Grim Batol: its dark legacy stretches back into the mists of Azeroth’s past. But most know it as the site of a terrible tragedy – where the vile orcs corrupted the hatchlings of the noble Dragonqueen, Alexstrasza, and used them as weapons of war. Though a band of heroes, led by the enigmatic mage, Krasus, defeated the orcs and freed the captive dragons, the cursed mountain stands as another ravaged landmark within the…
WORLD OF WARCRAFT
But now Krasus – known to some as the red dragon Korialstrasz – senses the malice of Grim Batol rising once more to threaten those he holds dear. Determined this time to confront this evil by himself, he is unaware of the quests that will draw others to Grim Batol and reveal the monstrous truth that could not only herald their deaths, but usher in a terrible new age of darkness and destruction.
November 18, 2008
Night of the Dragon
He was trapped… trapped… trapped…
The darkness of his prison closed in around him. He could not breathe, could not move. How had this happened? What were the foul little creatures who had somehow managed to ensnare him? Vermin capturing a leviathan! It was impossible!
But it had happened…
He wanted to roar, but could not. There was no sound here, anyway. The silence drove him mad. He needed to be free! There had to be some escape –
A blinding emerald light enveloped him. He shrieked as it painfully ripped him from his prison and thrust him into the beyond.
But that shriek turned into a mighty roar of relief mixed with fury. He spread wide his magnificent, shimmering wings, his gargantuan, teal form filling much of this new place in which he found himself. Jagged, almost crystalline protrusions erupted along his spine and head, the latter creating an impressive crest akin to those worn on a warlord’s helm. Huge, glittering white orbs – more like pearls than eyes
– swept over a massive cavern filled with toothy projections thrusting from both the rounded ceiling and the rough floor.
And then his baleful gaze fell upon the vermin that had dared – somehow! – to trap his greatness. A subtle magenta aura suddenly radiated from him as he bellowed his righteous fury. а”Foul little worms! Foul little gremlins! You would dare make of Zzeraku a caged pet?” As Zzeraku cried out, his already ethereal body grew more translucent. He fixed on a small party of his captors. They were ugly little things that moved like squashed draenei but were scaled in some places and furred in others. They had vicious little mouths filled with sharp teeth and wore hooded and armored garments. Their eyes were red like molten earth and despite his obvious threat to them, they did not appear properly frightened.
It was clear to Zzeraku that they knew very little about nether dragons.”Foul little worms! Foul little gremlins!” he repeated. His body suddenly crackled with lightning the color of his wondrous self. He reached out a taloned paw as If to wipe away the creatures, the lightning suddenly shooting forth from it.
The first bolts went oddly astray, turning from the little creatures at the last moment. At the same time, the foreheads of each briefly revealed a strange, glowing rune.
Without hesitation, the captive nether dragon cast again. However, this time the lightning struck the ground around his tormentors. Rock and dirt exploded everywhere, the snarling little beasts thrown with the rest. Their hissing bodies scattered through the air with pleasing effect. “Foul little worms! Zzeraku will squash you all!”
He summoned more of his power.