moonshadows

"You will need a mortal guise, little Blue," Korialstrasz said condescendingly as the two dragons adjourned to a balcony in preparation for their teleportation to the mage's city of Dalaran. "The city was not designed for us in our full glory."

"I know," the Blue whined, feet stamping restlessly. A swirl of magic and he vanished, replaced by a female night elf whose braids bounced with her impatience.

Slowly, the Red followed suit until the visage of a dignified, older blood elf looked sternly into the younger, blue-tinged lilac face. "I have enough reputation that your nature will not be doubted; I have served on the Council for many years."

Silver eyes rolled. "Who hasn't?" Another effortless swirl, and the young Kal'dorei became an older, slightly-dumpy Quel'dorei whose hair was flaming red where it wasn't steel grey. Her blue eyes twinkled, distinctly at odds with the habitually stern frown on her lips.

Krasus stared. He recognized the image, of course. Despite the fact that she'd been dead for several centuries, she was still revered for her work in the founding of Dalaran and the Kirin Tor. After a moment, he shook his head. "I think you had better stick to the Kal'dorei. Somehow, I doubt that the Council of Six is ready to learn exactly how involved the Dragonflights have been in Dalaran's history.

Once more wearing blue hair and lilac skin, Azureon grinned. "You have no idea." Once more she bounced impatiently. "Are we gonna go, or what?"