Ancient guardians of magic they are.
The are stalwart in their sacred duty.
Nearly obliterated from the dark betrayal.
The dark betrayal of their brothers.
The fell into the endless sorrow.
Their might leader driven insane and lost.
Lost without their blessed leader to guide them.
In that weakness the dark creatures of death slaughtered them.
Arose them from the dead in the dark king's service.
Yet through the princess the spell-weaver has regained his sanity.
In the rise of their new dawn.
They declare war on all magic users.
They see themselves as the only ones worthy to weild the ancient art of magic.
Those who side and serve them are granted the honor of weilding magic.
The other brothers and sisters have risen to drive them back from their crusade.
They stand alone.
Enemies of the Horde.
Enemies of the Alliance.
Enemies of the Wyrmrest Accord.
Yet hope remains.
For all not have joined the Spell-Weaver's crusade.
Through the guardian of the sunwell.
Hope shall come and with it a brighter future for them.
The Blue Dragonflight.