I killed Lamis when the second plague hit Azeroth. Well, technically she got plagued and the goblins killed her, but it was all my idea. The PoL Master was falling deeply into drink, for many assumed and actual reasons, most of which were known only to herself. She got a second run when the Lich King reanimated her. This was her introduction.
The fires were banked for the night, but there was one last thing to take care of before the worn patriarch sent his children off to bed. Daily attacks by the Scourge had chipped fiercely at their routine and stolen the woman from his side, but one thing would not change, he thought grimly to himself. A birthday is a birthday, and he'd be loathe to let it slide. He singled out the eldest with a smile.
A dark figure paused outside the window, unnoticed. Beneath her hood, eyes that burned with cold fire assessed the family. Dark lips twitched up at the corners, a hollow imitation of the father. She could see a small gift change hands, joy flitting across the faces of the young. She mimicked them all, briefly, feeling the muscles of her face contort and twist. The man produced small pieces of candy from his pocket. She recognized the hunger stamped on the faces of the little ones, so eager for a little taste... she was cold once more, expressionless in the dark, waiting with stony patience as they ate and laughed. Soon they scattered, trudging off to the warmth of their beds, and the man slumped into an overstuffed chair in front of the fire.
She moved quickly. The old man never saw her, and his death was silent but for the sound of his head rolling across the floor. All of them went silently under the edge of her blade, until only one remained. She entered his room. The eldest of the flock slept oblivious to her, the tiny wraith of dripping sword. She could see the lines of his jaw had begun to firm out, dotted with a pale shadow of stubble. He was a young man, trading pretty for handsome. Resting her blade over her shoulder, she stared impassively down at him. Her lips twitched again, an affectionate smile forming on the cold muscle she wore like a mask. A swift movement and she was straddling his chest, his arms pinned to his sides under her hideous strength. She cooed, an alien sound in the twilight, cold, gauntleted hand clamped over the boy's mouth. His eyes rolled with fear, and she could see it, taste it, curdling on the air. It was delicious.
"Darling, why so afraid?" He froze at the sound of that voice. High and sweet, it cajoled even as it gripped his gut with icy fingers of horror. She could feel his mind begin to go. That, too, was a heady fragrance in the dark. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Fear not, my darling. For you, the darkness will be the end, and it. will. be. bliss." The last thing he saw was loving concern stamped eerily on her features. Lamis withdrew her blade and leaned in once more, the hollow, rotten ache at her core soothed by the gurgling sounds he made as he lay dying. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."