Siege of Orgrimmar Ending Cinematics Revealed

Written by Ian Bates on . Posted in Dungeon & Raids, Dungeons & Regions Lore, Lore, Patch 5.4 - Siege of Orgrimmar, World of Warcraft News, World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria, Wrathion Legendary Questline

Thrall n Varian

THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS AND ME LORE-NERD-ING ABOUT THEM. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

First of all, I must give credit to Availed on Anvilmar-US for the world first Garrosh defeat, Apophasis for the first horde Garrosh defeat, and Silencer for uploading the following videos.

Now, in a first for Blizzard, upon defeating Garrosh, the raid receives a different cinematic depending on their faction. Each version has a scene unique to the Horde/Alliance showing their perspective on what should happen after Garrosh’s defeat.

South Seas Lore: The Eye—Maelstrom

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Blizzard Games News, Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic, World of Warcraft News

Beneath the swirling vortex of raging arcane magic that is the Maelstrom lies the Eye.  The Maelstrom is the scar that marks the implosion of the Well of Eternity.  Event that happened 10,000 years ago at the end of the War of the Ancients.

Sargeras was about to enter Azeroth, when the champions severed the highborne’s spellwork.  I may have to re-read War of the Ancients Trilogy.  For some odd reason a memory glitch makes me wonder if it destabilized when Deathwing swooped down to take the demon soul from under the highborne’s nose. That would make him a selfish-heroic figure—nvm.

Anyway, the portal was severed and the Well of Eternity imploded. The land sunk around Suramar, and the ocean surrounding the massive landmass of ancient Kalimdor rushed in to fill the immense gap, submerging everything under the waves.

What once was part of a massive land mass, was now known as the Great Sea.  Thus ancient Kalimdor ended up divided into three continents: Kalimdor, Northrend and what is now known as Eastern Kingdoms.  Some higher land remained above the water.  These are the known isles within the Great Sea: Tel Abim, Isle of Kezan, Zandalar Isle, Plunder Isle, Kul’Tiras, Darkspear Islands (now sunk), Hiji Isle, Gillijim’s Isle, Doctor Lapidis Isle, Crestfall, Tol Barad and Zul’Dare.

Is there anything else in The Eye? You would be surprised.  There is indeed.  Beneath the waves are various locations charted by Prospector Brann Bronzebeard during his exploration of the world.  He left Gryphadin with a goblin merchant at the Broken Isles, and with the use of a magical helmet dove into The Eye of the Maelstrom.

The Eye is but the place that once was known as Zin-Azshari (Glory of Azshara). The city built by the Night Elves around the Well of Eternity. A place now sunk and smashed to the bottom of the Great Sea. It lies now in ruins beneath the waves.

The ocean floor has many locations of interest: Nazjatar, Grishan Caverns, Mak’aru, Drowned Reaches, Pillar Deep, The Boiling Terrace, the Scintal Reef and the Rift.

The Boiling Terrace is located to the southeast of The Eye.  It has volcanoes, vents, fissures and emanate dangerous gases that swirl to the surface as large bubbles. To the southeastern edge of the Boiling Terrace is the Drowned Reaches. It is here where all the ships caught by the nigh-magnetic pull of the Maelstrom’s neverending storm vortex end up.  It is a ship graveyard. Undead may be found here.  Not Scourge Undead, but the restless sailors of many races that wander the area either as animated skeletons or zombies.  Any ships caught by the Maelstrom in the past ten thousand years ends up in the Drowned Reaches.

The Rift is the place where the Well of Eternity still exists, smashed beneath the ocean floor into Azeroth’s exposed molten core.  Red and orange light emanates from the fissure on the ocean floor.

The Scintal Reef is a coral reef on the southwest of The Eye.  This is Makrura territory.  Their capital is located within: Mak’aru.

The Grishan Caverns were formed by volcanic activity on the sea floor. The naga stays clear from this area, fearing gargantuan sea creatures may dwell within, such as the Kraken, giant octopi or giant squids—to name a few.

Mak’aru is the capital of the Makrura race—lobsterlike humanoids—who are sworn enemies of the naga.  Mak’aru is built within the Scintal Reef, made of coral terraces and organic-like buildings.  Due to their thousand of years feud with the naga, Prospector Brann Bronzebeard thinks they might serve as allies for a common goal if diplomats could convince those Makrura on the shores to seek an audience with their leaders.

Pillar Deep is on the northeast of The Eye.  It is another thermal vents location that releases steam and gas bubbles.  This place looks similar to the Thousand Needles, with thousands of stone-like pillars nigh reaching the surface—except they are not pillars at all.  They are giant tubeworms. Smaller eyeless worms inhabit the place.

Nazjatar is the capital of the Naga civilization, former Night Elves known as the Highborne.  Their leader is the fabled Queen Azshara, orchestrating and shaping the history of Azeroth from the depths of Nazjatar.  Serving the whims of the Old gods who saved her people and transformed, nah, cursed them to be the Naga.—as revealed in Warcraft: War of the Ancients Archive by Richard A. Knaak.

Nazjatar is built into the walls of The Rift, overseeing the long descent to the molten core where the once Well of Eternity still exists.  Queen Azshara is massive in size. She reigns from the place that was once her palace in ancient Zin-Azshari.

Bestiary
Creatures found in the Maelstrom: Naga, Makrura, Sea Giants, Giant Crabs, Eyeless Worms, Water Elementals, Octopi, Sharks, Hydras, Threshadons, Frenzies, Giant Squid.

The World of Warcraft RPG: Lands of Mystery is very thorough about areas of the South Seas, Northrend and Kalimdor.  For a book published on 2005, it does have a lot of accuracy with what we can find currently in World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King expansion.  Therefore, most of the South Sea content might be accurate with what Blizzard Entertainment may provide fans in a South Seas-themed expansion. Grab your PDF copy of this book here.

South Seas Lore: Zandalar Isle

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Blizzard Games News, Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic, World of Warcraft News

Zandalar Isle is ruled by King Rastakhan – a jungle troll witch doctor and keeper of troll lore. This island is the home of the Zandalar Trolls who gave us quests for Zul’Gurub to oversee the destruction of Hakkar the Soulflayer. Its capital city is Zuldazar.

To the southwest is Isle of Kezan.  To the north is the Broken Isles, and Westfall to the northeast.

Many huts, totems and ziggurats may be found scattered throughout the isle.  Zuldazar is the biggest troll structure in the world of Azeroth.  Zul’drak pales in comparison.  Prospector Brann Bronzebeard traveled here by Gryphon after his trip to Isle of Kezan. He confused a structure of a series of Ziggurats with a high mountain. A city carved out of stepped pyramids and tiered walls.

All troll tribes around the world of Azeroth send emissaries to Zandalar every six years, a tradition which purpose is to discuss matters that affect all trolls.

