UNDERCITY

A once proud kingdom, Lordaeron was mostly devoid of its original human inhabitants after the murder of their King and the spread of the Scourge plague. Then the capital city was abandoned being turned into a Scourge stronghold when Prince Arthas left for Northrend.

In the absence of humans and Scourge forces, the Forsaken led by the Banshee Queen had laid claim over much of the dead kingdom's territory. Which had led to them taking over the capital city's ruins after clearing the royal crypts, sewers, and dungeons of risen Scourge.

Renaming it Undercity, the Forsaken used it as their base of operations and it further served as a major hub of the Horde after coming to terms with the Warchief.

And now, the Dark Lady Sylvanas ruled from what once served as the royal crypts of Lordaeron.

The atmosphere inside the dimly lit chamber was still and icy, as if even the air itself feared to disturb the black-clad occupant in the center of the room.

Sylvanas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen, had been lost in thought for hours with none of her attendants making a sound when there was a whisper of movement in the halls leading to the Royal Quarter.

She lifted her head as a few of her Forsaken marched in and kneeled uniformly before her dais. She coldly eyed the the highest ranking among them, "You may speak."

"My queen," came the rough voice of the target of her scrutiny. "A letter has come, from the Warchief for your eyes alone."

One of the attendants retrieved the letter from the courier and brought it to her.

Letter in hand she dismissed the party from her sight, so she could read without distraction. When she was finished, her thoughts turned inwards.

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The Scourge had long been a thorn in her side, a constant reminder of her own death. And the man who first killed her, and then punished her further with an unholy revival, transforming her into a cursed banshee.

The letter in hand was getting mangled the longer she thought of that arrogant man.

Prince Arthas.

She had been disappointed that he hadn't been the one leading the attacks from Naxxramas. She would have loved to harvest his head for what he had done to her.

But the right hand of the Lich King had not been seen since he had departed for the northern continent, Northrend.

And as for the Lich King himself, she had rejoiced when she had slipped free from his control years ago as had all her fellow Forsaken. And they would all rejoice again when he was dead. And here, here was a chance that greatly appealed to her.

The command of a future invasion fleet. The Horde portion of a allied force. To wield one of the daggers aimed at the Scourge.

Before the battles in Naxxramas, she would have most certainly declined. But the reports detailing the battles in the floating Scourge fortress had dispelled her greatest fear.

The fear that the Lich King would be able to dominate the Forsaken once more. Yet not a single one of her troops had been turned, despite the Lich King's power being channeled through the skilled lich, Kel'Thuzad.

This was the perfect chance. Command of the invasion force would allow her to choose the targets. And Sylvanas already knew who her priority target would be. She just had to accept.

She spoke dispassionately to an inconspicuous empty space to her side, "Varimathras."

A moment later a bat-winged demon slipped out of concealment and smoothly bowed, "Yes, my Queen?"

"Send word to the Warchief.", she instructed. "Let him know that I accept." She then flooded the letter with her essence, causing it to dissipate into dust.

Sylvanas smirked as the demon wordlessly accepted her command and soon had a courier receive the message and run out. One of her few enjoyments in undeath was belittling the dreadlord through mundane small tasks.

Despite him not showing her any emotion, she knew it would cause the demon no small irritation, knowing that she knew he didn't know what she was agreeing to.

"Will that be all my Queen?"

"No. Have my champion withdraw our forces from the Plaguelands back to the Bulwark."

"Yes my Queen. Do you-"

She dismissively waved the demon off mid sentence and Varimathras bowed once more and summoned another courier who came and went before he vanished in place, waiting obediently until she needed him again.

The room soon returned to its icy calm as Sylvanas's thoughts returned to her greatest desire. Killing Arthas.

The Dark Lady vowed that the unholy Prince would soon pay the price for her abominable fate.