Ring of Fire

Rated M for later on. This is just a oneshot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft. I only own my characters and plot lines. Thanks.

The clear night sky was a sweet reminder of why I had left the Eastern Kingdoms. I honestly could not stand the Horde regions of the continent, as it was plagued by the Scourge, with plights of their armies closing in on the main capitals of the continent: the Undercity, Ironforge, and then Stormwind. I could smell the plague from miles away, sense its presence in this world. All paladins could, wherever they stood on this planet, it was there.. lurking. It was quite a shame. It was like a monster that would tap on your shoulder to remind you, to annoy you constantly. It never ceased to perturb me, that such things could happen to the land. That such destruction and agony did exist. But it never did surprise me. It all spawned from a need for power, a need to control territories in order to dominate lives, to control the resistance. The Lich King's minions had already taken care of that in Azeroth. But higher north, beyond the Great sea... was Northrend, where I was able to find some source of serenity in spite of all the turmoil.

I walked off the Zeppelin from the Undercity, glad to be away from the dull land of the Forsaken. It was much too dreary for me; Northrend had so much more to be discovered. It was a marvelous change as well from the Outlands, where demons and the Broken called home. Each place that I had traveled to had some kind of force that was opposing what was said to be right. In the Eastern Kingdoms, it was the Scourge. In Kalimdor, it was the remaining bits of the Legion, the Alliance, pirates, and other fiends that were claimed to be "evil" or "wrong-sighted". At least in Northrend, there were places of simple tranquility, where one could just sigh in relief, or raise a mug of ale with friends. There was plenty of time to fight, but there were only so few times where one could relax.

From Vengeance Landing, I had asked around for a nearby mage, who could make me a portal to Dalaran. Walking or flying was either too expensive, or would take much too long to do. Walking was a drag, anyways. So many people who were against the Horde. Rogue trolls, creatures of the Scourge, dragons, wild animals, the Alliance... it was too big of a hassle, unless you had a trained flying mount. I did have one, a demonic horse (ironic too, for a paladin), that I had captured years ago while in the Scarlet Monastery, when it was being terrorized by the Headless Horseman. The creature was owner less, and needed attention to, so I took it in, where I soon discovered it's capability to hover, and soon fly. But of course, that horse was stabled in Dalaran.

After about a half an hour of sitting in the tiny inn at the Undead encampment, I finally found a troll mage who could create a transportation circle to the grand Kirin Tor city. I had never been a fan of portals either, but I was short on time. My fellow guild mates had requested that I join them in an expedition of the mysterious temple of Ulduar in the Storm Peaks. We were all eager to see what awaited travelers and other adventurers like ourselves, and we were to meet a week after discussing the plans of attack. Ourselves and other guilds would be joining us, armed with sharpened blades, axes and shields, and the finest armor that could be found. Twenty-five of us would be venturing inside, and none of us wanted to be left behind. Of course, the troll mage still charged me after I explained to him my reasons for travel. Twenty gold for such a portal! Outrageous. But I didn't complain. I was just pleased enough to find means for getting there.

"So we'll 'ave to go through this entrance, its the only one tha's been excavated thus far." Our guild leader spoke to those that had arrived on schedule. He was a Tauren, with large, thick horns atop his head and chestnut fur that was heavily plated in his nearly unbreakable plate armor.

"Aye, looks like that's our best bet. Straight through until we reach the Expedition Landing, where its rumored Brann Bronzebeard is. It'll be mighty fine to meet him." The other guild leader said, in agreement. "But we must get enough people who know how to heal, to mend the wounded... We can'na do this without a sufficient amount of 'em."

The evening waned on, and soon the ale was flowing in the boisterous Dalaran inn. Dancing, merriment and laughter filled the air; it was the last chance to have fun, to enjoy the world of pleasure and sin before taking part in the expedition of Ulduar. No one wanted to leave, but adventure was nagging us in the back of our heads. It was a bittersweet kind of feeling, with the fear of the unknown tangled between the seems as well. None of us knew what to expect, but none of us, honestly, cared. We knew that there would be ups and downs... hardships and struggles while in the Maker's home. We expected this. The talk of plans continued despite the slur of tongue, and the playful remarks from man to woman that came about soon after. There were several couples in the guild, some married, some not. But they all had found a place in the world, there would be a gap, if there wasn't their significant other, the one they loved. Everyone knew where the speeches of honor and bravery were leading to... one flirtatious move after another, a couple of winks... we all knew.

But this story isn't about them.

Rather, it's about the most mysterious and curious night of my life. It was the one thing that seemed to torment me while we were actually in the Maker's land. It could not escape my memory, for it was so vivid and real, that I could not resist the temptation to remember...

