Thanata could not believe it. The Gilneans shot salve after salve at the shore, but not all shots were aimed at the Forsaken invaders. They were shooting their own compatriots, too.

The captain laughed maniacally, his burly frame shaking uncontrollably. Dark grey hair framed his brutal face, and there was a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. She knew he was afflicted by the curse, they all were. Some were completely transformed, others still looked human.

Boats were lowered, and parties of sailors were sent to plunder the shattered docks.

The deathstalker revelled in the chaos.


In his quarters, Captain Shadowbite examined the loot. He had taken up the name when he had been initiated into the Wolfcult. Back then, he would use this new alias as well as his true name. Now that he was a true bimorph, he preferred Shadowbite.

Content with the goods the crew had acquired he let the beast take control. He howled at the moon visible through the large cabin window. His fellow worgen replied with howls of their own.

His nostrils flared at a well-known scent. He sniffed the air again and grinned dangerously. He unhooked a large key and stepped towards a large chest.

The lid was flung open, but Shadowbite was ready. He grabbed the Forsaken assassin and quickly disarmed her.

»Damn you, undead scum. You thought you could simply waltz in here with your silly knives and put an end to me? To the Brashtide?« To his surprise, the deathstalker's upper lip curled upwards. Her lower lip was gone, so that was as close as she could come to a smile. »Yes, I rather think I did. You and your crew are as good as dead already.«

The worgen snarled and bashed her against the wall. »What do you mean, Forsaken scum?« Thanata's smile never wavered. »See, my dear Gregor...« The worgen bashed her against the wall again. »HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?« he bellowed. »Gregor Marley. Youngest son of Lord Marley of Gilneas. Disappointment to his father, because you...« »SILENCE!« Shadowbite was breathing heavily now, the rage almost overpowering him. »What did you mean that we're dead already?«

He stared at the undead's half-smile. Suddenly his ears shot upwards. The deathstalker whispered gently: »That is what I mean.«

The whistling cannonball tore through the ship's hull with ease. With a howl of rage the worgen pushed the Forsaken into the chest and turned the key. »If we go down, SO DO YOU!«


Thanata tapped the remote communication device. »Operative Thanata requesting help. Repeat. Operative Thanata requesting help. I have been captured and am kept inside the Captain's chest.«

An explosion shook the ship, and she felt it tipping over. Someone grabbed the chest and shook it violently. She heard Shadowbite's growl. »You bastard! My ship... my crew... YOU WILL PAY!« He lifted the chest above his head. »KEELHAUL!«

She heard the glass break as the heavy chest hit it. She was battered against the walls. Then she heard a loud splash and felt the water leaking in.

»Operative Thanata requesting help. HELP!«


Deathstalker commander Belmont turned off the communication device. He turned to the other commanders.

»She was a deathstalker. She knew the risk.«


Forsaken... FORSAKEN...


Beneath the shadowy sea a battered chest lay, half submerged in mud. The mud stirred. And again. Suddenly the lock cracked and the lid slowly opened.

A bony hand reached out.



Something hit the deck of The Sea-Witch. Randy, the sailor keeping watch this night, raised his lantern. The thing was pale, and obviously dead. Its skin had rotted away in places, and its ruined clothes were sodden. The fingertips of one hand had steel claws affixed to the bone...

Thanata's hand shot out and grabbed the goblin by the throat. »Where... go...« she wheezed. »We- we're bound for- for Booty Bay, miss...« She nodded slowly. »Take... with...« Randy gulped. »I can't help, you'd have to ask the capt- the captain.« The grip tightened. »Take... to... captain...«


Captain Carixxa was impressed by the undead's story. Three months under the sea, all the while trying to bash open the chest she was trapped in... It could drive anyone nuts. And it seems it did, she mused to herself.
»We'll take you as far as Grom'gol, but you'll have to find your own way from there on, miss. Booty Bay frowns on stowaways.« She was not too sure how the Forsaken would react. Thanata nodded.

As the undead was leaving, Carixxa stopped her. »Just one more thing. What's your name, milady?«

A dry cackle escaped the broken visage. »Call me... the Drowned Maid.«


Forsaken name: Thanata, the Drowned Maid

Real name: Isabel Pickman

Allignment: Once leaning towards Lawful or Neutral Evil, now her views have changed. She swings between Neutral and Chaotic Evil.

Race/Class: Forsaken Rogue

Physical appearance: While her face retains the beauty it had in life, all the flesh has been stripped off her lower jaw. After regaining her will, she tore out her eyes because she thought that would prevent her from seeing what she'd become, but to her great despair (at that time) she kept her vision. Her lower ribcage is exposed, and she always keeps a spare set of daggers hidden there. Her arms are completely skeletal from digging through burning rubble when she became undead. However, she had steel claws fastened onto the fingertips of her right hand.

Personality: Cruel and calculating. Her three-month-long incarceration inside a chest under the sea has broken her mind, so she is even more unpredictable than she was before. Hates the Forsaken for abandoning her in Gilneas.

Skills: She was called 'The Ghost' by the other deathstalkers for her white attire, but is nonetheless great at stealth. Her weapons of choice are daggers. However, her greatest strength are poisons. She shuns leather armour these days, prefering a white swashbuckler's shirt, a white hood, white linen pants, and bleached leather boots.

Languages: Common, Orcish, Thalassian.