A small experiment.

[Inzema]

Inzema adjusted his goggles and face mask, then picked up the steaming vial filled with boiling orange liquid.  He swirled it around, checking the contents for the proper viscosity before nodding and pouring it into a beaker that already contained several different colors of liquids and chemicals.  The concoction bubbled and became one uniform color, releasing a foul smelling cloud of red gas from the top, billowing about the room until a cork was put in place by the forsaken alchemist.  He grinned, shut off the flame of the burner, and threw a tarp over his laboratory table.  The experiment was ready.

-~-~-

Dalaran, midday. People running, riding, and flying this way and that.  Merchants calling into the crowds, selling this, that, and the other thing.  If you want it, chances are you can buy it in Dalaran.  The dull roar of the collective voices of the gathered residents of everywhere in Azeroth jockeying to be heard over the commotion was dampened slightly by the several feet of stone and masonry between them and Inzema, sitting in the sewers beside a device the size of a large tauren.  On one side was a glass tank connected to a giant bellows, with an engine for pumping the device and a cloth and tar tube running skyward towards the sewer grate, branching off and running every which way throughout the sewers, positioned to release their payload, when activated, into the unsuspecting populous above.

Inzema cackled as he dropped the flask of fluid into the tank and sealed it.  The flask dropped to the bottom of the tank and shattered, releasing the contained fluid, which quickly became a cloud of gas that filled the entire tank.  Inzema continued laughing, mumbling incoherently to himself as he did, and flipped a series of switches, causing the device to begin whirring and humming as it prepared for its task.  With a final "Ah HA!", Inzema slammed his left fist into a large red button on the control panel of the device, sending the bellows to work.  The bellows inflated, assisted by a mechanical arm, filled with the red gas, and deflated, pushing the gas through the machine and into the tubes.  Above, on the main streets of Dalaran, a thin red haze began to collect, first at the feet, then building and growing. 

It didn't take long for the gas to be noticed, mostly because of the cries of surprise and coughs of the assembled Gnomish Cheese Enthusiasts Guild, their large noses far closer to the heavy fog than any others.  After two or three fell into convulsions, the others began to panic, which led to the taller residents of Azeroth to begin to notice the fog.  High ground became a commodity as the cloud continue to grow in size, and the flight landing became a madhouse as adventurers and merchants ran for their winged steeds to escape the smoke.  Five minutes was all it took for the gas to consume the entirety of Dalaran, settling at a level that allowed it to consume all walkable area in Dalaran.  Dalaran was still within the smoke, save for the the convulsions of those still caught within.

Inzema emerged from the sewers, wearing a mask that, from the sound of it, was filtering the gas from the breathable air, allowing the forsaken to ignore the toxins in the air.  He surveyed the twitching bodies scattered around him and smiled, an action completely lost underneath the filters.  The gas was beginning to dissipate, the red cloud becoming less predominant.

And as suddenly as it became, the red gas was gone.

Inzema watched with a lecherous grin on his face as every single woman among the cround stood as one and fixed their eyes on him.  They all, as one, uttered his name, and walked towards him, while every male stayed still as in death.  The first of the horde of women approaching the forsaken reached him, touching his body, pulling off clothes, be it theirs or his. The forsaken cackled, and muttered something about the "best experiment ever."\

Then he woke up.