The Legend of Zelda: Genesis (Part 1)

Genesis

The iteration of the Church of Hyrule; concerning Genesis.

Upon the cresting waves of the chaotic vortexes, naught was. From that which was naught was brought forth that which is by they who were. They, the Three, unleashed their breath upon the Void, and at their Word chaos was cosmos.

Immortally existing beyond the fabric of Law, the Three are the contingency for the Laws for the Laws find their image in the Three. Eternal beings incapable of equality save in themselves and gloriously existing in harmony, transcending need or want. Absent of conflicting wills, the Three tamed the whirling Void by their soothing songs. This is their song:

Din: Hear, O Void, silence calls. Wispy notes of ephemeral eternity, cascading, colliding, touching, flowing, pouring: Nothing.

Faerore: Discern, you Emptiness, Order seeks thee. Lilting scores of wisdom wonder, are you satisfied?

Nayru: Empty; lifeless; do you fear, O Void? Lone, destitute, forlorn; does Silence seek a Song? Shall we oblige thee?

Din: These things I shall do unto our glory: Hear, O Void, and tremble! No longer shall you fleet, your ethereal trails shall be as one. Hear me, for I am Din, and my fire shall consume ye that obey not; may it be done.

Faerore: These things I shall do unto our glory: Hear, you forméd Void and gather before me. Order shall be your governor as we shall soon depart. Hear me, for I am Faerore, and my winds shall afflict ye that obey not; may it be done.

Nayru: These things I shall do unto our glory: Hear, you ordered Void and see! Motes of life and sparks of divinity shall tread your shape in our stead. Hear me, for I am Nayru, and my love shall depart from ye that obey not; may it be done.

And thus it was.

Sapphiron, Lord of the Frozen Wastes

"Who dares violate the sanctity of my domain..."

Kel'thuzad

Sapphiron: At last, it is I, mortals, Sapphiron. None may come to the Master except by me. Who am I, that I should be the prime guardian of the Great King’s elect? He was the first, you know. When the clarion resounded from the depth of the glacier, it was he who responded. Forsaking all for the service of the Great King, my Master is chief among the servants of our King. What memories of bliss! It was he, our King and Father who sought me out within my wretched existence, within the cavernous space of infantile life! What joy had I in guarding the inanimate relics of ancient kings long past to the wiles of time? Did I glean happiness from fellowship with my brethren, the Blue Ones? What a joyous day it was when he came, seeking my soul that I might be blessed in his service. That blade, my surrogate mother, carved my rebellious flesh and excised the malignant tumors of my banal desires and my base life. My life began anew that day, and I count all as loss against the unsurpassed glories of my King’s service. When the Master ascended to the heights of lichdom, it was I whom he chose to safeguard the sanctity of his holy domain. It Shall Not Be Spoken has become by home; It Shall Not Be Spoken has become my very life and I grant only whom I will to partake of an audience with the Master. My cold and lifeless bones I animate with my undying soul, and those who seek the Master’s downfall shall incur my wrath unabated. I was a prince in my former life, a lord of frigid magic. Though no match for my King in battle, I shall not allow any to live a single moment who seek the Master’s fall. My gargantuan form is not easily harnessed, nor blithely felled. In my former life, I was father and patriarch of my brood; all bowed before me, the preeminent in strength and vigor. Mortals, you too shall quake before me! My claws shall rend your flesh into ribbons; my vicious jaws shall rip the marrow from your bones; my tail shall crush your puny frames upon the cold walls of my sanctum. What of my icy breath? Who shall stand before me? The hoar that pours from my maw brings the very soul to a halt. There is power in my breast to still the stirrings of a thousand souls. I can rain shards of ice upon your fragile heads and spill your insignificant brain matter upon my floors. You desire still further to die? Proceed, mortals, invoke my wrath! An edifice of ice I shall create with one of your bodies. Quickly! Scurry behind the frozen corpse and look into the tortured eyes of your compatriot. His blood is stopped up; the soul has departed unto judgment before the King. Only a small portion of your number can fit behind it; choose this day whom shall live but a few moments longer! The end is upon you! I shall expel a mass of frozen energies the like of which you have never seen. At consummation, none but the few behind the edifice shall be left alive. They too shall fall. I, the prince of Naxxramas shall escort all who desire death to the throne of the King by my deadened wings. None but those whom I will survive my wrath.

