Lilliandras keeled over, clutching her chest. She could not breathe...
Struggling for the desire of fresh air in her lungs, she crawled towards the lake. Damn.... why did she ever went this far....
Struggling, burning with white hot fire, a searing pain throughout her entire being, she stood up and stumbled towards the clear blue lake in the Western Plaguelands. The Caer Darrow loomed over her like a dragon over it's prey.
Faster...
There it was. Now she only had to -
She tripped, and landed on her wrist. It gave a painfull snap, and the bone tore through her skin. Tears escaped her eyes, but she did not scream. She couldn't. she wouldn't. Using her good arm, she pulled herself towards the lake.

Finally arriving, she plunged her face into the freezing cold water. Not long after, she plunged in completely. The burning sensation resided slightly. She curled up like an unborn infant, as she slowly sank to the lake floor. The moment she felt the illness fade to a minimum, she launched herself upwards.

She did not know how long she lay there, nor how cold it was. All she knew was that she had to control this... but there was nothing near-by that she could use. Andorhall was too far away, and she had ran out of crystals.
still clutching her chest, the searing pain had come back. There was no notion of when it would reside, because it wouldn't. It would never go away...

"Well well well.... ain't you in a little position..."
She turned her head, and saw a human, and by the way he dressed, she concluded he was a spellweaver.
"Here I was, hoping to find a worthy adversairy, and what do I find? A pathetic Horde scum. And a weak Forsaken even."
The mage grinned victoriously, and held one hand aloft.
"Well, the best part I can do for ya is put you out of your misery..."
Conjuring up blue flames, he took several steps closer to Lilliandras.

Without willing it, her pupils narrowed to a mere slit, and shadows started to engulf her. The mage froze, his smile faltering momentarily. But then he smiled again.
"Your magics ain't gonna work, corpse, no matter how strong you think you are. I'm an archmage of Stormwind. Ain't no Horde prick in Azeroth who can -"
He never finished his sentence. The broken priest had vanished before his very eyes.
Scowling, he flicked his eyes from left to right.
Listening intently, he suddenly heard a dark voice chanting something. The chant was simple, yet it was constantly repeated.

"Dor'sane ra'haab ie'karo... Tzeen'kora acha'aal..."

Then it stopped.
Waiting for another moment, the mage scowled and let the flames disappear.
"Stupid coward..."
He turned to leave, but it was then he realized that he could not move his legs.
As he looked down, he saw in horror that shadows were holding him down. And the longer he looked, he realized these were not mere shadows...
He saw a set of razor sharp teeth, and a pair of hellish dark eyes. And not just one, but at least 4.
He prepaired a spell, but before he could unleash it, 3 more Shadow Fiends sprung to life and locked his arms and head. He could here their rattling breaths, hee felt their hunger... and yet they did not move.

Shadows gathered in front of the human, and from it rose a figure. Lilliandras, engulved in silent black flames, creeped closer to the mage.

In a flash, her hand grasped the mage's face, and she ripped out something ethereal. The mage could not scream. He never had the chance. As the shadow fiends evaporated with a devious snarl, the mage collapsed to the floor.

Slowly, the shadow 'round the priestess vanished. Panting, she stared at the dead human, slightly surprised. She did not kill him. Yet, as tough as his demeanor was, he had died from shock. Chuckling, slightly amused, she tended to her broken wrist with a small healing spell.

Sniffing in the cool air of the Caer Darrow, she channeled her magic throughout her body. Praying to the aspect Malygos to forgive her sin, she merged the magic she took from the human with her own. She cursed her bloodline for ever being dependable on the Sunwell. She had hoped that, after her death, the magic addiction would fade. In a way, it had. She had no trouble summoning the spells without the Sunwell's presence. But yet, the moments the addiction had taken it's toll, she came but an inch to death.

Sighing, she levitated herself, and floated across the water, towards Tirisfal Glades.

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I hopes you found it entertaining :)