I was spending the evening relaxing in a Dwarven inn with Grimbor, enjoying all of his adventuring tales that I had heard countless times before, but always with some new twist to them depending on what he had drunk that evening, when our Night Elf companion Azrail sauntered in. Even though he was very much out of place in the inn, surrounded by Dwarves and those foolish enough to drink with them, he looked totally at ease, as Elves tend to do. He came over to our table and asked if either of us were too busy to aid him in ridding the Raven Hill cemetary of Plague Spreaders.

'Are there more of them?', I enquired, as it had only been a short while previously since I had despatched almost two dozen of them myself, with Grimbor's help.

'Indeed. I have been urged to cull their numbers', was Azrail's reply. I donned my hat, grabbed my staff, and stood to leave. It seemed it was too late in the evening for Grimbor, as he started to recollect the story of how we bravely fought off ten Plague Spreaders at once. Even though he was telling it to no one in particular and I would have liked to hear how this new story would end, especially as I didn't remember that moment myself, my duty to the Alliance led me out the door with Azrail.

We couldn't waste time, so we both bought a gryphon ride to Sentinel Hill in Westfall, which borders Duskwood and is closer than the gryphon master in Darkshire, and ran back across the border and north through Raven Hill to get to the cemetary. Before we could face the horrible Plague Spreaders we had to fight past Skeletal Horrors and Fiends. That was the easy bit, and loosened us up for the fight ahead. Careful to skirt around the dread Mor'Ladim, the undead lord who wanders the cemetery claiming any soul that foolishly wanders too close to be his own, we made our way to the crypt near Forlorn Row.

There were some Plague Spreaders brave enough to venture out of the crypt—that is how dire the undead problem had become. With Azrail's whirling blades and my dark magic we made quick work of them, but felt this was not enough to quell their uprising. We looked each other in the eye and knew what we had to do: we had to enter the crypt itself, to kill the abominations where they were most powerful, where they, and we, could be cornered.

There was a large hole in the crypt from which the Plague Spreaders had exitted. Their foul stench led us to it, and we bravely but cautiously headed in. We picked off a few of them hanging around the entrance, wondering whether the air outside was too fresh for them to leave, perhaps. After this battle we saw that, to our left, was the entrance to the chambers where all the bodies were once buried. Through the doorway we could see undead shambling around inside. Undead have a nasty tendency to shuffle around slowly normally whilst having a tremendous burst of speed when attacking. I imagine there has been more than one adventurer caught badly off guard by the undead's appearance against their capability.

Readying our weapons, we headed in, and fought back the numbers valiantly. We were careful not to draw the attention of too many at once, but were quick enough not to have to stay in there for too long. Just as it looked like we were finished, I spotted another undead monster not too far away. I cast my Curse of Agony in him and set Makgrave, the summoned Voidwalker who does my bidding, to attack. It was only as the undead creature bolted towards me that I noticed that his armour was a little more ornate, his bearing more pronounced than the other ghouls. This one did not even flinch as Makgrave taunted him and struck him with his claws; the ghouls eyes were fixed on me.

I wanted to fight, but I also wanted to flee. I began the incantations of another spell and hit him with that, and then another. Even though I could sense he did not resist my magic, the ghoul was almost unfazed; his piercing eyes looked straight in to my soul and he told me his name as his claw came down upon me: I was facing Lord Malathrom. I had not realised! I should have paid more attention when I casually picked him as the next victim. Azrail did not feel strong enough to take him, being worn down slightly from destroying the Plague Bearers, and I had to agree with him that this was a fight for another day. It is perhaps not brave to admit this, but we turned tail and ran, ran out of the crypt and far enough in to the fresh air that Lord Malathrom was forced to turn back.

However, we made it out and were able to rest on the hillside as we watched Malathrom return to his resting place, where he would no doubt prey on other adventurers. Azrail and I sat down and tended to our wounds, sharing a nervous laugh about what might have been, but also happy that we had reduced the numbers of Plague Spreaders and other ghouls significantly. Lord Malathrom had his work cut out to get another small army, and we would probably be back before he could manage this.

Feeling a bit better, I mused how Grimbor would have liked to have seen this, so that he could tell the tale over ales one evening, and Azrail said that I would just have to tell him how things went. But at that moment, the air seemed to get colder. Was that possible? Before we knew it, we were back on the defensive! There was an undead warrior behind us, and we were taken completely unawares! We both knew that it would have to be something powerful to catch us so by surprise, but we really didn't want to turn around to see Mor'Ladim, the most powerful figure in the area. But there he was, picking off two unwary adventurers, foolhardy enough to start a picnic on the very hill he patrols.

We were panicked, but still professional. Well, professional enough to run like girls until we dove straight in to the river that borders Duskwood and Elwynn Forest. I think the next time that we find ourselves battle-weary and need to rest, we had best find an inn, and not the patrol route of a powerful undead warrior. With that in mind, we headed back to Stormwind City and the inn where we left Grimbor, ordered some drinks, including one for our Dwarven friend, and settled down to hear the end of how Grimbor and I defeated the Plague Spreaders. We raised a toast to the Aberrant Chapter!

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