Highlord Alexandros Mograine, the Red Rider of War

"The Master's will be done."

Highlord Alexandros Mograine: The last of the Four Horsemen is the most terrible of them all. The Red Rider of War, symbolizing the heart of the Lich King’s consummate hatred of the living is none other than the Highlord of the Scarlet Crusade, the Ashbringer. Once the most potent enemy of the Scourge, Mograine’s will was shattered by the diabolical machinations of Kel’thuzad. Having been run through by his own sword at hands of his own son, the blade he used to conquer the Scourge became corrupted in untold measure. Mograine now wields the Corruped Ashbringer in battle, serving as the preeminent military guard in Naxxramas. His crimson armor decks his rotting flesh as well as that of his mighty steed. Mograine is the most cruel of the Four Horsemen, having been broken beyond repairing by Kel’thuzad’s domination. His black heart drums to the beat of serving only his master the Archlich, allowing no mortal to pass his deadly combat prowess. A master of the blade, Mograine wields his two-handed claymore with astounding prowess. Imbued with the powers of the Scourge, the Corrupted Ashbringer wields the elements of shadow and unholy magic. A paladin in his former life, Mograine wields also the powers of the Light. As the supreme creation of Kel’thuzad, Mograine wields the powers of each of the other three Horsemen. His combat exploits are numerous, though he often lags behind the other three Horsemen while they cut the ranks of the Argent Dawn to pieces; Mograine will emerge to challenge the Champions and heavy infantry of the Argent Dawn. His utter cruelty will also goad him into massacring the weaker infantry as well. His presence spreads disease and his blade brings death. No battle has been lost when Mograine charges the field; he is the Rider of War.

The Mark of Mograine: Mograine’s mark blasts his foes with Unrighteous Fire. His former power of wielding the Light have become corrupted, similar to Sir Zeliek. Empowered by Kel’thuzad himself, Mograine wields also the powers of Unholy and Shadow magic. His mark targets the bodies of his foes in entirety, shattering minds and searing flesh alike. His presence is intolerable to weak souls; only the most devout champions of mortality could hope to stand before him.

Ultimate Power: Reaping—When presented before the Lich King as a choice gift from the Archlich, Mograine was taught a very potent melee attack by his King. The Lich King’s own move is infinitely more powerful, but Mograine’s is nothing to be trifled with. With an arcing slash of his Corrupted Ashbringer, the unholy powers housed within will spill over onto his foes, inflicting them with a concentrated form of his Mark.

Thane Kor'thazz, the Pale Rider of Death

"Cease yer snivelin' or I'll cease it for yeh!"

Thane Kor’thazz (Kor-thaz): Unlike any of the humanoid fiends at Kel’thuzad’s beck and call, Thane Kor’thazz is a Dwarf. Kor’thazz’s previous lot in life is unknown, but his affinity for death is the terror of the killing fields of the Plaguelands. Kor’thazz is a prime example that the Lich King’s merciless crusade extends to all races. Kor’thazz delights in keeping grisly trophies from his kills, often keeping the skulls of his victims. It is said that the blunt mace that he wields in battle is capped with the skull of his own father; truly a brutal legend. Kor’thazz bears a set of pale, white-green armor and a similarly colored hooded cloak on his back. His gray beard and crooked nose protrude from the hood and his glowing white eyes are often the last terrible sight that many see. Kor’thazz’s skeletal steed is likewise dressed in robes and armor plates of sickly greenish white color: a symbol of the life strangling nature of the Scourge. Kor’thazz employs a mix of fire and unholy magic in his attacks, often launching bolts of flaming bones at his foes. If these bullets do not make their mark they will animate and begin to attack Kor’thazz’s foes.

