The city of Dalaran was a feat in architecture, of that there was no doubt. It's opulent spires, and domed buildings were the envy of many an architect throughout the kingdoms.

The magi built Dalaran as a haven for those who practised the magic arts, in particular arcane. They had tired of the restraints imposed by the monarchs of the land and so studied their craft within the domed city. Built over leylines enabling the mages and wizards to channel their powers more effectively, over time the metropolis attracted more spell-wielders from all over Azeroth.

It had suffered dramatically during the Second War with the Horde. Having provided vast amounts of support to the Alliance of Lordaeron during this war, builders were sent to aid the mages and sorcerers to rebuild the city. Its inhabitants and founders worked diligently alongside each other, and the reconstruction of the city commenced, arriving at what it was today. But it was not all muscle and brawn which rebuilt the city, after all, what was the use of magic if not to create something of beauty at least.

The ruling body in the city, The Kirin Tor, oversaw the use of magic and actively pursued the many sources located throughout the lands, taking great care to catalogue and store all finds.

The Council of Six, High Council of the Kirin Tor, would rule from the wondrous Chamber of Air. It was rumoured their identities were concealed from all who appeared before them, keeping their supremacy absolute.

But, it was one of those Six who Sauren Nightflame and his two guards rode into the city to meet. They would not be meeting in the Chamber of Air, however, so no mask would be worn by his host; besides they knew each other well.

The Crimson Blades were to go to a house on the east of the city, where the individual would await their arrival. Their business would be shielded from prying eyes and ears by a simple secrecy ward. Nothing unusual in that, it was expected. Even in a city made up mainly of wizard's and mages, these individuals had interests outside their magical pursuits, preferring to keep them private.

Sauren dismounted with his usual flourish and drank in the calming violet hues of the city. His guards shouted over a young boy, asking him if he wanted to earn some silver for a few hours work. The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. They told him to look after their horses and see that they were fed and watered. The boy's face lit up, and he took the reins of all three mounts and led them to stables nearby.

The door of the house opened, and a man in purple and white robes came out to greet Sauren and his men. The man looked like any other. Almost six foot tall, of a reasonably medium build and just showing the beginnings of a slight paunch, he was a relatively fit individual, for one who spent the bulk of his life bent over books, scrolls and maps. 

A well-travelled man nonetheless he also bore the weather-beaten skin of one who had endured many different climates and environments. Medium brown hair in a floppy bob framed his bearded face out of which piercing blue eyes beheld the world with the arrogance of one who was all-knowing and experienced in the many forms of pure magic. "Welcome, Sauren. It has been a while, although of course, my travels have been mainly to blame for that."

"Indeed, old man, you were gone for quite a while. How fares the lands in the north?"

"Cold, my friend. Cold. Please, why don't you come in and make yourself at home, our acquaintance shall arrive soon, I believe."

Sauren gave a small bow of his head before entering the house ahead of the mage. His men followed closely behind.

Instantly they were teleported to another location; the mage certainly believed in total secrecy.

They stepped into an extravagantly furnished room, with an enormous fireplace as its focal point, in which a man could easily stand. On two walls hung landscapes, no doubt of places where the mage travelled to over the years. A sizeable decorative window graced the north wall, allowing subtle light into the opulent room. Behind them where they had entered, bookshelves lined the rest of the wall.

An enormous chandelier hung suspended in the centre of the room, its source of light, no doubt created by magic.

"I see you have been redecorating," Sauren smiled as the mage passed him and strolled to a cabinet. There, bottles of wine and glasses were laid out on a tray.

"Yes. Well, one has to use one's wealth, Sauren, not store it away to collect dust."

"It collects interest too, you forget about that."

"Hmph, the bank also takes its cut, Sauren."

The Blade leader laughed lightly. "Everyone has to make a living."

"I dare say." The mage offered him a glass of wine and looked to him for permission to provide his men with the same courtesy. Sauren nodded. The two guards thanked the mage and followed their leader towards sumptuous seating. Sauren, of course, took the most prestigious of chairs, leaving his guards to sit behind him on more straightforward seats.

"Shall we wait for our friend, or do you wish to start?" the mage asked his guest as he took a seat on the couch across from leather-clad rogue.

"I suggest we make a start. He will make his usual dramatic entrance no doubt when he is good and ready."

"Very well. So, what is it you have come to offer, Sauren."

"An opportunity," Sauren said, taking a sip of his wine and savouring its flavour.

"In return for?"

"A guarantee that my guild will be unaffected when the time comes for you to unleash your army."

