Interlude

           SylvanasWindrunner,formerranger-generalofQuel’Thalas,banshee,andDarkLadyoftheForsaken,strodefromtheroyalquarterswiththesamequick,lithestrideshehadhadinlife.Shepreferredhercorporealformforordinary,everydayactivities.HerleatherbootsmadenosoundonthestoneflooroftheUndercity,butallheadsturnedtowatchtheirlady.Shewasuniqueandunmistakable.

           Once,herhairhadbeengolden,hereyesblue,herskinthecolorofafreshpeach.Once,shehadbeenalive.Nowherhair,oftencoveredbyablue-blackcowl,wasblackasmidnightwithwhitestreaksandherformerlypeach-huedskinafaint,pearlyblue-gray.She’dchosentodonthearmorshehadworninlife,well-tooledleatherthatrevealedmostofherslenderbutmusculartorso.Herearstwitchedatthemurmurings;shedidnotoftenventureforthfromherchambers.Shewasrulerofthiscity,andtheworldcametoher.

           BesideherhurriedMasterApothecaryFaranell,headoftheRoyalApothecarySociety,whowastalkinganimatedlyandsimpering."Iammostgratefulyouagreedtocome,mylady,"hesaid,tryingtobowandwalkandspeakatthesametime."Youdidsayyouwishedtobeinformedwhentheexperimentsweresuccessful,andyouwantedtoseethemyourselfoncewe—"

           "Iamwellawareofmyownorders,Doctor,"SylvanassnappedastheybegantodescendawindingcorridorintothebowelsoftheUndercity.

           "Ofcourse,ofcourse.Hereweare.