The Mark of Kor’thazz: As Kor’thazz employs unholy fire, so does his mark afflict his foes. The Mark will target the bones of his enemies, spreading a poison that eats the bones from the inside out. He calls this poison Wormwood.

Ultimate Power: Meteor—Kor’thazz’s unholy bolts of flaming bones come from his stockpile of trophies. The nearly unlimited amount of ammunition at his disposal is a testament to his record of evil. When he comes to a particularly worthy trophy or collection of trophies, he will unleash them all at once in a massive meteor like formation, crushing and incinerating its targets under the weight of its awful gloom.

Lady Blaumeux, the Black Rider of Pestilence

"We shall have all manner of fun with this one!"

Lady Blaumeux (Bleh-moh): Existing as a sort of counterpart to Grand Widow Faerlina, Lady Blaumeux is the only female of four in her coven, just as Faerlina is the only woman of the four Grand Necromancers. Lady Blaumeux represents the pestilential nature of the Scourge and her ruthlessness thusly knows no partiality. Perhaps more cruel than even the Red Rider, Lady Blaumeux revels in suffering, calling out in her seductive feminine voice as she wreaks havoc. A black veil covers her facial features save for her piercing green eyes. A river of silver hair comes out from her helmet in a pony-tail braid. Her armor is revealing to her rather tempting form but provides protection nonetheless. Her armor is a shining obsidian color as is the armor and dressing of her steed. Wielding the powers of shadow magic, Lady Blaumeux delights in inflicting sustained agony. Like the pestilence she represents, her methods are drawn out and excruciating. When she has had her way with magic, she will decapitate the drained foes with her razor sharp hand axe, forged in Sarronite flames and imbued with the blackened blood of a Faceless One.

The Mark of Blaumeux: Lady Blaumeux is a soul drain. Her ability to harness dark, shadow energies gives her also the ability to afflict souls painfully and continually.

Ultimate Power: Void—A woman of quickly changing emotions, Lady Blaumeux will become easily and intensely incensed. When thoroughly angered, she will unleash a concentrated pool of shadow energy upon her foes. Travelling like a vapor, the energies will suck corporeal beings into it like a vortex, suffocating them in its torturous hands. Like a thousand barbed hooks tearing at flesh, the Void will eviscerate any and all flesh within its bounds.

Sir Zeliek, the White Rider of Conquest

"I have no choice but to submit!"

Sir Zeliek (Zel-ee-ek): A Paladin by class in his former life, Sir Zeliek wields the power of the Light. Zeliek has proven to be a difficult soul to break by Kel’thuzad. Because of his stubbornness, he is the weakest of the Four Horsemen, gifted least by the Lich King. A formidable combatant nonetheless, Zeliek’s body fights voraciously for the Scourge while his mind and emotions betray his members. Donning a suit of shimmering white-silver, Zeliek is capped with a diadem of hardened diamond, bearing two wings of victory on each side. Zeliek’s skeletal charger is adorned with jewels and white dressings; all symbolic of the Scourge’s immanent victory over the mortal races. His ability to harness the potency of the Light is of particular use to Kel’thuzad; it is his ace in the hole. The crusaders of the Argent Dawn will not expect to be beset with attacks of Light magic, and will be duly unprepared to face Sir Zeliek. Above all, Zeliek is the sad testimony of the dominance of the Scourge and the unrelenting assault of the Lich King’s forces. Zeliek will often confuse his opponents as his voice and emotions cry out for his foes to flee his attacks. Inexperienced crusaders fall easily before Zeiliek’s flanged morning-star.

The Mark of Zeliek: Zeliek’s Mark is a burning sensation that increases over time. The twisted power of the Light that pours from his being breaks and flays the souls of his foes.