Locations
Mount Mugamba is the highest peak on the island. Snow covers the top of it. Ice trolls live at the top of this mountain. Ice-carved totems may be found here.

Bestiary
Hermit Crabs, monkeys, tigers, hydras, lions, Makrura and couatl.

Bestiary
Hermit Crabs, monkeys, tigers, hydras, lions, Makrura and couatl.

Religion
This is what is read on the tablet at the Altar of Zanza in Yojamba Isle, Stranglethorn Vale:

We call upon you, Zanza of Zuldazar.

Bless those that ask for your help.  Loa Zanza, Bless those that would ally with the Zandalarian people.

Aid us in this time of need.  Aid us Loa.  Give us the power to strike down our enemies.  Give us the power to once more defat the Blood god.

These bits of info may be found in the pages of World of Warcraft RPG: Lands of Mystery by White Wolf Publishing.  Most of Northrend regions lore was available in this book two years before Wrath of the Lich King was announced.  This book was published on 2005.

World of Warcraft: Burning Crusade - Shadowmoon Valley

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Shadowmoon Valley was opened to show a new order, a new ruler in Outland … Illidan the Betrayer.  Most demons such as Dreadlords and Satyrs are tagged as Illidari Servants.  One of the biggest Blood Elves settlements are found in this region. Lore fans will be intrigued to find out there are Blood Elf Demonhunter initiates training with demons tamed by Blood Elf Warlocks.  Warlocks keep the Pitlord named Azaloth banished, for he is too powerful for the trainees. A quest from the Aldor sends you to find a way to free Azaloth as a diversion and to thin the number of demonhunters.

The Bonechewer and Dragonmaw Clans have settlements in Shadowmoon Valley and seem to serve Illidan as well.  The Shadowmoon Council and an Eredar operate from Deathforge, an excavation site within a long cavern similar to the Cauldron in Searing Gorge.  Fans will also be shocked to find Gul’dan in Shadowmoon Valley to the west of the volcano named Guldan’s Hand.  It is an echo or imprint of what happened many years ago when he first chanted the ritual words of the Cipher of Damnation—which severed the harmony of the spirits of elementals and forever abandoning the Shamanistic society of the orcs. The Earthen Ring members are at Gul’dan’s hand to make sure the elementals of Outland may once more return to the Orcs. To do so the Cipher of Damnation needs to be chanted once more—and you have to kill the firelord summoned by Gul’dan years ago.

What caught our eye though was to find Maiev Shadowsong alive, held prisoner at the Warden’s Cage underground prison. She’s as arrogant and moody as usual emoting the following text: “This cell won’t hold me for long. I will have Illidan’s head one way or another”.  Akama the leader of the Broken Ones is found in front of Maiev’s Cell as a neutral NPC.  He offers a quest to players.


Akama’s Promise

Akama: To many of my people, I am known as a traitor. As Illidan’s lapdog.  It is best that they continue to think that for now.

(Akama inserts the crystal into the medallion in his hand)

I am not as strong as I once was.  Being so close to evil itself all these years.  I do not know if I can trust myself with an artifact as powerful as this.

Take this as my promise to you that when the time comes and you face Illidan, I will be on your side.  Take it to the one being we know we can trust with its power.  Take the medallion to A’dal in Shattrath City.

QUEST OBJECTIVES

Bring the Medallion of Karabor to A’dal in Shattrath City.

(As you give the medallion to A’dal, it disappears into his being in a flash of light.)

(You are briefly shown a glimpse of a moment … perhaps in the future.  You see Akama and Maiev coming out of the Warden’s Cage, fighting their way to the Dark Temple.  A third figure shrouded in shadows is aiding them.  Upon closer inspection you notice that the figure is you.)

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World of Warcraft: Burning Crusade - Blade’s Edge Mountains

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

The World of Warcraft: Burning Crusade expansion offers great sights and landscapes in Outland. One such place is Blade’s Edge Mountains, north of Zangarmarsh.  Before Draenor was torn apart, this region was the homeland of the orcish Thunderlord Clan. Khadgar and the Expedition Force were sent here by the Laughing Skull clan to destroy the Thunderlord’s Stronghold in exchange of the Book of Medivh, which the Laughing Skull clan stole from Ner’Zhul (read the Warcraft 2 campaign mission). This happened 20 years ago.

In the present, the new Horde has claimed the Thunderlord ruins to serve as their operation base. The Night Elves have a village named Sylvanaar to the southwest, and Raven’s Wood to the northwest.  The Mok’Nathal village – a race of half-ogres – is found in the Blade’s Edge Mountains at the southeast. The zone is also inhabited by the Arakkoa, a ravenous race with vulture-like features who wear colorful robes and plume headsets. A mysterious faction lives hidden in a cave named Blackwing Coven with orc, arakkoa, draenei and Broken One members. Within such coven exist black dragon eggs and whelps which rises the question whether Deathwing may be in Outland. No one knows for sure what the future may hold.

To the north, is the Ogre stronghold where you may find the dungeon named Gruul’s Lair. A Gronn. One of the demigods and thought-to-be ancestors of the Ogre race. The canyons harbor perilous creatures such as the Nether drakes, elemental flying serpents, stealthy spiders, reptiles and rock flayers.

The Burning Legion has scattered bases in the Blade’s Edge Mountains, and no surprise, for each zone of Outland has a Portal. Blade’s Edge Mountain has a portal at the Death’s Door zone – to the southeast, protected by doom engineers, demons and an Eredar. This is one of the rifts opened by Ner’zhul 20 years ago (in Warcraft II: Beyond the Dark Portal). The rift portals were sealed by Illidan the Betrayer few years ago (read the Warcraft III: Frozen Throne campaign mission).

However, players will be able to open these portals at some time. Blizzard revealed at BlizzCon 2005 there are 5 worlds planned, and two more – for a total of seven. And there may be more worlds thereafter through the lifespan of the popular MMORPG. The Blade’s Edge Mountains is named so due to the natural sharp spike-shaped rocks. While flying over the region you may see black dragon corpses impaled by these large spike formations of the mountains. Below you may take a sneak peek of how Blade’s Edge Mountains look alike.

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World of Warcraft - The Undead Plague

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

The devastating undead plague began in Northrend after the Second War. There, from the depths of the Frozen Throne, the Lich King Ner’zhul afflicted a remote human village through his will alone: a morbid test meant to gauge the plague’s effectiveness. The infected villagers died, and when their zombified corpses rose soon after, they had become lumbering, mindless servants of Ner’zhul.

The experiment was successful, but the Lich King was interested in nothing less than perfection. He contaminated every human inhabitant of Northrend, binding them to his icy will even as he continued to fine-tune his infernal disease.

