Sylvanas never wanted to be this way. She never wanted to become this...thing...that she was. But here she was. Her life was over...but she couldn't end the miserable existence that was reffered to as 'unlife'. How she wished that she could. She didn't want to kill the people who had once been her allies...no...she only wanted to kill Arthas...but she couldn't allow the destruction of her people, so she had to fight against those she had once known. If only Arthas hadn't made her this miserable thing. She had died an honourable death, fighting for her people, but then he had raised her from her death and made her into the one thing that she had hated the most. She couldn't change what she was, so she rode on. On to kill the bastard that had made her into the creature that she was...on...to die.