Ultimate Power: Holy Wrath—Though a stubborn soul, Zeliek’s spirit will eventually collapse under Kel’thuzad’s pressure if battle goes on too long. As his body tears and slaughters his enemies, his soul will not be able to bear the pain. Once Zeliek the Paladin succumbs to Zeliek the Death Knight (for a short while), he unleash Holy Wrath. This spell is a massive explosion of holy energies in intense proportion. Those caught in the blast will be consumed or severely burned by the last vestige of a Paladin’s power turned to evil.

The Four Horsemen

"All who trespass here are doomed." Kel'thuzad

The Four Horsemen: Grand champions of Kel’thuzad’s legions, this select group are the Honor Guard of Naxxramas. Each knight bears a colored suit of armor, symbolically representing the Tetragraph of Kel’thuzad’s infamous work, Scourge. Sir Zeliek the White Rider of Conquest represents the “already-but-not-yet” mentality of Scourge dominance. Lady Blaumeux the Black Rider of Pestilence represents the pervasive, all encompassing effect of the Scourge. Thane Kor’thazz the Pale Rider of Death represents the consummation of the Lich King’s design. Finally, Highlord Alexandros Mograine the Red Rider of War who represents the heart of the Lich King. Each Horseman bears an intrinsic Mark which they place upon their opponents. The utterly evil nature of these creations exudes like an aura upon those who intrude upon their chambers. As battle wages, the Marks increase in strength and deliver powerful afflictions to the Mark Bearers.

Gothik, the Harvester

"Death... is the only escape..."

Gothik the Harvester (Gaw-thik): The most powerful and most evil of Kel’thuzad’s Grand Necromancers, Gothik is the furthest along his path to becoming a lich of the four. Studying the principle texts on Lichdom by Kel’thuzad and partaking of fellowship with Mardraum the Grand Pontiff of the Cathedral of Darkness, Gothik is perpetually surrounded by the most wicked minds that Azeroth has to offer. His appearance is terrifying as are his methods of combat. In appearance, Gothik is the form of a sickeningly frail man. His nose is sunken completely and his entire face is stretched over his skull, his teeth showing through his lips and his jaw. His forehead is wrinkled and contorted. His eyes are a grayish, cloudy blue color. In his previous life, Gothik was much the opposite of his present look. He was a handsome, ruddy man with jet black hair and a goatee of facial hair. His form was lean yet muscular, quite different from the sight of his protruding bones now. His descent from higher society into the most foul pits of despondency is a tragic story, and his jaded and utter hatred of good is testified by his horrific exploits. Donning a ram skull helm upon his head and flowing black and azure robes, Gothik often paces about his sanctum in the Military Quarter of Naxxramas, reflecting on the iterations of his master and his written works. Gothik’s placement in the Military Quarter may seem odd as his sickly body is of no use to a forward brute force charge. He chooses to be housed in the Military Quarter for his combat purposes. His title “The Harvester” comes from his ability to drain or harvest flesh from his enemies. His necromantic powers are incredible and terrifying, as is his wrath. As a necromancer, he uses the magic school of Animation. This school of necromancy employs the use of animated or constructed minions such as skeletal warders and skeletal constructs. He uses his proximity to the Military Quarter to call in Vrykul warriors when his crafted legions fall. When the Vrykul fall he conscripts the Death Knights of Razuvious’ school to fight for him. These waves of minions only serve to set in motion his ultimate power, a spell of devastatingly terrible power. Gothik’s frail form requires him to use a walking staff, one he has imbued with great power and fixed a scythe blade upon. His scythe is fitting as he is indeed the Harvester.