It began when I was walking up down the winding cobblestone paths of the great city of mages, Dalaran. Magic hung heavily in the air like a toxin or mystical contaminant that entered one's system, slurring the senses like alcohol did. It was the one thing my beings craved – we had an addiction at some point, and only a handful of us had overcome it's grasp. I was one of those few. The feeling only tickled my core, but did not bring about a sudden desire for mana, or an arcane crystal. It was more like a warmth that filled my chest, were it settled calmly. My footsteps were quiet, with only a pitter patter to fill the air with noise. There was an occasional meow or hiss from a cat, or the distant sounds of other party goers of the night. I had dressed up for the meeting, wearing an Ebonweave robe with my auburn hair in delicate curls. I felt at peace, awaiting the beginnings of the expedition, but also disappointed that my last evening was over so soon.

I had not been as lucky in the "romance" section as other guild members. Oh, I was a flirt when I wanted to be, but I had never struck gold. I guess I was just picky. I wanted my man to be the usual thing any girl wanted: handsome, charming and romantic. But war and things such as the Scourge tore men like that to pieces. They were far and few, and again, I wasn't lucky. But my hand of cards had always failed on me, always holding me down, preventing me from finding such a character. It had to happen someday? Right? At least before I died. If only once. But I always saw life as a gamble, a toss of the dice, or the pulling of a card. You never know what might happen. You could get the single card that can make or break your win. A lucky pair of dice can snag you money, items, or an excuse to not have to do something. Its like they say, too. When a door closes, another door opens. The chance of me hooking up with a fellow guild member... well that was rather low... but, how could I resist the opportunity for a different kind of man?

And so it happened. I was walking my way down the street, only a few minutes walk away from the tavern that I was staying at. It was in a quieter section of town, away from the night life and chat of the late evening. I enjoyed parties as much as the next gal, but I wanted a break now and then. I just wanted...

Footsteps echoed in my ear, breaking my train of thought. Quickly I turned around, to see no one there. I blinked, expecting something to be there. I shrugged. Your mind is getting the better of you, you've had a few shots – I reminded myself, and continued onward. Silence, but only for a few seconds, for the footsteps returned. I stopped in my tracks, feeling uncertainty get the better of me now.

"He..hello?" I spoke softly, looking over my shoulder. I saw a masked figure standing in the middle of the road about three feet away from me. Surprised and startled, I shrieked. "Oh... um," it was the covering that caught me most off guard. It was a hood that emitted a strange purple aura, a demonic one too. The robe he wore matched. It must have been a form of Ebonweave as well, for the intricate detail was greatly taken account for. The ends of the robe were dragging, as they were frayed and worn out but they were tinted with the same shade of purple that was hinted in the rest of the gown. He was gloved, and the shoulders had a peculiar kind of spikes coming from the sides. Overall, he looked like a wraith of darkness, a ghost who should have been haunting a graveyard, not Dalaran's alleys. If only he had a scythe, then I could have called him the Grim Reaper... No, the Grim Reaper was nothing in comparison to the way this man was dressed. He stood in a slight slouch, as well, with bones protruding from his elbows, sides and his spine was showing. He blended with the night, which was probably the reason why I did not see him the first time. "... was there something you needed?"

I was, afterall, an enchanter. For all I knew, he could have been another traveler in need of an enchant, or some kind of item... something... Some people wanted their Icewalker enchant at this late in the evening... Night owls they were..

But there was no reply. I stood there, staring at the hood, unable to see his face. I knew he was an undead, that was for sure because of the exposed bones. After a few minutes, I became annoyed, and I turned on my heel and began walking away. It took a moment, but he began to follow me up to the Tavern. However, when I stood on the porch to open the door leading inside, I realized that he was gone. I shrugged, and didn't think much of it. Probably just a drunken man, who was stumbling about. I told myself, trying to make nothing out of it. It was late, and the innkeeper was already asleep. Briefly I glanced at the grandfather clock beside the fireplace. It was 1 o'clock roughly. I yawned before heading up the stairs to my room. At the top of the stairs, I walked to the end of the hallway then turned to my right, to see the last door. I fumbled with the key, feeling a bit sleepy after the long day. I yawned again as I opened the door, not noticing that the interior had been changed. All of my supplies were waiting in the bottom left corner, all of my things that I would have to carry through the Storm Peaks, across the large fissure, and into Ulduar. So nothing seemed unusual. I stretched one last time, before opening my eyes to see the dim lighting of candles and the bed somewhat covered with rose petals. My cheeks burned as I looked to my left to see the man from before facing me, still hidden by his garments.