Through the course of his experimentations, Ner’zhul insured that the affliction would specifically target humans for ?undeath?. Though non-human races and creatures (and even the land itself) were susceptible to the plague, it was humanity in particular that Ner’zhul meant to scour from the world. As a result, infected flora and fauna reacted differently—diseased and decaying, but not truly undead, and not under the thrall of the Lich King.

Hence, while undead representatives certainly do exist among the ranks of the non-human races, these particular agents are examples of undead created through necromancy rather than the plague.

Once Ner’zhul’s adjustments were complete, his mind reached out to Dalaran, to the disgruntled human, Kel’Thuzad. The archmage answered the call, trekking through the arctic wastes of Northrend to eventually climb the steps of the Frozen Throne*. There he pledged to act as the Lich King’s lieutenant in exchange for immortality and untold power. He was then given cauldrons of concentrated plague to spread throughout the lands of Lordaeron via his acolytes in the Cult of the Damned, and soon dead villagers throughout the realm began to rise and walk again, marching against the living in obedient servitude to their new master.

And thus, the Scourge was born into an unsuspecting world.

Naxxramas – Page 1 | Road to Damnation | The Undead Plague

Twisting Nether and Great Dark Beyond

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Many fans wonder what the Twisting Nether and the Great Dark Beyond are.  A fan offered a very good example of what they are:

“You have the universe, the universe is made up of two plane of existance.

The solid plain of existance, the one in which the suns, planets, and moons form, is known as “The Great Dark Beyond”. This is basically the name that the people of Azeroth use as a word for “outerspace”. This physical realm is where the planet of Azeroth sits, and is the realm in which the Titans travel the cosmos searching for worlds to re-construct into order.

The second plane of existance is an ethreal plane, one made of protein that has no form, no planets, nothing but an empty infinite expanse. This is called the “Twisted Nether”, and is considered the “glue” of the universe, as the entire nether is woven into the rest of the physical universe. The Titans know of the Twisted Nether, but because it is such a chaotic world, they refuse to travel within it. The chaotic nature of the twisted nether was a perfect home for those that gave themselves to chaos, the races that would later become known as demons.

The relationship between these two dimensions is to hold the universe together.

One of the perks the demons gain from the Twisted Nether, is the fact that the Twisted Nether, is agian, the glue of the universe, this means that every single point of the twisted nether, is also connected to every single point of the great dark beyond. One could enter the twisted nether by portal, walk three steps through another portal, and be on the other side of the universe.

The Twisted Nether was used is this way to bring the orcs.

Medivh used the twisted nether as a “bridge” across the universe, allowing the orcs to move instantly from their homeworld of Draenor, all the way to Azeroth within an instant” –  Grocalis @ Tichondrius

A very detailed and descriptive explanation of the Twisting Nether—more official, from Chris Metzen—may be read at Warcraft RPG: Shadow and Light page 152-160

Kel’Thuzad and Naxxramas: Road to Damnation

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

This continual harassment grows tiresome. I was in the midst of important studies, delicate magic that requires weeks of preparation and ritual.” Kel’Thuzad had been forced to wait for hours, fuming at the insult, before he was permitted the bare courtesy of confronting his accusers. The group’s apparent spokespersons, Drenden and Modera, had long been two of his most vocal critics. Nonetheless, they would not have launched this latest inquisition without support from Antonidas, who had yet to show himself. What was the old man up to?

Drenden snorted. “That’s the first time I’ve heard your sort of magic called ‘delicate.’”

“An ignorant opinion from an ignorant man,” said Kel’Thuzad with cold precision.

A distant voice spoke to him then, the voice of a friend. By now its remarks had grown so familiar that they felt like his own thoughts. They fear and envy you. After all, thanks to this new course of study, you are continuing to gain in knowledge and power.

There was a sudden flash of light, and a scowling gray-haired archmage appeared in the hall. A small wooden chest was tucked under his arm. “I would not have believed it if I had not seen it myself. You have abused our patience for the last time, Kel’Thuzad.”

“The venerable Antonidas graces us with his presence at last. I began to think you had fallen ill.”

“Age frightens you, doesn’t it?” Antonidas snapped. “You realize there’s only one alternative.”

Let him think so, if that comforts him.

Calming somewhat, Antonidas said, “As for my health, you need not have concerned yourself. I was merely busy elsewhere.”

“Searching my chambers for evidence of forbidden magic? You should know better.”

“True, your chambers bore no such evidence. The warehouses you own in the northlands, on the other hand…” Antonidas gave him a disgusted look.

Damn the man for being a self-righteous snoop. “You had no right—”

Antonidas tapped his staff to the floor, silencing him, and turned to the other magi. “He has turned the buildings into laboratories for a series of foul experiments. See for yourself, colleagues. Behold the fruit of his labors.” He opened the chest and tilted it so that all could see.

The decaying remains of several rats. Two were still scrabbling clumsily at the sides of the chest in a vain attempt to escape. Several magi bolted to their feet, and there was a hubbub of dismay. Even the golden-haired high elf who had been sitting in the back of the room seemed startled, though Prince Kael’thas was a man whose age made that feat nearly impossible.

Turning back to the captive rats, Kel’Thuzad saw that they had collapsed and stopped moving. Another set of failures, apparently. No matter. Someday he would create a stable undead specimen. His hard work would be vindicated. It was only a matter of time.

There are loose threads in the spell that silences you. Shall I show you how to unravel it?

Time, and his unknown ally, whose enigmatic voice occasionally helped him to move one step closer to his goal. Show me, he thought.

A young woman arrived in another flash of light. As she went to stand by Antonidas, the high elf’s gaze followed her with troubled, brooding intensity. But Jaina Proudmoore took no notice; she was utterly focused on her duties. The handsome prince didn’t stand a chance.

Her vivid blue eyes spared Kel’Thuzad a curious glance. She took the box from Antonidas, who explained, “My apprentice will see to it that the chest and its contents are incinerated.”

The woman inclined her head and teleported from the room. Across the room, the high elf frowned at the spot she had vacated. Under other circumstances, Kel’Thuzad might have found the silent drama amusing. However, left unchallenged, Antonidas was continuing his tirade. Mutely seething, Kel’Thuzad resumed his efforts to free himself.

“We have permitted this state of affairs long enough. Rapped his knuckles occasionally for his more questionable pursuits. Tried to guide him. Now we find he has been practicing evil magic. The name of the Kirin Tor is fast becoming a curse on the lips of the local villagers.”

“You lie!” Kel’Thuzad burst out, and a few of the magi were his again, waiting for him to offer an explanation. “Peasants remember the Second War just as well as we do. Say what you like about the orcs; their warlocks wielded great power. Power against which we had precious little defense. We have an obligation: we must learn to wield and counter these magics ourselves.”

“To form an army of dead rats, their unnatural existence measured in hours?” Antonidas asked dryly. “Yes, my boy, I found your journals, too. You kept quite detailed records regarding this abominable enterprise. You cannot mean to use these pathetic creatures against orcs. Assuming, of course, that the orcs should ever emerge from their current lethargy, escape the internment camps, and somehow manage to become a threat again.”

