Everyone wants to be a god of death it seems. Why is that so? I don’t know about others, but I much prefer life. When you’re dead, you can’t taste things, or feel the soft, new nest underneath you. When you’re dead, you can’t expand your knowledge. So why there’s so many gods of death? I mean, think about it. Arthas, the Lich King, presented himself to the vrykul as a “death god”. His “best friend” Yogg-Saron of course had to suffix his already scary title of “Old God” with “of Death”. Now, DEATHwing decided his name doesn’t have enough death in it so he proclaimed himself an Aspect of DEATH. Even the squawking quilboar had an organization called “Death’s Head”. It seems that if you want to sound scary you have to put as much DEATH as possible in your names and titles. Coming soon: deathy death death of death (and death). And then there are these Xa’tac.
Tag Archives: Lich King
Character: Rehgar Ironclaw, one of the chief Dark Shaman of the corrupted Kor’kron
A storm was brewing above the shores of Kargath Bay. Or rather, Grommashar Bay as “glorious Warchief Garrosh Hellscream” prefers to call it now. Ever since the Darkspear Rebellion and the Alliance failed to overcome their differences and lost in Orgrimmar, Garrosh went on an unprecedented offensive. From a villain with no popular support, he suddenly became a miracle worker. He turned the tides of war against his enemies despite overwhelming odds and all the loot-hungry adventurers knocking at his door. In his thirst for power, he ravaged Pandaria with the Sha of Pride he unleashed, and invoked upon the ancient and forbidden powers of the Old God Y’Shaarj. The creature was long dead, he thought, but Garrosh forgot the maxim the Twilight’s Hammer keeps repeating, which is ominously true – they do not live, they do not die, they are outside the cycle. Y’Shaarj will soon be reborn – in him.
Character: Bonelord Maraad, Champion of the Scourge.
Sun rose over the Azuremyst Isles, sprinkling light over the blueish vegetation. But upon closer inspection, one could notice something wrong. Between and beneath the trees, the grass was dying and the ground itself was corrupted with evil magic. The same magic seeped through the ground and into the trees which were losing their leaves and their colour en masse. Then one could notice the sources of all this in the distance – the Scourge. Meat wagons and dozens of ghouls and other corrupted corpses ravaged the forest on their path, going straight for one of the last remaining lights of hope on this Azeroth. The Exodar, once a wing of the Tempest Keep, now the refuge for some of the last defenders of Azeroth – most of whom ironically were not from this planet. They were the draenei – stalwart in their belief in the Light and the last to fall to the onslaught of the Scourge. But not all of them are still clinging to that last hope. Some were broken, lost. Even the greatest heroes of their civilization began to fall apart. And this paragon of the draenei was one of the first to fall.
The descent into Azjol-Nerub went fairly smoothly. I fully expected some troubles to crop up – some leftover undead Nerubians, maybe evil living Nerubians worshiping Yogg-Saron, maybe something else of the multiple evils that lie in the unexplored parts of that forgotten kingdom. But no, everything went swimmingly. The most trouble we met so far was a couple of bats and spiders, nothing the group of 10 people couldn’t handle. This Xarthat guy kept leading us deeper and deeper, and it was only getting darker and damper. Really, I’m a bird, I was made for open skies and trees not for cramped, nearly airless corridors. It was a slow and painful torture.
We found ourselves in a version of Stormwind far more diverse than we would guess. Cities were full of races delegated to be monsters normally. Furbolgs, arakkoa, mogu, even races that are part of the Horde were walking freely in a human city. Walking across the Gilnean District that took place of the park, we found a Worgen scholar and asked him for some details. Krasus was one of the first people I asked about, and the scholar was certain Krasus was an elven archmage of Dalaran who disappeared mysteriously some time during the Cataclysm – around the time he died in our timeline – and Rhonin was still the Grand Magus. Even more surprisingly, Broxigar was still alive and well, and an advisor to Warchief Dranosh Saurfang. All this pointed to the fact here they never went back in time. That resulted in some vastly different personalities… which apparently resulted in Alliance and Horde working together?
No rest for the wicked, as they say. The moment I returned from the alternate Draenor, I was greeted by Krasus. Yes, Krasus, also known as Korialstrasz, the Consort of the Dragon Queen, also known as “dead”. But it wasn’t our Krasus, as you might expect. It was the one I met on the alternate Azeroth the Arbiters of the Nexus sent me to some time ago. After dumping all of my duties on Menrim’s head again, I consulted Krasus to hear what is it that led him here (and how he even got here, considering the trouble I had to go to). Turns out there’s trouble brewing in the alternate Azeroth. Or at least, an even greater trouble than I left it in. Who knew that just killing the big bad guy rarely solves the problems that created him in the first place?