"Excuse me... but, um..." I was stumbling, confused about what had happened. And my heart began to pound in my chest, simply from a newfound anxiety to know what was going on. "Again, was there something you needed?"

No reply. My mind began to panick as the stranger began to creep over to where I stood, lifting a gloved hand to brush my cheek. My lips became sealed as the fingers trailed my lips, pressing lightly into them. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I stood helplessly before the stranger. Why wasn't I panicking? Why wasn't I doing something! No, instead I was standing there like a hopeless fool, allowing some stranger to touch me! How did this man sneak into my room, without going through the main door? But I banished the thoughts, as his fingers began to manipulate my mind. I closed my eyes for sheer seconds, as I became wrapped up in the moment. I found myself nipping such fingers. I heard a chuckle, the first noise I had heard from him.

The rest just... kind of happened. He began to undress me, pulling at the straps of the dress taking his time to tease me. He lifted the gown over my shoulders, only to begin undoing the bodice I wore beneath. Once undone, he tore the rest off me, tossing it to the ground. Then his hands lowered to the strip of cloth covering my lower half, were he took out a dagger from inside his robe, and cut the side straps, so that it fell slowly to the floor. I was exposed to him, almost excited that I was. If anything, I wanted to know what hid beneath that hood. Before he touched me, he walked around me, inspecting me, with his hands at his sides. He stopped when he was behind me, and I could feel his cool breath against my ear, shivering my naked skin. He cupped my chin lifting it up to his face. I still could not see what was hiding under, the cloth fell to low. But I could still feel the cool air pass from his lips, tickling my flesh. The fingers pressed against my lips again, and slowly, I began to pull away the glove with my teeth, desiring to feel his skin on my own. Once free, they grazed my cheek lightly, the tips massaging my cheekbone. The hand slowly trailed down my neck, scraping the skin in a way that sent trickles of pleasure down my spine. His chest was against my back and I noticed that it did not rise nor fall. It was stagnant, frozen in undeath. Cool air brushed down my neck, and another sigh fell from my lips.

And lower his hand went, pressing against my collarbone, making its way down to the top of my breasts. His other hand was buried in my hair, though it was gloved. But his other hand... started first off by flicking the taut tip, poking at it, curiously. Seconds later, he pushed it inward, pinching it between two fingers, pulling it outward. A moan slipped out, tightening his grip on me, crescendoing the sound. He played with the tip for a few minutes, before rolling his palm over it, cupping it in his hand and feeling its weight. He seemed to approve, because he continuously began to run his thumb over the top, soothing it after being roughly played with. Goosebumps formed on my forearms; the night air was beginning to pester me. "Never fear, my darling." He whispered in my ear, causing my body to freeze. I had heard such words before.. recently. The voice sparked a memory in my ear. I knew this undead. He was a warlock, a member of the other guild who had been present at the meeting earlier. He had said those words to me after I had asked about the possibility of failure inside the cryptic land of Ulduar. But his name had slipped through my fingers, it was on the tip of my tongue, too... But such words echoed in my mind, such an entrancing voice, a voice that could manipulate any woman he pleased. It was rich in the accent of that most Forsaken men held, heavy but mysterious, all at once. It was only a taste, a lavish trick that riled my memory, and twisted my sense of control of the situation.

It took mere seconds for him to push me against the sheets where rose petals laid. Their delicate skin was relaxing against my tired muscles, and it was awfully romantic. The candlelight, the faint moonlight of through the window, his hood, his voice... it had to have been planned. But for how long? How long had this poor soul been waiting? Had this man been staring at me from afar? Had his eyes been glued to my body for months, days, or was it just a spark of the moment kind of thing? Honestly, I didn't care. But my mind only wanted to race with questions and curiosity.

I stared up at him, wanting nothing more to see his face, to recognize him and then know. "...Who are you?" I dared to ask, my hands moving to lift the hood. But he quickly sat up, grabbing my hands. He shook his head and I could hear him chuckling again. Before I knew it, my wrists were shackled against the bedposts. I couldn't help but squirm at the idea of imprisonment, as my body rocked helplessly in their grasp, until I gave up noticing that the shaking of my body was just arousing him. How long did he have those shackles hiding on his frame? Again, he had mixed into the shadows, hiding away, and I hadn't noticed.