Ultimate Power: Ritual of the Harvest—Gothik’s necromantic powers are of the school of Animation which contains certain subsets such as Construction and Domination. When foes enter his sanctum, Gothik will begin the Ritual of the Harvest, one of the most diabolical spells in his arsenal, and fitting to his name. Gothik’s chambers are lined with myriads of cages housing prisoners and beasts. Gothik will make use of these prisoners to harvest their flesh by channeling his necromantic power. As he drains their fluids and organs, his appearance begins to change. His sickly, frail body will begin to morph in stages back to the handsome form of his previous life. Once the ritual is complete he will unleash the power upon his foes. Because Gothik is rendered immobile while he is channeling the power, his animations and dominated conscripts will fight to the death to defend him. Waves of skeletons, Vrykul and Death Knights will hold off the Crusaders while he gains his power. When the ritual is complete he will command his remaining warriors to phalanx a single Crusader to behold the ritual’s dark effect. Gothik will unleash a barrage of seeds into his foes; Sowing the seeds. The seeds will cause the foes to become engorged and bloated, and they will amalgamate into a massive, contorted blob of flesh; Bountiful growth. Gothik will then charge his scythe with untold amounts of power; Plow the field. He will then cast the charged scythe into the flesh blob instigating a massive explosion of limbs, blood and gore; Reap the harvest. Each of the four stages of the spell consumes the flesh Gothik harvests throughout the ritual and he reverts to his pallid, skeletal form once more.

Note: The picture and the description in the text do not match; the textual description is my own take on the character

Razuvious, the Instructor

"You disappoint me..."

Instructor Razuvious (Reh-zhoo-vee-us): Of all the greatest champions of the Lich King, many if not most fall into the category of Death Knight. The task of the Military Quarter in Naxxramas is to train the forward marching infantry of the Scourge, the tactical operatives that command the grunts (Ghouls, Skeletons, Abominations, etc.) and lead the charges against the mortal races. Heading up the grand and laborious task of training these operatives is Razuvious, also known as the Instructor. Razuvious is an incredibly cruel yet unimaginably effective trainer whose methods create the most feared of the Lich King’s agents. The legions of Acherus are the direct trainees of Razuvious’ methods and he frequents the necropolis when not training his soldiers in Naxxramas. Sporting a full suit of armor forged from the icy bases of Icecrown Citadel itself, Razuvious is nearly impervious to physical damage. His combat prowess is on the same levels as Highlord Mograine of the Scarlet Crusade and Korfaxx Champion of the Argent Dawn. He often spars with the Four Horsemen, choosing to engage all four at once and even holding his own! His abilities with any physical weaponry make him an extremely dangerous foe and his Scourge only increases the limits to which he can push himself. It is said that only the Death Knight acolytes can truly withstand his crushing strength, and even they buckle easily beneath his hand. His primary tool of destruction is his trusted runeblade, not atypical to a Death Knight. With it he channels the power of the Deadly Triumvirate, the runes of Blood, Frost, and Unholy power. Unlike his trainees who devote themselves to the mastery of one particular school of Runic Power, Razuvious has mastered all three. It is this incredible feat that gave him favor in the eyes of the archlich. Kel’thuzad was pleased to employ him in the service of training his warriors. With his runeblade, Razuvious wreaks unearthly havoc upon his foes. His potency with the blade and his knowledge of physical combat and defense allows him to pinpoint weaknesses in an enemy almost instantly. He has decapitated and dismembered foes on a record that rivals even Thaddius’ unholy reign of terror. Rumor has it that he is being employed by the Lich King to train the most deadly warrior that Azeroth has ever known.

Ultimate Power—Cleave: A favorite offensive maneuver of many warrior-type classes, Razuvious’ technique bears little difference to the norm. With his wicked blade he will enact a sweeping, arc of destruction; where the angle of the arc hits its target is where that target will be severed in two.

Loatheb

"The races of the world shall perish."

