Prologue

The center of the Maelstorm was never quiet, but the inhabitants of Nazjatar never noticed it anymore

Not so for one interesting newcomer. The newly revived Illidan Stormrage stood before Queen Azshara's gargantuan person, feeling amber eyes study him closely.

"Why did you bring me back from the Nether?" he asked. His large demonic wings flapped, creating a small gust of air.

Azshara, Queen of Nazjatar, rested on the floor of her great hall. Once, she had been unrivaled in beauty, but her corruption by the Old Gods, and her own malevolence, transformed her into a creature of pure evil. Her torso was still elven, but it was covered in green scales and four arms protruded from it, two carrying the famed spears of Suramar. Her legs had formed five long tentacles, adorned with a myriad of jewels and gold, and she now stood twenty feet tall, but strangely she still retained some of her old beauty. From her head snakes hissed in an unending crescendo. "Your work was not done, Illidan," Azshara said with a laugh. "I still needed you." Azshara's voice remained the same even though almost everything else had changed. It was still the beautiful slow seductive song it had always been.

Illidan shook his head. The goat-like horns that curled from his brow made the gesture more imposing. Illidan, just like Azshara, had once been a night elf, but after he absorbed the Skull of Guldan he became a demon. "I thought I had finally gained my well-deserved rest," Illidan grumbled, "my most gracious and beautiful queen."

"You always were a flatter Illidan," Azshara said with another of her seductive laughs. "I think I may have missed you." Naga maidservants from behind the throne watched the encounter between the two curiously.

Illidan surveyed the hall, clearly distracted. The palace had been built underwater and only a few spells protected him from drowning. It was decorated with scales of many colors, and he wondered how many fish it took to build this. "How could someone not flatter you?" Illidan said after a pause. "You are the very center of this world, no one could compare to you."

Illidan flinched when he felt Azshara's tentacle lightly stroke his cheek. "And soon more will think as you do. For you see Illidan, I have a plan." The playful tone faded from her voice. "And you will be the key to fulfilling it!"

"And what is this great plan?" Illidan asked, pulling away from the tentacle.

Azshara started to move out of the door. A stream of pearly white energy reached towards Illidan and covered him, causing the runes on his chest glowed brightly. He followed Azshara out of the hall, the water that should have drowned him couldn't get through the arcane barrier.

Azshara swam through the palace, moving with a grace that seemed strange for her gargantuan body. The water itself seemed to create currents to carry her. Illidan followed with less grace, but he still kept up with the demigoddess.

As they made their way through the palace, they met a few more naga along the way. Descendants Azshara's elite Highborne, they had faced a similar transformation to that of their mistress. No longer was their skin a deep purple, but instead they were covered in bright green scales. Their legs were now long serpentine tales. The females retained some of their elven features, but the males looked monstrous. Sea witches the elite amongst the naga sirens, sported heads full of snakes.

Once Azshara had led Illidan through the dizzying halls of her massive palace they exited through a small gate. Outside the gate Illidan saw more naga, and a few of their murloc slaves building more houses. "What is this?" he asked Azshara. She ignored him and began to swim to the surface.

Illidan felt the pearly energy begin to raise him through the let it lift him up, but he still flapped his wings out of habit. Suddenly the sea brightened all around him, and he knew he was near the surface.

When Illidan poked his head out of the water, he saw Azshara waiting for him on a nearby island. "We are close Illidan," Azshara said. "Soon you will witness my masterpiece.

The energy around Illidan disappeared and he felt himself sink, he flapped out of the water using his wings and his own demonic magic. "Lead on my queen," he said.

Azshara began to drag herself across the small beach towards the jungle that lay at its edge, tentacles more hindrance than help on dry land. Illidan followed without complaint.

As they reached the entrance to the jungle, Azshara lifted her two empty hands and the snakes on her head hissed loudly. Streams of pearly white energy poured from her palms, and where they touched the jungle it seemed to shrink and create a path. Azshara began to slide along the trail, gone was the grace she had underwater.

Illidan studied the jungle with interest. All the plants seemed full of arcane and demonic energy. The flora was almost as vibrant as Kael'thas had told him that of Quel'thalas' had once been, and that had been because of the Sunwell. What had Azshara created on this small nondescript island?

Azshara suddenly stopped in front of him. "We are here Illidan," she said. "Behold the new Well of Eternity!"

Illidan looked beyond Azshara to see seven naga witches and eight strange naga men. Unlike the hulking myrmidons, the male naga were slender and handsome, and like the sea witches they had snakes on their heads. All the naga had six scaly arms. They stood around a large pool, seemingly conducting a spell. The water in the pool constantly shifted and flashed.

A second look revealed to Illidan that the naga looked strangely familiar. "Who are they?"

"You sixteen are the last of my original Highborne that still live to serve me," Azshara said.

Illidan felt the energies coming from the well envelop him and he felt euphoric. Something was different though, the magic contained a taint. "What have you done Azshara?" Illidan asked.

"What had to be done!" Azshara exclaimed. "I recreated the Well in my own image! No one will be able to stand against me."

"It is beautiful," Illidan whispered sarcastically. The new well was dangerous to say the least, and to have it so close to the palace spoke of Azshara's madness.

"All it requires is you," Azshara said. She appeared not to have heard Illidan's comment.

"What do you wish of me Azshara?" Illidan asked, moving closer to the well. His "eyes" revealed to him the power of the well. A few of the naga Highborne watched him curiously.

"Summon a demon for me," Azshara told him sweetly.

"As you wish my queen," Illidan said. He moved closer to the well and he sent a stream of bright green energy towards it. Illidan joined his power with that of the others. Focusing their magic he called forth a demon from the Twisting Nether.

A portal began to form above the well. It grew as the naga added more energy to it, and a large doggish beast began to form in its center.

It took several minutes for the beast to materialize fully. Though canine in appearance it had horns protruding from its head and one single large claw instead of a paw at the end of each leg. Orange scales covered it, and tentacles waved near its horns. The tentacles seemed to be constantly searching.

"A fel stalker," Azshara whispered. Fel stalkers were demons that hunted mages and other magic users; they were an arcanist's nightmare. "Come to me," she said to the beast. She lured it nearer with some of her magic, which the fel stalker eagerly tried to devour.

"Careful my queen," Illidan cautioned, stepping towards Azshara.

"Do not worry Illidan," Azshara said. "He won't hurt me."

The fel stalker began to walk towards Azshara, who laughed and sent more of her energy towards it, enveloping it in the pearly-white stream.

The demon began to whimper and Azshara laughed again. The fel stalker's scales began to turn green, and it grew gills on its neck. As its tail began to turn fish like, the whimpering intensified. Finally the fel stalker let out a loud yelp.

When Azshara was done her magical energy returned to her. The fel stalker had changed dramatically. Green scales covered its body, and its tail had become more serpentine. Its head appeared to be more draconian. "It is beautiful," Azshara whispered. "Yes, the Burning Legion in my image!"