AN: I (sadly) don't own anything except my OCs. Have fun reading.

Prologue

The glow of the lava lighted the massive cavern, dimmed by the smoke emerging from the very same molten rock. For millenia, the obsidian sanctum under the Wyrmrest Temple had been a quiet place, untouched by the wars above, for it was still protected by treaty as the garrison had not broken said treaty yet.

Sartharion, warden of the sanctum and one of the few wyrms of his kind still alive, had stayed out of the war for now.

Yet these times were over as soon as he saw his "reinforcements".
Mutated in both mind and body, the two twilight dragons were a terrifying sight, fully grown despite beeing only a few years old at best. They had introduced themselves as Theralion and Valiona, but had made no effort to hide their contempt for their official superior and spend their time now with petty strife and a neverending stream of insults.

This was enough. Sartharion was aware of the corruption of his flight, although he did not know how had evaded the same fate. He knew that he had to do something, but had been to scared to actually act.

As long as I stay out of this, I can protect the eggs down here, he had told himself for years, yet he could no longer ignore want happened directly in front of his eyes.

This was the last straw, mutating mere whelps into beast of war was more than the conscience of the old warden could handle. From the moment they stepped through the portal from Grim Batol, Sartharion had planned his move, hiding in plain sight, using the contempt direct against him to act without fear about his plot beeing discovered. He even infused himself with twilight magic, it felt terrible and took weeks to avoid corrupting his own body and mind, but he would need any and all scraps of power he could get. Now, as ready as he would ever be. It was time to put the plan into motion.

They were arguing again, the subject trivial and merely another pretext to hurl insults and threats at each other. They were so caught up in their quarrel that they failed to sense Sartharion as he approached them. These whelps should be the weapons to conquer the world? They were wyrms physically, but while their minds were more developed than normal for their age, they were still whelps, untrained, undiciplined and both paranoid and violently unstable due to the corruption of their. Sending these children to war would spell a disaster, no matter how powerful they might be.

When Valiona and Theralion finally noticed his arrival, they wasted no time to establish their superiority.

"If that isn't the old fool who thinks he is still in charge here. It would be a cute sight if it was less disgusting", Theralion hissed.

"Even you are right sometimes, brother. Can you see how he tried to absorb twilight magic? He even tries to steal from his betters! Have anything to say about that, old fool?", Valiona said, smiling maliciously.

Sartharion didn't answer. Instead, he took a step forward, grapped Valiona's horns with of front claws and smacked her head against the cavern floor. Her body slackened, and she collapsed with a dull flop.

Theralion managed to show a scornful grin, just as Sartharions mace-like tailtip hit him in the temple, knocking him out too.

"Lesson one on guarding a vital location: Be on guard, you idiots!",
Sartharion growled as parts of his tention faded.

The warden examined the unconsious body with his magic sight. The intricate webs of magic that covered any inherently magical creature was the host of the corruption , about a dozen disgusting, pulsating tumors of old and alien magic in each of the two body. Taking a few deep breaths, he prepared his own magic. It was time for invasive emergency surgery, a prospect that scared the warden conducting it just as much as it would scare the patient...

She opened her eyes, but the world didn`t macke sense. Her last memory consisted of heat, rage and pain, the blurry image of something ripping her apart. Yet here she was, lying in what appeared to be a small cave, in her mortal form, free from any pain.

No pain? The realisation took a moment, then she looked down upon herself. The scars were gone, as if they had never existed, and the constant, burning agony was gone too.

As where the voices.

Whar had happened? This was a positive change, but something like this would certainly come at cost of equal magnitude.

She rose up from the ground, finding herself weak and berely able to stand, her vision blurry from the simple act of standing up. As her vision cleared somewhat, she saw that she was not alone. Had the person in front of her just arrived?

She didn`t know and cared even less. Disgust about being found in such a defenseless state turn to fear and fear turned into rage as she hurled a fireball at the person. The spell however was just as weak as she was currently, the flames never reached the target. Then the drain kicked in.

Sintharia managed to take a single step back before her vision faded to black.

Memories filled her unconsciousness with terror. Grim Batol, the experiments on the stolen eggs, the first twilight dragons. How could she have done this? Why had she obeyed the voices in her head? There was no escape, no way to get away from the horrific scenes.

"You got a spell of immediately after getting back to life. Unsurprising, but still quite impressive. I hope you recover quickly,"

The somewhat gruff voice began talking exactly as Sintharia woke up up. She was now leaning at the wall of the cave,close to a small fire, and someone had wrapped a blanket around her. The owner of the voice sat on the other side of the fire, an old man with white hair and beard, clad in simple grey robes. There was nothing overtly threatening about him, but his mere presence and his apparent knowledge about her death and ressurection scared Sintharia more than she would ever admit.

The old man sensed her fear, in spite of all attempts to conceal it, and switched to a nicer tone.

"Forgive me, I forget my manners at times. My name is Azarneth, and I brought your here in the hope to establish mutual benefical relations with you and your followers. My companion prefers to introdice himself."

With these words, another figure stepped out of the shadows and kneeled down close to her. A very handsome man in fine clothes and halfplate armor. The fact that he had been so close to her without beeing noticed spoke volumes both about her weakened state and his ability to stay unseen. Sintharia was still trying to cope with her living again, so she didn't react till he took her hand and placed a light kiss on her fingers.

