In the snowy lands of Northrend all was calm. The sun had just risen, the aspects and ambassadors of the Dragonflights gathered at the top of Wyrmrest temple. Dragonblight may've found the scourge less of a threat with Arthas dead, but the infinite Dragonblight, as well as the remains of Malygos's spawns, still threatened the order of things. Each of the ambassadors, as well as the Dragon Queen, sat down in large stone chairs that had been placed in the temple recently. Their discussion began without much hesitation. "Rumors are spreading, and paranoia is setting in amongst the mortal races" started Alexstraza, in her mortal form she wore small plates of clothing just barely enough to cover her dark brown skin, horns protruded from her almost human head of dark red hair. "What kinds of rumors my Queen?" question a man across from her. The man wore a green, black, and brown robe, a mantle that seemed to be carved from wood in the shape of bird like wings, his hair was long and blonde, his eyes glowed green, and his voice was deep, yet concerned. "More rumors of Deathwing? Or others?" he spoke again. "Both, Itharius, Those who know of him speak of Deathwing's return, those who don't have said all from the return of the Dragonmaw orcs, to the rising of the burning legion. All of these rumors concern me, if those orcs return here, it means they think they have something to use against us, they know the power of the dragons, as well as the alliance, all too well. As for the legion, they possibly see this as a time to strike, while the lich king is of little threat to their power. I do not think I need to speak of my concerns of Deathwing. Malygos is dead, Nozdormu gone, Ysera sleeps deeply, fighting the corruption of the emerald dream, I alone am the only aspect capable of fighting him now." there is deep worry in the dragon Queens’s voice. A slightly higher pitched female voice is heard now, "you are not the only one of your kind anymore, nor do the other aspects lack in numbers, or power. Not to mention the ample supply of mortal heroes merely waiting for the chance to throw themselves into glory." The attention goes to a small Gnome girl, cloaked in a small white, gold, and black robe, her silver hair woven into two buns on the back of her head. Alexstraza almost glares at the girl "Chromie, you know I dislike using mortals to fight our battles! Neltharion is my brother, and my fight!" just as Chromie opens her mouth to retaliate; all of the guards around the open chamber turn on one direction, up and toward the entrance of the chamber. All of the ambassadors peer in the same direction now, searching the sky for the disturbance, a large portal appearing in the sky, quickly a man with dark blue hair and leather harnessed vest studies the portal and turns to the queen "The portal comes from the Outlands my queen! perhaps the mortal's rumors were correct!" the man who silently stood next to Alexstraza stepped forward, drawing a sword from his waist and facing the portal, "Then we shall meet them! Prepare for battle!" but just as he spoke, the creator of the portal flew through. It descended rapidly toward the temple's tower, large torn and tattered wings flapped violently in an attempt to slow down, but they were futile, finally the creature shouted in a desperate tone "Move! I.. I can't slow down MOVE!" the creature continues to flap the damaged and useless wings futilely, barely, if at all, slowing himself down, and slightly shifting his direction a small bit downward. When he finally hit, his midsection had slammed into the thick stone ledge that was the entrance to the temple council room. The dragon let out no real cry of pain, only a slight whimper and he struggled to claw his way up, failing, and falling to the ground. His vision blurred already, the nether dragon slowly slipped from consciousness; his last partial site was that of red dragons descending around him. The dragon knew he had reached his destination.