It was nightfall in Silvermoon city. All remained quiet,
 save for the pounding strides of the Arcane constructs,
 their crimson glow illuminating the white marble
pavement. The citizens had retired to their luxurious
homes, presumably to escape the darkness of the twilight.
 A pillar of light showed itself on the horizon. The
 ever-beloved Sunwell pierced through the darkness as a
beacon of hope on the edge of an ever-broken world.

The sounds of hooves could be heard. Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
 A figure was drawing near one of the Blooddrake homes,
cloaked in shadow. Upon a mighty horse it did ride,
necromantic fire igniting the hooves wherever the long-dead
horse strided. Small creatures of the night, namely kittens,
scattered in fear of the Shadow and his mount. Beneath the
traveller's hood, bright yellow eyes looked upon the world
unhuman-like. They screamed terror. Pain. Discord. Suffering.
The left eye dilated in almost a beastial manner as the
hooded man dismounted his horse, scanning the area around
him.

It was clear now that the man was dead. It looked as if he
had been dead a long time: skin peeled itself away from
deteriorating muscle. Stitches adorned various spots that
had been repaired from mutilation. Even now the fingers were
 distorted into sharp claws... claws that might be able to
cut through anything. Eyes focused on the drape before the
man. He could see what he sought inside and carefully moved
through the transparent material with graceful, but cold
strides.

Inside, the home was filled with comfort and luxury.
Davenports and canapes set themselves in clusters around
the room. In the center was a dining table fit for as many
as fifty guests at one time. Green crystals floated around
the room, powering strange objects with their fel power.
This was obviously no ordinary home. Whoever lived here
seemed to still openly embrace the fel as a source of power,
 unlike most elves which, he knew, had returned to their
precious Sunwell.

"Vandrian," the man called out. Behind the back of a sofa,
he could see smoke rising into the air in wispy streams.
"You act surprised," came a deep voice, and the head of a
dark-skinned elf appeared from behind the barrier. Vandrian
Blooddrake's eyes were still as green and as condescending
as ever. The Shadow could feel the fel magic from across the
room and cringed. Green particles literally polluted the air
around the elf's eyes. Finally, Vandrian gave an annoyed
scoff, taking another puff from his water pipe, "Why have
you come here, Valinthras?"

Valinthras looked around warily. Just behind him he heard
the growl of a felhunter, its mouth salivating and its long
tentacles dilating their grips. He turned back to the elf,
 pulling his hood over his face to give him a false sense of
 security. "Vandrian," he began, "As you may well know,
Lellenthyr has seemed to... spiral out of control."
Valinthras steepled his fingers. Vandrian sighed out of
annoyance, "Has something happened since the last time she
fooled with her little experiment?"

Valinthras began again, "Did she ever tell you about the
recent Worgen incident? The one I had to fix." Vandrian gave
 him a lazy, uninterested look. "And?" The undead began to
think in his mind. Maybe winning over Vandrian's help would
 be quite a challenge. Nevertheless, he began to explain,
"She used a love potion on a Worgen, which proceeded to try
and mate with her and Insein. Luckily, I was there to
tranquilize the beast just in time."

Vandrian rolled his eyes and positioned himself again on the
 couch, "It looks like she learned her lesson then." All
went silent as Valinthras looked for a rebuttal. At this
rate he wasn't doing too well. Words began whispering
themselves in his ears, and the silence finally broke.

"Does it not bother you, Vandrian," he growled in a low
voice, "that Lellenthyr would rather be focused on this
ridiculous Love Crusade than she would be with you?" This
seemed to strike a cord as the tan elf's body shifted upward.
 He could see some of the bare chest now where Vandrian wore
 nothing but a bath robe. The fel-ridden eyes narrowed
themselves at Valinthras as the elf spoke, "Is there a point
 to these questions," he spat, "You wanted something, you
and the other Apothecary. Speak what it is." He took another
 puff of his pipe. This time, Valinthras could've sworn the
ring of smoke had formed itself into a skull and crossbones.
"I deal in wants and desires... not pointless questioning!"

The forsaken man looked about the room. He scoffed under his
 breath. Although he no longer breathed, the fel energy
coming from the elf made him feel choked. Tainted. "We wish
 to end her Crusade." Vandrian tilted his head, as if he
expected a lot more, "And?"

"We want to destroy some of her work. Perhaps... slow her
down and save her from causing herself or anyone else harm."
 Valinthras paused a moment and continued, making direct eye
 contact with Vandrian this time. His left eye, in
particular, dilated as he spoke his words, "Will you aid us?"

"And what is in it for me, might I ask?" Vandrian steepled
his fingers impatiently, repositioning himself even more.
Muscles rippled down his tan skin as tension overcame his
relaxed state. He stared daggers straight into Valinthras'
blackened soul, and while it made the forsaken man quite
uncomfortable, he took the brunt of force.

Voices whispered to him again. The spirits within his
subconscious. They animated the mouths of the shoulderplates
 he wore. They spoke evil, awful things, almost snake-like
in color. 'Kiiilll hhiiimmm.' 'Eeeaatt hhiimmm!' 'Devvouurr
hisssss immorrtaaall sssssouulll!' He shook the voices away,
 holding his head a bit in pain before regaining composure.

"Well isn't it obvious, Vandrian? She will forget this
research of hers and come back to you." Vandrian waved the
notion away with a snide statement, "I think you
misunderstand," he chuckled between words, a hateful flurry
 of powerful movements, "She is already mine. I do not
suffer angst at her temporal departure. I have plenty of
time -- she will return soon enough."

The whispers began again, and the shadowy man fought hard
to suppress them with his own words. He elevated his voice
slightly, "If that is what you believe." The elf's muscles
rippled again as he spoke through clenched teeth, "It is
what I know, Valinthras! I did not marry Lellenthyr
Windsphere without knowing all I could about her. She is rash!
She is impulsive! She is... cunning.. She served me for
years before I married her.

The voices were yelling at him now. They were yelling at
Valinthras to take initiative against the warlock, but he
pushed them back, nodding gravely. "Very well. I will press no
further."

He turned to leave, but Vandrian stopped him with a
statement, "Oh, and Valinthras?" The forsaken looked over
his shoulder. Vandrian leaned back slowly on the couch, his
eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. All humanity drained
from his voice as he spoke with ice on his tongue, "I will
suffer no harm against my wife by any who walk this plane.
I want that made very clear. My vengeance will extend far
beyond this life and into every successive existence after
that."

Shadowy figures overtook the forsaken's mind a bit. He could
 feel tendrils creeping down his arms and his voice became
ethereal as he stepped through the curtain.

"Trust me, Vandrian. No harm will come to her."