"Vlad von Carstein", he introduced himself with a very soft, pleasent voice. "I'm glad to meet you, mylady, but you have to excuse me for now. Other preparations have to be made."

Vlad rose again, and, after taking a single step back, vanished into the shadows.

Sintharia shifted her gaze back to Azarneth, leaving the state of shock as she slowly accepted the thought of beeing alive oncemore.

"You have questions that I can answer," Azarneth broke the silence again.

"Ask what you want to know."

It was true, questions were in no short supply. Once again trying to supress all sighs of distress and forcing a semblance of order in the chaos of her mind, Sintharia took a deep breath.

"How long was I dead?"

"About two years."

"Who are you, exactly, and what do you actually want from me?"

"I came here and found a world full of power and wealth, both ripe for the taking for those with the will and the ressources. As for you, was and I am still hoping to get a mighty ally. You surely know quite a bit about this world, and you have the mind and the power to back that up. Our goals should be compatible, and you owe me atleast something for the ressurrection."

"You're evading the first question: Who are you?"

"I serve a high power from outside of Azeroth, and you have to understand that I can't reveal any details without beeing sure that you are truly on my side."

Sintharia needed another deep breath. The vague aura of terror taht surounded Azarneth made sense now, if he truly was a creature from a world far away.

"What do you think to know about any goals I might have?" she asked, not trying to hide the suspicion in her tone.

"If I were you, I would probably try to save those of my kin still controlled by the corruption that I fell victim to. I am also certain that you have a few personal scores to settle. Its a simple deal: You help us, which would mean to assist Vlad in his mission here on Azeroth, and once that is done, you'll have our full support for the rescue of your people."

"And what happens if I decline your deal? This hole situation looks a lot like the classic "offer you can't refuse"."

"Well that truly hurts", Azarneth said in lamenting tone, "but jokes aside, you can leave if you want. As long as you stay out of our way, you have nothing to fear."

Sintharia took her time to consider her limited options. It was fairly clear that Azarneth had planed this, and while she didn't have any detailed plans to save her flight, doing so was still her duty. If assisting those two in their plans to receive their support, could easily be worthwhile. If Azarneth brought her back to life, which was likely enough, he was anything but a pushover. And this might very true for his companion as well. Without any other plans, she had nothing to lose and great allies to win. If you looked at it this way, the choice was not to difficult.

"Fine, I'll do it, as long as you uphold your end of the bargain."

Azarneths neutral expression changed into grin, a grin that showed too many and way too sharp teeth for an old man.

"Thats the spirit! Vlad will tell you the plan. All you have to do is ensuring that this plan suceeds. I have to go now, stay safe." Abruptly rising up, he hissed the words of a spell and vanished in flash of light.

As the cave fell silently except for the fire, Sintharia began to think about her past again, and regretted it. How many of her friends and family were dead? Neltharion was still insane, Onyxia and Nefarian had been slain, the remaining flight scattered and decimated. And her own crimes, things a sane creature would maybe see in the grip of a nigtmare. How had she been able to do this?

When Vlad returned a few minutes later, a package under his arm, he found his new colleage still leaning against the wall, wrapped in the blanket and staring into the flames. It was a scene he knew to well, the sight of someone reliving something that haunted them, miles and years away but still brathing down your neck. But despite the tragic situation, Vlad could not help himself to see that she was a very beatiful women, raven hair and ivory skin worthy of the midnight aristcracy. Yet he also knew about the remarkable danger posed by this beeing, no matter how fragile she looked now. He approached with caution, quiet enough not to disturb her, but obvious enough to aviod unfortunate implications.

"I suppose it is time to go now, right? So, what exactly is this great plan of yours?", she said and stood up, her voice sharp and cold, the kind of voice that could either tripple the rate of a heart or make it stop, depending on context and intention.

Vlad looked at her for a moment before shifting hs gaze to the wall.

"You might want to get dressed first. Lord Azarneth left this here for you", he said coyly.

Sintharia through a glance down at herself: It was true, she was naked. She cursed under her breath, this lack of perception was an embarrassment on her part. She could probably blame the situation and the fact that her species didn't wear clothes in their true form, but it was still a pityful display.

Shame won't help you, idiot, she thought to herself, stepped forward and took the package. Vlad politely turned around as she opened it. The content of the package consisted of a very fine set of clothes: underwear, a pair of riding boots and a fashionable, yet practical dress, as well as heavy, fur-lined coat. She got dressed with all haste, feeling somewhat calmer afterwards.

"You can turn around now", she said after she tried the coat. Comfortable, but too warm for these temperatures.

Vlad turned around, and she noticed how he moved with a certain, unnatural grace, another hind that he was not as human as looked.

"Mylady, I must say that your beauty is something to behold", he said and bowed slightly. "Please follow me, our horses are ready."

"They will have to wait a little longer. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what ee are supposey doing", she hissed.

Raising an eyebrow, Vlad took a step back in playful gesture of capitulation. "He didn't tell you? Of course he wouldn't, that part is left for me", he muttered under his breath before switching back to his serious, formal posture.

"Our mission, mylady, is to infiltrate the forces of the Alliance meant for the upcoming war against the source in Northrend, get to the front, and kill the Lich King so I can take command over his forces."