It had come as a massive relief to Meganna Wheeler that she was indeed still capable of getting drunk. Despite the shock of waking up to what the world had become, despite the loss of her family and faith, despite the dreams of atrocities beyond her control, it wasn't until earlier this night, at the Darkmoon Faire with her Blood Elf friend Dieago, that she had actually checked to see if alcohol still had any effect on her undead body. And it had, though she could probably have predicted the results after the conversation had turned to Stratholme before they even reached Elwynn. Meg could still be a drunk, but she was far from a fun one.
Sitting on the (naturally immaculate) floor of the Blood Knights' enclave off Farstriders' Square, her small, frail frame tucked into a corner with her knees to her chest and her chin on top of them, Meg could slowly feel her sobriety returning. After parting ways with Dieago the intention had been to return to her unreasonably lush Silvermoon City apartment to feed her little dragon-whelp Khadgar and then collapse unceremoniously into her ridiculously elaborate bed, possibly taking off her heavy chainmail at some point along the way. But once she had arrived back in the city the thoughts that had stumbled through the fog in her head drew her here instead. In the center of the floor, a good dozen feet from where Meg sat, a golden railing circled a hole through which one could see Blood Elf mages on the level below casting what seemed to be powerful wards on a being of pure Light. She watched a cluster of handsome Blood Knights standing on the other side of the railing passively, her glowing eyes half-closed as their incomprehensible, beautiful Thelassian speech washed over her in the echoing chamber. Silently she sighed to herself, wondering how long it would be before the proud paladins noticed the inebriated Forsaken woman and asked her to move along. For all that the Blood Elves had been generally accepting of her, for all they seemed to actually appreciate the help Sylvanas had sent them, she didn't think passing out drunk in one of their most important places would go over well.
As her thoughts became clearer she remembered the first time she had stumbled upon this chamber. It was only a couple weeks before, while exploring the city on her own. While doing her own little patrol she had met some members of a city militia called the Blood Vanguard, and she followed their leader Calaban to the courtyard outside this place before leaving him to his own patrol. Something about the building had drawn her in. What was left of her breath had been taken away by the sight of the angel imprisoned there. Another Forsaken she had spoken to in the city earlier, a shadow priest named Sarvis, had warned her that the elves were hiding some mysterious source of Light, but she hadn't imagined anything like what she found there. Even within its magical bonds she felt the strange glowing creature exuding a peace she hadn't felt since death, and it nearly brought her to her knees with grief. A monster like her could never deserve such a thing, couldn't be embraced by it any more than she could be embraced by the Light itself, and it reminded her sharply of that loss. The Blood Knight standing guard nearby had looked at her strangely, but she composed herself quickly and forced herself out of the building just in time to find her partner Valentin looking for her in the courtyard. (Another beautiful thing I'll never deserve the love of, a voice in her mind spoke from the fog as she thought of the elven priest. But the other night... another began to protest. Nonsense, whispered the first.) There must have been some form of dissent already about the Light-being, because Val seemed to immediately jump to defend what she had seen. It was from this beautiful thing, this "naaru", that the Blood Knights like Dieago drew the power of the Light, and it was in no uncertain terms but with a trace of guilt that Dieago had explained to her at the Faire that their powers were gained not by prayer or devotion but by force. But the night she found it Val assured her that if something so powerful didn't wish to be used, it could certainly find a way to escape them. The Blood Elves might have different beliefs regarding it than she was used to in the church, but even if they chose to believe they had managed it by force, he was convinced they were still blessed.
Good for them.
The young dead woman sighed again, her bony shoulders heaving enough to make the mail of her armor rustle gently against itself. One of the Blood Knights had started glancing at her every so often out of the corner of his green eye, and not in the way the hunter who had been here when she arrived had, either. Her head was nearly clear now, and while it was one thing to pass out drunk here, it was another to pass out sober. Meg closed her eyes again for a moment, hugging her knees against her chest, and let herself imagine she was in church again, feeling the Light that was in all living things comforting her as it had when she lost her mother, as it did when Val used his magic to heal her when she got hurt fighting. Under the hushed echoes of the Blood Knights' conversation she heard the sound of a heavy armored foot move on the hard floor and her eyes shot open to offer an apologetic grin to the elf who had been watching, who had turned away from the others and moved to wake her now that it appeared she was falling asleep. "Sorry," she offered in harsh, universal Orcish as she stood slowly. "I know, I should be getting home." The Blood Knight gave her a half-smile and nodded, his long red ponytail bobbing behind him. It occurred to her as he turned back to the other two that she got along with the Blood Elves so well because they shared an understanding that they were better than her. And as she walked down the shallow steps to the door, her own heavy armored boots slaughtering the silence of the chamber, she remembered one of the earliest lessons she learned as a girl: The Light connects each of us with all living things.
Yeah. All living things.