“Being younger than you hardly qualifies me for boyhood,” retorted Kel’Thuzad. “As for the rats, they are the gauge by which I measure my progress. It is a standard experimental technique.”

A sigh. “I am aware that you spend most of your time in the north these days. Your increasingly lengthy absences were what caught my attention in the first place. Yet even you must have heard that the king’s new tax has given rise to civil unrest. Your selfish pursuit of power could incite the peasantry to revolt. Lordaeron would be engulfed in civil war.”

He hadn’t known about the tax. Antonidas must be exaggerating. Besides, true magi would focus on matters of greater substance. “I will be more discreet,” he offered, gritting his teeth.

“No amount of discretion could possibly hide a secret of this magnitude,” said Drenden.

Modera added, “You know that we have always walked a fine line in order to protect our people without becoming a danger ourselves. We dare not sacrifice our humanity—not in appearance, and certainly not in truth. At best, your methods would see us condemned as heretics.”

It was too much. “We’ve been called heretics for centuries. The church has never been fond of our methods. Such sentiments notwithstanding, we are still here.”

She nodded. “Because we avoid dark magic, which leads to corruption and catastrophe.”

“Because we are necessary!”

“Enough.” Antonidas sounded weary. To Modera and Drenden, he added, “If words alone could have reached him, they would have done so before now.”

“I have heard your words,” Kel’Thuzad said in exasperation. “Merciful gods, I have heard them until I am sick of them! It is you who will not hear mine, and put aside your antiquated fea—”

“You mistake our purpose here today,” interrupted Antonidas. “This is not a debate. At this moment, your properties are being thoroughly searched. All items tainted by dark magic will be confiscated and, once identified to our satisfaction, destroyed.”

His nameless ally had warned him this might happen, but Kel’Thuzad had not believed. Strange. He felt almost relieved that events had come to this pass. The need for secrecy had limited the scope of his work, hindered his advancement.

“In light of the evidence,” Antonidas said heavily, “King Terenas has agreed with our judgment. If you do not abandon this madness, you will be stripped of your rank and holdings, and you will be exiled from Dalaran—indeed, from all of Lordaeron.”

His mind racing, Kel’Thuzad bowed and left the hall. Doubtless the Kirin Tor were keeping his so-called disgrace quiet, fearing repercussions should his actions become public knowledge. For once, their cowardice would work in his favor. His wealth would never line the king’s coffers.

* * * * *

pack of wolves stalked Kel’Thuzad for miles, just out of spell range, before they fell behind. Glancing warily over his shoulder, he saw them snarl and flatten their ears before darting away. Thankfully the arctic winds were dying out as well. In the distance he could make out the summit, a bleak mountaintop, the sight of which gave him a sense of triumph and foreboding. The very peak of Icecrown. Few explorers had ventured onto the glacier, and even fewer had survived to tell the tale. But he, Kel’Thuzad, would scale its heights alone and look down on the rest of the world.

Unfortunately almost no maps existed of the frigid continent of Northrend, and he found them woefully inadequate, like the supplies he’d proudly packed for this journey. Uncertain of the path ahead and his ultimate destination, he could not teleport. Not sparing himself, he staggered onward. He had lost track of how long he’d been walking. Despite his fur-lined cloak, he was shivering uncontrollably. His legs felt like pillars of stone: awkward and numb. His body was beginning to shut down. If he didn’t find shelter soon, he was going to die out here.

Eventually a glint of light drew his gaze: a stone obelisk carved with magical symbols, with a citadel beyond it. At last! He hurried past the obelisk and crossed a bridge of what looked like pure energy. The citadel’s doors opened at his approach, but he stopped short.

The entryway was guarded by two grotesque creatures that resembled giant spiders from the waist down. Six narrow legs supported each creature’s weight; the other two limbs were attached like arms to a vaguely humanoid torso. More fascinating than the creatures themselves, though, was their current state. Their bodies showed an assortment of open wounds, the worst of which had been roughly bandaged. One guard’s arms were bent at improbable angles. Ichor oozed from the other’s fanged maw, but the guard made no effort to wipe it away.

Despite the familiar stink of undeath, the guards showed no sign of confusion, unlike Kel’Thuzad’s rats. The spider-like creatures must also have retained most of their original strength and coordination. Otherwise, they would have made poor guards. Their creator was clearly a skilled necromancer.

To his surprise, they moved aside to let him pass. Unwilling to question his good fortune, he gladly entered the citadel, which was significantly warmer. In the hallway ahead was a battered statue of one of the half-spider creatures. The building itself was of recent construction, but the statue was quite old. Come to think of it, he’d seen similar statues in the ancient ruins he’d passed through on his way north. The cold was slowing his wits.

At a guess, the necromancer had conquered a kingdom of these spider-like beings, successfully converted them into undeath, and taken their treasures as the spoils of war. Exultation filled him. He would surely learn great things here.

At the end of the hall, a gigantic creature lumbered into view: a grotesque mixture of beetle and spider. It approached him at a deliberate pace, and Kel’Thuzad observed that its towering body sported an even greater number of wounds and bandages. Like the guards, it was undead, but its sheer bulk made him feel more frightened than impressed. He doubted he had sufficient skill to vanquish such a monster, much less raise it from the dead.

The creature greeted him in a deep bass voice that reverberated within its ponderous body. Although it spoke perfectly understandable Common, the sound chilled him. Strange buzzing and clicking underlaid its words. “The master has been expecting you, archmage. I am Anub’arak.”

It had both the intelligence and motor skills for speech—astonishing! “Yes. I wish to become his apprentice.”

The huge creature simply looked down at him. Possibly it was debating whether he would make a tasty snack.

He cleared his throat nervously. “May I see him?”

“In due time,” Anub’arak rumbled. “Thus far, you have devoted your life to the pursuit of knowledge. An admirable goal. Still, your experiences as a mage cannot have prepared you for serving the master.”

What could have inspired such a speech? Did the majordomo consider Kel’Thuzad a rival? That was a misconception to dispel as soon as possible. “As a former member of the Kirin Tor, I have more magic at my command than you could probably imagine. I am more than prepared for whatever tasks the master gives me.”

“We shall see.”

Anub’arak led him through a number of tunnels that took them far beneath the earth. At last Kel’Thuzad and his guide emerged into a vast ziggurat whose name, so Anub’arak said, was Naxxramas. From its architecture, the building was another product of the half-spider creatures. Indeed, the first chambers Anub’arak showed him were populated by the undead things, which swiftly lost their novelty. Actual spiders also skittered here and there among the undead, busily spinning cobwebs and laying eggs.