Instead of kissing me with his lips, he seemed to manipulate the air to do his bidding. He blew against my flesh, the cool air pinching at my breast, tingling my nerves and awaking sensations I had forgotten. He taunted me, as he would move away, and then back whenever he desired. His free hand would cup the one that was being less attended to, causing double the pleasure. Moans began to come more frequently, as he tortured my body. It was mind boggling, experiencing such pleasure, to the point where my back was arching to get that last touch, that last feeling. He sat up again when he was done. I blinked, unsure of what was next. Silence. He seemed to be pondering something, and it made me uneasy. What is he planning...And then another chuckle. He stood up, away from the bed to grab a long, slender piece of cloth off the vanity. He leaned over to me, lifting my head up as he tied the blindfold over my eyes. I struggled again, unhappy that I could not see now. Seconds passed again, before I felt his cool mouth press against mine. The hood was gone, I could tell that much. His velvet lips melded with mine, starting softly, timidly almost. I expected him to taste completely different. I expected the taste of rotten flesh, of death and decay... instead, he tasted normal, rich and full. His jaw was not eroded then. That was one hint at his identity. Unfortunately, there were several undead males who still had a jaw. In response, I licked his mouth, begging for entrance. He barely let me in, only to nibble on my tongue along the way. Soon after, he pulled away in a way that he was pulling my face along with him, dragging the kiss out. He was done for now. Now I had no idea what was coming next. He was extremely unpredictable; I could not make out any of his signs. But did I know anyone who was that unpredictable? Did I know someone who lived their life on whims? Yes... again. Too many choices.

I needed to hear his voice again, as the silence was deepening. "What...what are you doing – "

But a finger stopped me from continuing, but no verbal reply. I heard shuffling, he must have been getting something... but what.

And then I felt it. Vibrant and wild sensation awoke in me as he was tickling me in some form...something soft, light-weight, small...A feather! The sharp vibrations jolted me around, as I began giggling like a maniac beneath him, unable to hold back the spur of childish laughter. Another sign. He was playful, teasing in a way. I probably looked like a mad fool then, but I honestly.. had forgotten to care. But he returned to my lips, forceful now, nibbling madly at my lips, drawing tiny amounts of blood. Our tongues were soon curling together, mad for the other.

But the lips did not stay long, for they kissed and tugged at my neck's flesh for minutes, until it became sore. I was moaning again, softly and helplessly as he had his way with me. I wouldn't be surprised if there were sores the next day, left by him. Tokens of his achievement. Either way, he continued to suckle lavishly, taking his fill, not stopping when he reached my chest. He kissed my collarbone, trailing down to my breasts. His teeth pulled and nibbled at the tip, sending my body crazy. I couldn't suppress a load moan, which caused him to become slightly rougher. He spent ample time pleasing each mound, curling his tongue as much as he desired. My back arched to him again, and I found myself grinning wickedly along with him.

I couldn't help but shudder when he pulled away, my breathing sharp and hitched. He paused again, as I heard him undress now. The robe he wore, the other glove, his boots. I heard buttons unsnap as well. By now, my wrists were aching, bruised by the shackles vile and heavenly torture. He seemed to be able to read my mind, as he began unlocking them. Before setting me free, he held them over my head. "You must promise me that you won't remove your blindfold."I nodded slowly, disappointed some. However, I relished in the sound of his voice, taking his lips again, hoping I could get them to speak again. He grinned as well now, his hand roaming across my body, down to my pelvis and lower. I squealed when he pressed against my folds, bending them between my fingers. One finger dared to slide in, tight as it probed inside. He pinched the sensitive flesh, toying with me. The finger soon was joined by another, and the two pumped in and out of me, warming me up for later on. Afterwards, I took the opportunity to sit up into his lap and examine his face for myself. I felt the usual features of a face: a nose, eyes, cheekbones, a jaw... but the skin was so chilly. My fingers traced the outline of his lips, before pulling away. A naughty idea popped into my mind, followed by a grin. I reached again before me, this time reaching lower than before, searching for his manhood, if it wasn't decayed. To my surprise, I found it, heavy and slimy. My thumb rubbed the tip, pinching and scratching at it lightly. It was long, and the juices settled on my fingers. I pressed it, fondled with it. I heard a moan rise from his throat, and it made my heart pound again. I moved away soon after. Curious, I lifted my fingers to my lips and licked the residue away. Sweet and salty. My chest was rising rapidly, now. I wanted to take command of the situation from there, I wanted to change the tempo. I pushed him back onto the bed and explored his body. The feel of bones was quite peculiar. They were stiff and bristly, something that I had not expected. He was for the most part all in tack, besides the bony figure.

Sure, it wasn't Prince Charming's ideal form, but God, it was so erotic and tempting. I dared to lean my head down, to his manhood and he obliged. I started by licking him, lapping up his flavors for myself. Slow, then the pace quickened, and I began to take him whole, suckling at him hard and forcefully. He was moaning now, grunting almost from my treatment. Before I knew it, he came, and I swallowed his seed. After getting my fill, I wiped my mouth clean and let him take control again. However, he re-shackled my wrists.

