I was born in the Badlands in the days following the Cataclysm a Black Dragon by blood. Perhaps the last of my kind. My egg was stolen from my mother by the Red Dragonflight. Once they had what they needed, my mother was murdered. They experimented on my egg. They tried to sever my connection with the other black dragons, so that I would be pure. They were more successful than they had bargained for. When my father found out about this travesty he was … displeased. Perhaps you have heard of my father? His name is Deathwing. My story would’ve ended there, with the death of the Red Dragon who created me. But she was tricky, that one. She was burned alive with a decoy in her hands. MY egg was spirited away to the Red Dragonflight. There I was held captive… for a time. This is Ravenholdt Manor. Shortly before I was born, the assassins of Ravenholdt stole my egg from the Red Dragonflight, the story of my deliverance hinges on a most unusual Rogue. Suffice it to say he was a thief of global renown. This individual came to my attention when the Red Dragonflight sent him to infiltrate Ravenholdt Manor and retrieve my egg. No doubt our hero expected to snatch up an egg and steal away into the night. But instead he found something unexpected… me.