"My army? And what army would that be, Sauren?" The mage crossed his right knee with his left and also took a sip of wine.

"Come now, let us not play games here. Your journey to the wastes of Northrend was for a purpose - was it not? You held another meeting there if I am not mistaken."

"Ah, your rogue network crosses many leagues, my friend."

Sauren smiled, his perfect teeth flashing.

"So, this opportunity then. What is it?" the older man asked.

"The Barov's, you have heard of them?"

"Yes. The own lands, namely Brill, Tarren Mill and Southshore."

"Quite," Sauren nodded. He rose and strolled to the fireplace, running his slender fingers over the impressive carved mantle. He checked his tips as if inspecting for dust, then rubbing his fingers together he continued. "Now they have taken on Caer Darrow in the middle of Darrowmere Lake. They are currently restoring it following the Horde's assault on the fortress during the war."

The mage listened, wondering what relevance the Blade leader thought it bore to his needs.

Sauren took another sip and proceeded to answer the mage's unspoken question. "Your interest in necromancy has met with disapproval from the Council of Six, I believe?"

The mage nodded, his interest piqued.

"The Barov's are, how shall we say....discontented with their lot and are looking to expand their assets. Beneath the fortress on the island is a complex maze once used as dungeons and quite frankly it would be a mammoth task even for the Barov's to try and do anything with it, over and above the upper areas of the fortress."

The mage sat forward. "Real estate then?"

The Blade leader nodded. "Would it not be the perfect location for a school in your favoured form of magic? And, as you have already intimated, your wealth simply collects dust." The brown eyes flashed over the rim of his glass as he took another sip.

"And the Barov's are looking for a buyer?"

"Indeed they are or perhaps to be more accurate, an investor."

The mage stood and crossed over to the cabinet and picked up the bottle of wine, returning to Sauren, refilling his glass. "I would say then, Sauren, we have a deal." He lifted his glass in a toast. "To real estate."

Sauren mirrored the mage's gesture. "To our deal, Kel'Thuzad." He bowed.

The mage tilted his head, a sound having caught his attention. "Ah, our friend has arrived. One moment please." He put down his glass and exited the room. A few moments later, he re-entered and went to collect another glass, filling it with wine for his new guest.

"Well, hello gentlemen, what a quaint little gathering we have today," a voice said from the doorway.

Sauren lifted his eyes to the doorway. "Hello again, Dar'Khan," he said, a smirk on his face.

"Good afternoon," the well dressed Magister replied. "I trust all is well with you, and your...new recruits, Sauren?"

The guild master took a deep breath. "Ah yes, I have a bone to pick with you about that."

Dar'Khan accepted the glass given to him by his host. "Oh, I thought our 'introduction' at the wedding was persuasive actually?"

Sauren nodded in response. "It was. However, you did not do a good enough job deterring the ebony-haired boy. I had to use the network to ensure he would not become a problem."

"Hmm, I did warn him not to get too cosy with her. It seems his urges must match yours, where she is concerned. Talking of which, how is our little Tiene -" The mage paused, watching the Guild Master over the rim of his glass. "- bedding in?" he asked.

Sauren glared. "She will do well, but she needs time to bloom. I want her to be as good if not better than her parents in the skills of an assassin."

"Change of tact for you then? Do you mean to tell me your brain has travelled all the way up to your skull again?"

The guild leader snarled at the Magister.

"Now gentlemen, let's keep this civil," Kel'Thuzad intervened. He waited to ensure their egos backed down before continuing. "Dar'Khan, Sauren has come to me with an exciting proposal and one which I think will fit in perfectly with your search for more magic and power."

"Oh, really?" Dar'Khan could not conceal the sarcasm in his voice. "Then, do tell. We all have our - vices, after all."

Sauren gritted his teeth, fighting down the urge to come out with an equally snide remark to Dar'Khan, but he remained quiet; his time would come.

Kel'Thuzad filled Dar'Khan in on discussions up to now, emphasising that they were still talking years for their plans to come to fruition.

The flamboyant Magister clucked his tongue; he was growing tired of always having to wait for recognition and more power to be awarded him. Kel'Thuzad assured him it would be worth the wait, the rewards at the end would surpass even the Magister's expectations. Besides, he foresaw that Dar'Khan would have a significant role to play if all went according to plan.

The three conspirators finally raised their glasses - a toast to seal the deal.

Yes, it would take time, but then again, you did not hurry Ner'zhul, the Lich King - nor the Burning Legion.

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