Kel’Thuzad hid his distaste. He wouldn’t give the enormous majordomo the satisfaction. Indicating one of the undead spider-things, he said, “You bear them some resemblance. Are you all derived from the same race?”

“The nerubian race, yes. Then the master came. As his influence spread, we made war upon him, foolishly believing we stood a chance. Many of us were slain and raised into undeath. In life I was a king. Today I am a crypt lord.”

“In return for immortality, you agreed to serve him,” Kel’Thuzad mused aloud. Remarkable.

“‘Agreed’ implies choice.”

Which meant that the necromancer could compel obedience from the undead. Kel’Thuzad might be the first living being to come here of his own free will. Faintly disquieted, he changed the subject. “This place is full of your people. I take it you rule here?”

“After my death, I led my brethren in conquering this ziggurat for our new master. I also oversaw the process of altering it to serve his design. However, Naxxramas does not fall under my authority. Nor are my people its only occupants. This is but one wing out of four.”

“In that case, lead on, crypt lord. Show me the rest.”

* * * * *

he second wing was everything Kel’Thuzad could have hoped. Magical artifacts, laboratory equipment, and other supplies that put his old laboratories to shame. Huge rooms that could hold a veritable army of assistants. Undead beasts that had been cleverly sewn together from a hodgepodge of animals and reanimated. Even a few undead humanoids composed of body parts from assorted humans. The human body parts bore no wounds: unlike the nerubians, the humans had not fought their fate. The necromancer must have acquired the bodies from a local graveyard. Wise to avoid drawing notice. The Kirin Tor would have taken immediate action.

Unfortunately the third wing proved less interesting. Anub’arak showed him an armory and an area for combat training. Next the crypt lord led him through chambers filled with hundreds—no, thousands—of sealed barrels and shipping crates. Why would Naxxramas need so much in the way of supplies? Well, the pyramid was well stocked in the unlikely event that it was besieged.

At last he and Anub’arak reached the last wing. Giant mushrooms grew in a garden area and gave off noxious fumes that made Kel’Thuzad feel ill. The soil beneath each mushroom seemed unhealthy, possibly diseased. Going closer to inspect it, he stepped on something that squished: a fist-sized creature that resembled a maggot.

He shuddered and hastily moved on. The next room had a number of small cauldrons filled with a bubbling greenish liquid. Curious despite the substance’s revolting odor, Kel’Thuzad took a step forward, but a massive claw abruptly blocked his way.

“The master wishes you to remain among the living. Your time has not yet come.”

His breath caught in his throat. “It would have killed me?”

“There are many who will not serve the master in life. The fluid resolves that difficulty.” At Kel’Thuzad’s blank look, the crypt lord said, “Come. I will show you.”

Anub’arak took him to a cell that held two prisoners. Villagers, by their homespun clothing. The man was cradling the woman in his arms; she was ghastly pale and soaked in sweat. Alive, both of them, though the woman was clearly ill. Kel’Thuzad glanced at the crypt lord uneasily.

Her desperate glassy eyes found Kel’Thuzad and brightened. “Mercy, my lord! My body fails. I have seen what will happen next. One bolt of flame, I beg of you. Let me rest in peace.”

She was afraid of becoming the necromancer’s thrall. According to Anub’arak, she would have no choice. Kel’Thuzad looked away queasily. After all, she couldn’t live much longer anyway.

She struggled out of the man’s arms and clung to the cell bars. “For pity’s sake! If you will not aid me, at least take my husband to safety!” And she wept hopelessly.

“Hush, sweetheart,” the man murmured behind her. “I will not leave you.”

“Make her be quiet!” Kel’Thuzad whispered fiercely at Anub’arak.

“The noise distresses you?” With one lightning-quick motion, Anub’arak shot one claw through the bars and speared the woman through the heart. Then the crypt lord casually shook the corpse off onto the floor.

Her husband howled with anguish. Guiltily relieved, Kel’Thuzad began to turn away, but froze when the corpse started thrashing and arching against the stone floor. The male villager gaped in shock and fell silent.

The dead woman’s skin was changing color: shifting to a faintly greenish gray. Gradually the spasms died off, and she scrambled unsteadily to her feet. She rolled her head to one side, then shivered as she spotted her husband. “Guards, get this man out of here.” she rasped.

The guards didn’t move. With a groan, she raked her fingers through her tangled brown hair, and Kel’Thuzad got a good look at her face. Blood vessels were darkening under the skin, and her eyes seemed feral, crazed.

Her husband asked doubtfully, “My love? Are you all right?”

A bitter laugh escaped her and twisted into a snarl when he took a hesitant step toward her. “Don’t come any closer.”

The man ignored her protest and went toward her, but she shoved him away with enough force to send him flying. He hit the cell bars and slid down, stunned.

“Stay back.” Her speech was becoming more guttural. “Hurt you.” She wrapped her arms around herself, backed up until she bumped against the opposite side of the cell. “Hurt you, hurt you,” she whined, and something began to be wrong with the way she said it.

Uncomprehending, Kel’Thuzad watched her slowly, jerkily lift a hand to the hole in her chest. She hissed, grimaced, and brought her fingers to her mouth. Licked them. Sucked at them. Then in a blur of movement, she was leaping at her husband, lashing out, baring her teeth—

The man screamed, and blood spurted onto the cell floor. Kel’Thuzad flinched away. Closing his eyes didn’t help; he could still hear unspeakable sounds. Ripping, shredding. Chewing. A soft, wretched mewling that he very much feared meant the undead woman was aware of her actions on some level, but unable to stop herself.

Sickened and horrified, he teleported out of Naxxramas altogether, staggered a little distance away, and threw up. Finding a patch of unsullied snow, he scooped up handfuls and scrubbed viciously at his mouth and face. It felt as if he would never be clean again. What had he gotten himself involved in?

One by one, his scattered thoughts fell into place. The necromancer was no simple academic, interested in studying a widely condemned field of magic. Nor did he plan to stop at fortifying his home against attack. He was mass-producing a fluid that converted people into zombies. Naxxramas also had an enormous stockpile of supplies, weapons, armor, training grounds….

These weren’t defensive measures. They were preparations for war.

A sudden wind buffeted him with an unearthly shriek, and a group of cold wraiths coalesced in front of his eyes. He had read of them years ago in the Violet Citadel. The vague description of their cloudy, translucent forms had mentioned nothing of the frigid malice in their glowing eyes.

One of the wraiths drifted closer and asked, “Second thoughts? As you see, your little trick will not avail you. You cannot escape the master. At any rate, what could you hope to accomplish? Where would you go? More to the point, who would believe you?”

Fight or flight: those would have been the heroic choices. Heroic, but pointless. His death would serve nothing. By agreeing to become the necromancer’s apprentice, Kel’Thuzad bought himself time in which to bolster his own skills. With enough training, he could surpass the necromancer or catch the man off guard.