"But wasn't I good?" I asked, voluptuously.

I didn't hear a reply, instead, he continued. I felt kisses on my stomach, leading down into my folds. I gasped when I felt his tongue flick at the center. My body erupted into molten fire again, burning for his touch. He complied, suckling the area vigorously, nipping and biting even. My moans came stronger and I felt my body begin the climb to climaxing as it was so very sensual and awakening. Soon enough, his tongue found its way inside, and that's when I came. He sucked me harder, lapping it all up as I exploded with pleasure. I wanted to moan his name, I wanted to clutch onto him, scream, but I was not allowed to know or do such things.

His manhood replaced his tongue soon after. He struck at me head on, without any form of preparation. I gasped loudly, panting now for my body was aching, tired... it had to be late in the evening too... He pressed into me slowly after, taking his time, allowing me to get the feel of him inside me. It was amazing, nonetheless. To be joined in such a heated manner, to become so exposed in seconds, and then to have it turn into this. He increased the tempo soon, pounding harder and faster as my hips met his pushes. Our bodies slapped together, conjoining at our cores. My head was spinning, the world was fading, it was just him... And then he stopped unexpectedly. He was panting now, and I nudged him with my chest, begging him to continue. However, he unlocked the shackles again and allowed for me to take off the blindfold.

I didn't say a word, didn't even look at him, because that wasn't what he wanted. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and my legs around his thin waist and took him harder, clenching his skin tightly. The intermission did nothing but increase his stamina, for he was able to continue for another twenty minutes of pounding into me and heated kissing. Only then, after a few more pushes into me, as well as his own climax and expelling, did he stop and slide off. He had moaned my name, and I moaned his, remembering it at the last minute. He got up from the bed, and got dressed, replacing the ghoulish garments on his body. Once the hood was back in place, I opened my eyes and frowned. He was leaving. And I hardly taken a look at him.

"Won't you stay... we don't have to leave until ten o'clock tomorrow."

He faced me again, contemplating something again. I returned his gaze, still panting from before. Seconds after, he made his decision as the hood fell from his face. We said nothing as he crawled back into the bed beside me, pulling my frame to his. I fell asleep in his arms, to his cool breath on my ear. The candles were low, barely burning then, mere flickers in the darkness. Soon they faded, and we both were able to drift off into our fantasy of what we expected from the mysterious area called Ulduar. We would recollect this night in our memory, and store it in our hearts to keep forever.

The sunlight poured into the open window, meeting my eyelids. I woke up, my eyes fluttering open. I felt around me, noticing that I was alone in the bed. Startled, I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I looked around the room, until I saw him coming from the other room. I had always stayed in the bigger rooms of Taverns, always wanting a bath and table while I relaxed in the city. He came up to the side of the bed and lifted me up into this arms walking me over to the tub in the other room. He laid me down inside the steaming water. I almost expected him to crawl in with me after the previous night. Instead, he sat down on the ground and watched me.

The bath was refreshing and rejuvenating. I sighed softly and leaned my head back. His hand brushed the water's surface, making ripples. I began to wash whatever grim off my body, and he helped clean my back. I couldn't do my hair in this kind of tub, but it was clean enough for Ulduar. His fingers trailed across my sides, drifting across my back and shoulders. I couldn't help my moan gently and lean my head back to look into his glowing yellow eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked.

I nodded, smiling. I slept damn well. "So tell me, how long have you been staring at me from afar?"

"I wanted to wait for the right moment."

I laughed and caressed his cheek. "Figures, you always looked like the type that took their time."

"I'm just glad you were able to wait."

"Of course."

He fondled me again before I finished bathing, rubbing my breasts one last time before I got out. After getting dressed again, we both walked out to the meeting place from last night, hand in hand.

A/N: Just a oneshot thus far. Might continue this in a future fanfiction. Got this idea from a friend while I was questing to 80 on my warlock. I brought up a very, very serious question that only he, a undead warlock, could answer.

"Are undead decayed... everywhere?" to where he replied. "No."

And then, my wicked fantasies overtook me, and I had to get this typed. So there you go! There is a reason for everything :D. I might continue this someday, make it an actual story, just for the hell of it. But AFTER, I finish the one I'm currently on, of course.

But I thought of another question... if an Undead male and a insert female race here do it... what do the children come out as? Half insert race here half undead hybrids? How does that work? Are they the undead version of the un-undead race?

Entirely confusing, in my opinion.

Comments? Answers? I must know.