Ah, Wrath of the Lich King—when the world was graced with the glorious and somewhat questionable addition of Death Knights. Among them was a particularly eccentric one who took up residence at a lamppost outside the Cathedral in Stormwind. Yes, you heard that right: a lamppost. Not exactly the most menacing spot for a death knight, but there he was, like a gothic statue at a poorly designed theme park.

This particular death knight had all the charm of Skeletor from He-Man, but, you know, with a deathly twist. I mean, picture him in the glow of that lamppost, leaning against it like he was waiting for a bus to nowhere, with a permanent scowl plastered on his skeletal face.

Laine, ever the chatty one, would stroll by and strike up conversations with him, treating him like he was her long-lost buddy. “So, how’s the whole ‘being a death knight’ thing working out for you? Ever thought about switching up your lamppost position? Maybe the fountain would be more scenic?”

But alas, Skele was as silent as a graveyard at midnight. He’d just stand there, unfazed, presumably contemplating the depths of his existence—or maybe he was just really into lamppost aesthetics. Who knows?

Then there was Manthis, another death knight and a great friend, who was the polar opposite of Skele. He was the life of the party, if you could call it that. Manthis had this amazing knack for RP and became my Priestess’s personal bodyguard. “You’ll be safe with me!” he’d declare dramatically, raising his sword as if he were about to fend off a dragon instead of just a few pesky NPCs.

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We had some epic RP adventures together, battling through dungeons, taking on elite mobs, and just generally being badass. But, as with all great stories, tragedy struck. Manthis met his end in character, and I was left with the sorrowful task of leading his horse and body to the burial grounds.

Imagine it: a somber procession through Stormwind, with me trying to keep a straight face while dodging NPCs and ignoring the occasional “Is that a funeral?” remark from players passing by.

Laine, of course, decided to honor Manthis by composing a heartfelt dirge—right there, in front of the lamppost where Skele was still leaning, completely disinterested. “Oh, Skele, if you could just muster a tear for your fallen comrade!” she lamented. “But I guess you’re too busy contemplating the meaning of lampposts in the grand scheme of life, huh?”

And there he stood, unmoved and unyielding. If only Skele could speak, maybe he would’ve said something profound—or at least grunted in sympathy. Instead, he just continued to guard that lamppost, steadfast as ever.

Looking back, those days were filled with laughter, adventure, and the kind of absurdity only a virtual world could provide. The bizarre friendship between a lively death knight, a lamppost, and a somewhat chatty Priestess was a testament to the wild, whimsical nature of our RP lives in Stormwind.