He nodded to the wraith. “Very well. Take me to him.”

The wraiths teleported him back to the citadel and escorted him downward through a series of halls and rooms that Kel’Thuzad knew he wouldn’t be able to remember later. At last, deep beneath the earth, he and the wraiths entered a huge cavern whose dank chill sank into his bones. In the center of the cavern was a dizzyingly tall spire of rock. Blanketed in snow, a set of stairs spiraled up the sides of the spire.

He and the wraiths began the ascent. His heart pounded with excitement and dread. When he realized that his steps were slowing, he sped up again. His resolution didn’t last long, however. It felt as if a weight was pulling at him. Evidently the long journey across Northrend had tired him more than he’d thought.

Far above him, at the top of the spire, he could barely make out a large chunk of crystal. Untouched by snow, it had a faint bluish gleam. There was no sign of the necromancer.

One of the wraiths used a frigid gust of wind to give him a push. His pace had been lagging again. Irritably he tugged his cloak closer and forced himself to keep climbing, though he was breathing hard.

Time passed, and a blast of sleet brought him back to full awareness. He had stopped in the middle of the stairs to lean on his staff. The air was foul and suffocating; he was panting by now. “Give me a moment,” he managed.

A wraith behind him said, “We cannot rest. Why should you?”

Grimly Kel’Thuzad resumed the climb and hunched his shoulders against the growing exhaustion. He raised his head with an effort and saw that the glimmering crystal was drawing close. At this distance, it looked like a jagged throne with hazy dark shapes inside it. There was a palpable aura of menace about the thing.

The wraiths brushed against him and startled him into crying out. Echoes of the sound reverberated throughout the cavern. He clutched at his fur cloak with clammy, trembling hands. His breath rattled in the back of his throat, and he had the sudden terrible urge to turn around and start running. “Where is the master?” he asked, and his voice was high and quavering.

No answer, just a storm of hail that lashed at him cruelly. He stumbled and recovered his footing. With each step, the throne looming above him felt more oppressive, pushing his head down, bending his spine. He could barely walk upright. Before long, he fell to his hands and knees.

The necromancer spoke directly to Kel’Thuzad then in a voice that was no longer even remotely kind. Let this be your first lesson. I have no love for you or your people. On the contrary, I intend to scour humanity from this planet, and make no mistake: I have the power to do it.

Relentless, the wraiths did not permit him to stop. Beyond humiliation, he abandoned his staff and began to crawl. The necromancer’s malevolence beat down upon him and pressed him deeper into the snow. Kel’Thuzad was shaking and whimpering, and o gods, he’d been wrong—stupidly, colossally wrong. This wasn’t fatigue. It was stark terror.

You will never catch me unaware, for I do not sleep, and as you should have already guessed, I can read your thoughts as easily as you might read a book. Nor can you hope to defeat me. Your puny mind is incapable of handling the energies I manipulate on a whim.

Kel’Thuzad had long since torn his robes, and his leggings were useless against the icy rock of the rough-hewn stairs. His hands and knees left bloody tracks behind him as he struggled up the last spiral. The throne radiated bone-chilling cold, and mist surrounded it. A throne not of crystal, but of ice.

Immortality can be a great boon. It can also be agony the likes of which you have not yet begun to fathom. Defy me, and I will teach you what I have learned of pain. You will beg for death.

He came within a few feet of the throne and could go no farther, pinned helplessly beneath the thing’s overwhelming aura of inhuman might and hatred. An unseen force bore down on him and ground the side of his face into the unyielding stone. “Please,” he found himself sobbing. “Please!” Further words escaped him.

Finally the pressure eased. The wraiths flitted away, but he knew better than to rise. Doubted, in any case, that he could. His eyes, however, unwillingly sought out his tormentor.

A set of plate armor was seated within the throne, rather than upon it. Kel’Thuzad might have thought the armor merely black, but, blinking hard, he saw that no light at all was reflected from its surface. In fact, the longer he looked, the more it seemed to devour all light, hope, and sanity.

The ornate spiked helm obviously doubled as a crown. It was set with a single blue gem and, like the rest of the armor, appeared empty. In one gauntlet, the figure clasped a massive sword whose blade had been etched with runes. Here was power. Here was despair.

As my lieutenant, you will gain knowledge and magic to surpass your most ambitious dreams. But in return, living or dead, you will serve me for the rest of your days. If you betray me, I shall make you into one of my mindless ones, and you will serve me still.

Serving this spectral being—this Lich King, as Kel’Thuzad was beginning to think of him—would assuredly bring Kel’Thuzad great power… and damn him for all eternity. But that knowledge came far too late. Besides, damnation had little meaning without the prospect of true death.

“I am yours. I swear it,” he said hoarsely.

In response, the Lich King sent him a vision of Naxxramas. Small black-robed figures stood in a broad circle outside on the glacier. Their arms, visibly wreathed in dark magic, rose and fell in time with a droning chant that eluded Kel’Thuzad’s understanding. Tremors shook the earth beneath their feet, but they kept casting.

You will go forth and bear witness to my power. You will be my ambassador to the living, and assemble a group of like-minded people to further my plans. Through illusion, persuasion, sickness, and force of arms, you will establish my hold upon Azeroth.

To Kel’Thuzad’s astonishment, the ice shifted and cracked, and the top of a ziggurat pierced the frozen ground. A building was being pulled up out of the soil. While the robed figures redoubled their efforts, the vast pyramid continued its impossible emergence. Chunks of dirt and ice flew outward with explosive force. Soon the entire structure had broken free of the earth’s embrace. Slowly but surely, Naxxramas rose into the air.

And this will be your vessel.

Naxxramas – Page 1 | Page 2 – The Undead Plague

World of Warcraft - Murloc History and Lore

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Murloc origins are shrouded in mystery. This is due not only to the fact that these creatures appeared on Azeroth’s shores fairly recently (as far as world history goes, anyway) but also because murlocs shun mortals and rarely, if ever, speak anything but their own garbled language.

What’s been known up until now about the fish-men is the following: they are not the most intelligent creatures. They congregate on shorelines in tribes and villages. They have been known, in certain instances to worship enigmatic sea-deities (sometimes including naga). And they seem to care little for the mortal races.

However, recent accounts by select individuals who managed to gather information? either by spying, torturing or surreptitiously gaining the murlocs’ trust, have brought some interesting details to light?

First, murlocs may not be as dumb as everyone thinks they are. Several clues point to the fact that their steady infiltration of the world’s land masses may be a coordinated effort. Whether or not this enterprise has been undertaken strictly of their own accord is not yet known.

Also, the murloc race may be far older than most believe. Several accounts and clues seem to substantiate this. In fact, it is now believed that murlocs (or, more appropriately, their ancestors) may even pre-date trolls. Of course these ancient murlocs lived in the oceans’ depths and therefore were never known to the world’s early land-dwelling races.

