[The following takes place sometime after the events of WotLK but before Legion]
Part One
“If I cannot live with her than I shall die!” cried Pyramus from atop Deathknell chapel.
Executor Arren grumbled and walked up to the church, attempting to make eye contact with the hysterical new Forsaken.
“Now c’mon it’s the third time you’ve been up there man we’re going to need you to-” started Arren before Pyramus leapt from the roof and impaled himself on the churchyard’s wrought iron fence.
Arren sighed and waved two Deathguard over, “One of you peel him off that and the other grab that Cleric. We do this one more time and I’m going to see to it he stays dead”.
The two Deathguard played a round of rock, parchment, shears to see who would do what. Removing the newly risen from the fence yet again would not be fun but that Cleric made many feel a tad uneasy. He seemed pleasant and helpful. Always there to listen and advise - not to mention he’d shown many a Deathguard how to consume alcohol in undeath much to their glee and command’s dismay.
But it was how the Cleric appeared that bothered Saltain - or rather how he hadn’t. With passing consideration Saltain knew this Benedikt had been in Deathknell since day one. But if he really thought about it - he could almost swear Bendikt had only been there a year or so - and wasn’t there a Shadow Priest who used to be here? Maybe he was just mixing things up. It was possible. But it was disconcerting how Benedikt seemed to materialize whenever Saltain entertained these fuzzy memories. Come to think of it, hadn’t Benedikt taught him how to drink the first time he thought about this?
“These worries are above my pay grade” decided Saltain as he approached the Shadowgrave, or at least he believed he did.
“Father Benedikt” Saltain said as he approached the Forsaken Cleric. Currently he was standing patiently next to an undead woman who was rocking back and forth in the fetal position.
“There’s a, well, another situation Executor Arren wants you to attend to in town. That freshdead that wrote down ‘Bard’ in the career description, he’s being-”
“Dramatic?” asked Benedikt as he awkwardly patted the panicking Forsaken and turned to the Deathguard.
“More or less. Jumped again. Oliver’s trying to yank him off the fence right now. Think the boss is about out of patience with that one. What’s going on here?” Saltain inquired, gesturing at the pointlessly hyperventilating undead.
Benedikt walked away and beckoned Saltain to follow, “From what I can gather this one overdosed on Light know’s what back when - still thinks she’ll ‘come down’ any minute now. Just stay nearby in case things become, volatile, when reality sets in” Benedikt said.
Saltain sighed, nodded and turned back to guard the tweaking dead. Benedikt made his way into town, exchanging pleasantries with the locals before walking to the back of the Churchyard to observe an exasperated Deathguard Oliver attempting to untangle the still very much ‘alive’ Pyramus.
“You know this would be a LOT easier if you stopped playing possum and helped!” snarled Oliver as he attempted to maneuver Pyramus’s torso through the wider side of the gate’s spiked finial.
“Just leave him I’ll have a word” instructed Benedikt to the visible relief of Deathguard Oliver who happily traipsed off.
Benedikt sat down and leaned on the fence. “So, Pyramus is it?” asked Benedikt.
He let several minutes go by before adding, “You know we’ll leave you here and the wolves will come chew your legs clean off. The waiting list for a functional replacement stretches on for quite awhile. Could be months”.
Pyramus continued to pretend he was dead.
“And as for more personal parts of your lower body? You would not believe how much an intact set will run you on the black market. Those will probably be gone for good” Benedikt mentioned.
“It’s Archibald. Archibald Pyramus” the Bard finally said.
“Franzis Benedikt, pleasure to make your aquitance Archibald” replied Benedikt; reaching up to give an inelegant handshake with Pyramus’s mostly mangled right arm.
“So what seems to be the problem?” appealed Benedikt.