she fed on her victim, she gathered her large warhammer and charged forward--

    Siline's eyes snapped open with a snarl and she shot to her feet. Every time she closed her eyes it was some memory from her time as a scourge captain. Or it was some memory of a life she no longer had? Was this even reality? Her sickly yellow eyes darted about the dark of the forest. It was still cold. But some small part of her took comfort in that. She heard her knuckles pop as she realized she was squeezing her hammer. She looked about the meagre camp. Khalras? Where was Khalras? He wasn't here. She hadn't seen him in ages! Or was it last night? Light, he was so pretty! What she wouldn't give to wreck his beautiful form! Ravage him! Beautiful redhead! For a mere moment, the forests were lush and green once more. Her hands had soft flesh beneath holy, silver gauntlets. She raked the claws of her free, gauntleted hand back through her shaggy, messy blonde hair. Never to be fine again and the illusion faded. The night was cold and dark again and the holy light that she had been about to reach for faded into nothingness. She sat near the fire, waiting for warmth that would not come. Eyes never closing. Mind never stopping. If not for the way the cold wind made her hair dance, she was a statue. Seemingly lost in her creator's design.


    "FORWARD!" Khalras bellowed! She could hear him! He was coming for her! Light bless that beautiful fool! Her arms ached. Her whole body ached. But the light within her never ceased. Silvermoon had to hold! Siline would make sure it did. Her holy hammer dashed through an undead, and another. Surging in righteousness as she fought fiercely. If there had been any doubt that she was a worthy Disciple of the Silver Hand, it was dashed in these final hours. Fire! Ice! Arcane winds ripping flesh from bones. He was close! The Battlemage pushed and pushed hard. And the Paladin did no less! There were old and new corpses all about. Some walking corpses feeding on those too broken to do so! It was terrible! So terrible...

    The blonde let out a fearsome roar as the man to her left fell. And then the man to her right fell. Corpses being tossed from trebuchets outside the city causing horrid thuds and splats and sickening crunches. She turned and saw him now! That beautiful red haired fool. Her heart raced even in the fetid heat of the battle.

    He was shouting something. She had only enough time to realize it was a warning before the blunt end of an Abomination's meathook found her skull. There was yet another sickening crunch and then everything began to fade. Blonde hair spilled around her head. Why am I on the ground? Blood was pooling around her hair, dying the gold in vivid crimson. She clawed frantically at the light, warmth slipping away from her. Cold.



    She awoke again! Still cold. But it had nothing to do with the ripping of the winds of the chilling north. Her lungs had no need to draw air. Even as thoughts raced through her mind she had an odd sense of purpose. We must serve him, and serve him well! Where is the Light? Why can't we grasp it?! A booming voice filled her mind and at once, she knew warmth again. She elated at it's dry, beautiful rasp. The Light has abandoned you, as it did me. There was only one thing more beautiful... Where was it now?


    Siline was sobbing. Wailing. Her hands over eyes that bore no moisture. Only an unliving slickness of rot that would not end. Where was he now? Why wasn't he here? She needed him! Damn him to hell for leaving her to die! He hadn't left her... He couldn't have! She had seen him coming for her. She had seen him! But why wasn't he here?

    "My hands will burn you, now, undead. My touch holds but too much warmth for you... You are not the woman you were, and I am not the man you knew... I am sorry..."

    She howled in agony once more. Tears unable to sting her eyes. And the dead forest about her howled its silence back. Her plate armor rattled as she flopped onto her back, her mind dancing between hunting him down once more and making him pay and jumping into the flames of her fire. She traced her bone ragged claws over her unmarred face. In all the years of Scourge, and then Forsaken service... And yet her face was the same... She pushed herself to her feet and shouldered her weapon.

    He had loved this face once.

    He would love it again. The thought made her giggle, an oddly fluid sound coming from her rotting form...