In the last few years, the vile naga have begun reemerging from their watery abodes, causing historians to speculate that their migration may have triggered the murlocs’ slow encroachment onto land. Some also guessed that the murlocs might be working in concert with the sinister amphibians.

But perhaps the most startling revelation to come from recent intelligence-gathering efforts was this: the naga may not be the only nightmarish horrors lurking in the seemingly bottomless oceans of the world.

Several indicators from the murlocs themselves point to the possibility that the fish-men are but worshippers or underlings of perhaps several deep-sea monstrosities that currently lie sleeping, or at least waiting, in the murky fathoms ? and even more disturbing, that the murlocs’ emergence is an indication of their incipient awakening.

If that is the case, the mysterious and somewhat underestimated murlocs may be the world’s first glimpse at something far more terrifying.

World of Warcraft Instances - Blackwing Lair

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Lord Victor Nefarius has long taunted the defenders of the land during their adventures in Blackrock Spire – now. at last. his lair lies open. awaiting those daring enough to set foot within. Do battle against the black dragonflight and face off against Nefarian himself within the treacherous Blackwing Lair.

The mighty fortress carved within the fiery bowels of Blackrock Mountain was designed by the master dwarf-mason, Franclorn Forgewright. Intended to be the symbol of Dark Iron power, the fortress was held by the sinister dwarves for centuries. However, Nefarian – the cunning son of the dragon, Deathwing – had other plans for the great keep. He and his draconic minions took control of the upper Spire and made war on the dwarves’ holdings in the mountain’s volcanic depths, which serve as the seat of power for Ragnaros the Firelord. Ragnaros has uncovered the secret to creating life from stone and plans to build an army of unstoppable golems to aid him in conquering the whole of Blackrock Mountain.

Nefarian has vowed to crush Ragnaros. To this end, he has recently begun efforts to bolster his forces, much as his father Deathwing had attempted to do in ages past. However, where Deathwing failed, it now seems the scheming Nefarian may be succeeding. Nefarian’s mad bid for dominance has even attracted the ire of the Red Dragon Flight, which has always been the Black Flight’s greatest foe. Though Nefarian’s intentions are known, the methods he is using to achieve them remain a mystery. It is believed, however that Nefarian has been experimenting with the blood of all of the various Dragon Flights to produce unstoppable warriors.

Nefarian’s sanctum, Blackwing Lair, can be found at the very height of Blackrock Spire. It is there in the dark recesses of the mountain’s peak that Nefarian has begun to unfold the final stages of his plan to destroy Ragnaros once and for all and lead his army to undisputed supremacy over all the races of Azeroth.

World of Warcraft Outdoor Bosses: The 4 Green Dragons of the Nightmare

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

The Great Trees of the world have been shaken to their roots; a new menace has come from the portals to the Emerald Dream. Four green dragons. once proud lieutenants of Ysera now corrupted by the Emerald Nightmare. have appeared in Azeroth to destroy the life they once dearly protected. Adventurers must ride forth and defend the land from this new threat. . .

Meanwhile in Silithus. the Cenarion Circle gathers at its Hold to research the strange goings-on both above and underneath the shifting sands. Something dangerous is stirring beyond the Scarab Wall. The Twilight’s Hammer are extremely active in the area. working to uncover some unnamed evil. Can you uncover the mysteries therein?

There is a disturbance at the Great Trees. A new threat menaces these secluded areas found in Ashenvale, Duskwood, Feralas, and Hinterlands. Four great guardians of the Green Dragonflight have arrived from the Dream, but these once-proud protectors now seek only destruction and death. Take arms with your fellows and march to these hidden groves—only you can defend Azeroth from the corruption they bring.

 


Ysera, Dragon Aspect of the Emerald Dream


Ysera, the great Dreaming dragon Aspect rules over the enigmatic green dragonflight. Her domain is the fantastic, mystical realm of the Emerald Dream – and it is said that from there she guides the evolutionary path of the world itself. She is the protector of nature and imagination, and it is the charge of her flight to guard all of the Great Trees across the world, which only druids use to enter the Dream itself.

In recent times, Ysera’s most trusted lieutenants have been warped by a dark new power within the Emerald Dream. Now these wayward sentinels have passed through the Great Trees into Azeroth, intending to spread madness and terror throughout the mortal kingdoms. Even the mightiest of adventurers would be well advised to give the dragons a wide berth, or suffer the consequences of their misguided wrath.

 


Lethon


Lethon’s exposure to the aberration within the Emerald Dream not only darkened the hue of the mighty dragon’s scales, but also empowered him with the ability to extract malevolent shades from his enemies. Once joined with their master, the shades imbue the dragon with healing energies. It should come as no surprise, then, that Lethon is considered to be among the most formidable of Ysera’s wayward lieutenants.

 


Emeriss


A mysterious dark power within the Emerald Dream has transformed the once-majestic Emeriss into a rotting, diseased monstrosity. Reports from the few who have survived encounters with the dragon have told horrifying tales of putrid mushrooms erupting from the corpses of their dead companions. Emeriss is truly the most gruesome and appalling of Ysera’s estranged green dragons.

 


Taerar


Taerar was perhaps the most affected of Ysera’s rogue lieutenants. His interaction with the dark force within the Emerald Dream shattered Taerar’s sanity as well as his corporeal form. The dragon now exists as a specter with the ability to split into multiple entities, each of which possesses destructive magical powers. Taerar is a cunning and relentless foe who is intent on turning the madness of his existence into reality for the inhabitants of Azeroth.

 


Ysondre


Once one of Ysera’s most trusted lieutenants, Ysondre has now gone rogue, sewing terror and chaos across the land of Azeroth. Her formerly beneficent healing powers have given way to dark magics, enabling her to cast smoldering lightning waves and summon the aid of fiendish druids. Ysondre and her kin also possess the ability to induce sleep, sending her unfortunate mortal foes to the realm of their most terrifying nightmares.

World of Warcraft Dungeon - Zul’Farrak

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

his sun-blasted city is home to the Sandfury trolls, known for their particular ruthlessness and dark mysticism. Troll legends tell of a powerful sword called Sul’thraze the Lasher, a weapon capable of instilling fear and weakness in even the most formidable of foes. Long ago, the weapon was split in half. However, rumors have circulated that the two halves may be found somewhere within Zul’Farrak’s walls. Reports have also suggested that a band of mercenaries fleeing Gadgetzan wandered into the city and became trapped. Their fate remains unknown. But perhaps most disturbing of all are the hushed whispers of an ancient creature sleeping within a sacred pool at the city’s heart – a mighty demigod who will wreak untold destruction upon any adventurer foolish enough to awaken him.

Tanaris Desert
Level 44-54

World of Warcraft Dungeon - The Stockades

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

he Stockade are a high-security prison complex, hidden beneath the canal district of Stormwind city. Presided over by Warden Thelwater, the Stockades are home to petty crooks, political insurgents, murderers and a score of the most dangerous criminals in the land. Recently, a prisoner-led revolt has resulted in a state of pandemonium within the Stockades – where the guards have been driven out and the convicts roam free. Warden Thelwater has managed to escape the holding area and is currently enlisting brave thrill-seekers to venture into the prison and kill the uprising’s mastermind – the cunning felon, Bazil Thredd.

Stormwind
Level 24-32

World of Warcraft Dungeon - Ragefire Chasm

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Ragefire Chasm consists of a network of volcanic caverns that lie below the orcs’ new capital city of Orgrimmar. Recently, rumors have spread that a cult loyal to the demonic Shadow Council has taken up residence within the Chasm’s fiery depths. This cult, known as the Burning Blade, threatens the very sovereignty of Durotar. Many believe that the orc Warchief, Thrall, is aware of the Blade’s existence and has chosen not to destroy it in the hopes that its members might lead him straight to the Shadow Council. Either way, the dark powers emanating from Ragefire Chasm could undo all that the orcs have fought to attain.
# 10 Player limit

Orgrimmar
Level 13-18

World of Warcraft Dungeon - Scholomance

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Western Plaguelands

Level 57+

5 Player limit

The Scholomance is housed within a series of crypts that lie beneath the ruined keep of Caer Darrow. Once owned by the noble Barov family, Caer Darrow fell to ruin following the Second War. As the wizard Kel’thuzad enlisted followers for his Cult of the Damned he would often promise immortality in exchange for serving his Lich King. The Barov family fell to Kel’thuzad’s charismatic influence and donated the keep and its crypts to the Scourge. The cultists then killed the Barovs and turned the ancient crypts into a school for necromancy known as the Scholomance. Though Kel’thuzad no longer resides in the crypts, devoted cultists and instructors still remain. The powerful lich, Ras Frostwhisper, rules over the site and guards it in the Scourge’s name – while the mortal necromancer, Darkmaster Gandling, serves as the school’s insidious headmaster.

World of Warcraft Dungeon - Dire Maul

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Feralas

Level 55-60

5 Player limit

Built long ago by Queen Azshara’s followers. the ancient. magical city of Eldre’Thalas was the center for the highborne’s arcane research. Thousands of years have passed since the destruction of the Well of Eternity. and the broken city’s three wings have been overrun by ghostly Highborne. satyr and ogres. Now known as the Dire Maul. only the most daring party of adventurers can enter this dungeon and face the ancient evils within.

Built twelve thousand years ago by a covert sect of night elf sorcerers, the ancient city of Eldre’Thalas was used to protect Queen Azshara’s most prized arcane secrets. Though it was ravaged by the Great Sundering of the world, much of the wondrous city still stands as the imposing Dire Maul. The ruins’ three distinct districts have been overrun by all manner of creatures – especially the spectral highborne, foul satyr and brutish ogres. Only the most daring party of adventurers can enter this broken city and face the ancient evils locked within its ancient vaults.

Cautiously, I crept through the verdant growth of Feralas, edging ever-closer to the towering walls peering through the trees. I remained hidden, careful to keep the horns of my feline shape from tangling in the undergrowth. There, dusky skin stark against the lush green of the woods, stood the Gordok ogres.

I had been sent here by the Sage to discover what happened to Eldre’Thalas, the once-formidable night elven vault of arcane secrets. The forest eventually reclaims everything built within its clutches, and the crumbling, vine-draped walls were simple proof that the same was happening here.

Still, despite the green’s steady encroachment, the stonework in many places was largely untouched – evidence of the skill that went into building this place. The night elves expended a great deal of effort to preserve the knowledge within its walls, and greater energy still to keep it there. As I stalked the edge of Eldre’Thalas, watching the Gordok squatting on the ancient ruins, remembering the whispers of ghostly Highborn haunting the locked passages, and smelling the stench of demonic magic in the air, it was certain to me that bringing to light the long-lost treasures of what is now Dire Maul would no doubt be a challenge for even the most skilled of adventurers.

My scouting done, I turned away, heading back to camp to prepare my companions . . .

Built long ago by a covert sect of Queen Azshara’s followers, this ancient city was used by these arcanists to process the Queen’s most important demands in secret. Thousands of years have passed since the destruction of the Well, and Dire Maul’s three wings have been overrun by ghostly Highborn, demons, and ogres. Only the most daring party of adventurers can enter this dungeon and face the ancient evils within.


Features

 

  • We are planning on implementing the following features for Dire Maul in the next patch.

  • Dire Maul consists of three separate wings ranging in difficulty from level 56 to 60.
  • There are many ways to complete the quests located in Dire Maul, and the decisions a party makes along the way will directly influence the potential rewards.
  • In recent years, rumors have surfaced of an ancient arena within Dire Maul’s courtyard where unique creatures were once fought for sport.
  • Adventurers will find that the occupants of Dire Maul possess many rare and epic weapons, armors, and profession recipes never before seen on Azeroth.

World of Warcraft Dungeon - Blackrock Spire

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Between Searing Gorge and Burning Steppes

Level 58+

10 Player limit

The mighty fortress carved within the fiery bowels of Blackrock Mountain was designed by the master dwarf-mason, Franclorn Forgewright. Intended to be the symbol of Dark Iron power, the fortress was held by the sinister dwarves for centuries. However, Nefarian – the cunning son of the dragon, Deathwing – had other plans for the great keep. He and his draconic minions took control of the upper Spire and made war on the dwarves’ holdings in the mountain’s volcanic depths. Realizing that the dwarves were led by the mighty fire elemental, Ragnaros – Nefarian vowed to crush his enemies and claim the whole of Blackrock mountain for himself.

World of Warcraft Dungeon - Stratholme

Written by Medievaldragon on . Posted in Dungeons & Regions Lore, World of Warcraft Classic

Eastern Plaguelands

Level 58-60

5 Player limit

Once the jewel of northern Lordaeron, the city of Stratholme is where Prince Arthas turned against his mentor, Uther Lightbringer, and slaughtered hundreds of his own subjects who were believed to have contracted the dreaded plague of undeath. Arthas’ downward spiral and ultimate surrender to the Lich King soon followed. The broken city is now inhabited by the undead Scourge – led by the powerful lich, Kel’thuzad. A contingent of Scarlet Crusaders, led by Grand Crusader Dathrohan, also holds a portion of the ravaged city. The two sides are locked in constant, violent combat. Those adventurers brave (or foolish) enough to enter Stratholme will be forced to contend with both factions before long. It is said that the city is guarded by three massive watchtowers, as well as powerful necromancers, banshees and abominations. There have also been reports of a malefic Death Knight riding atop an unholy steed – dispensing indiscriminate wrath on all those who venture within the realm of the Scourge.