Loatheb (Wah-theyb): Within the darkest corners of Naxxramas lay an entity of unimaginable horror. The beast called Loatheb is enigmatic and rarely seen. The most dank and dimly lighted sanctum of Naxxramas houses a labyrinthine forest of fungi. Bioluminescent mushrooms give off hazy phosphorescence until the vestiges of the forest run so deep and so thick that only artificial light is able to guide. Within the hive of spores and fungal life exists a core from which all the fungi stem. The network of roots runs throughout the entirety of the citadel, penetrating each of the lower wings, however the frigidity of Sapphiron’s lair does not give the roots a stable environment to thrive in. The biology of the fungal root system is incredibly complex, boasting a networked system of sensory receptors similar to the nervous system of the most complex organisms. The core within the deepest stretches of the root system is actually an organism in itself. The heart of the fungi is called Loatheb or “They which devour life.” Two bulging, red eyes protrude from the nucleus and the twisting roots form amorphous facial features. Loatheb is the fully developed, most perfectly evolved strain of Scourge, the plague which Kel’thuzad unleashed upon Lordaeron. Lesser creatures that wander into the presence of Loatheb are instantly assimilated into its consciousness and begin to devolve into the fungal root system. Only the most ardent of the Crusaders could ever hope to even come close to Loatheb, and it is reasonable to believe the Loatheb cannot be stopped. The regenerative properties of the fungal root system render Loatheb nearly invincible to any form of harm. Even fire damage cannot affect the roots; the constant emission of spores from Loatheb chokes the flames and their tendency to spread. Loatheb’s methods of combat are sinister and cruel, reflecting his primitive and innate qualities of evil. He will use his root system to rear up and strangle, impale or crush his foes. He will also emit spores that target the respiratory systems of his foes, causing roots to grow within their vocal apparatus and their lungs; the victim will suffer painfully and slowly till death. The choking spores render spell casting completely ineffective; incantations cannot be spoken or read without a vocal apparatus. The towering mushrooms also bend to Loatheb’s will; they will burst to expel the most undiluted Scourge possible. All of these methods of attack are controlled by Loatheb in mechanical fashion, welling over with cruelty and emotionless malice. No one survives the beast called Loatheb.

Ultimate Power: Inception—Loatheb’s ultimate ability is put into effect as soon as intruders enter into his sanctum. This wretched machination targets the mind. Beginning only as nagging, fleeting visions, the mind poisoning effect of Loatheb’s presence progresses to waking nightmares. The afflicted are induced into a trance-like state as sanity quickly begins to fade. Friends will turn upon each other and victims will tear at their own bodies in an attempt to rid the visions. Vomiting, seizures and shock are followed by suicide. The end product of Inception is a mound of mutilated and flayed corpses.

Heigan, the Unclean

"Close your eyes. Sleep..."

Heigan the Unclean (Hye-gen): As his title says, this dreadful necromancer is utterly debauched. Perhaps a more fitting title would be “The Unholy” as this uninhibited fiend sets apart nothing in his ruthlessness. Like Noth, Gothik, and Faerlina, Heigan is one of the four Grand Necromancers in Kel’thuzad’s inner circle. Similar to Noth, Heigan is an undead human and of similar form. He is a bit more fleshly than Noth, and dons bright yellow-green robes with patterns of red and violet markings. It is difficult to discern the blood and bile stains from the colors on the robes, however. A former musician in the first life, Heigan has retained his love for the art of music as an agent of the Scourge. His chamber boasts a tall, elevated platform similar to a conductor’s stand in an orchestra. Upon it he rests, out of reach of nearly all physical harm. This bodes well for Heigan, as his flesh is terribly rotted and very weak; the effects of taking up residence in the Plague Quarter. From his conductor’s stand Heigan employs his sole means of combat. The ground floor of his chamber is fixed up to a system of pipes. Heigan’s enchanted baton creates horrid music that flows to the rhythms of his movement. As Heigan’s music progresses, the cadences and the crescendos are met with eruptions of scalding hot Scourge Serum from the pipe system. The pipes can only bear so much of the enhanced Scourge Serum so the system alternates which pipes issue forth the jets of liquid, thus forcing Heigan’s combatants to literally dance about the room to avoid being melted and scourged by the exploding pipes. Heigan gets an immense amount of glee watching his befuddled foes scurry about in ignorance to their imminent deaths. Being in control of the flow of the pipes, Heigan will vary the meter of his awful music from time to time in order to ensure that his prey does not detect the musical patterns. A genius of musicianship, Heigan will be able to trap certain prey and force his comrades to watch as torrents of acid pour all over the hapless body. Heigan has a sadistic affinity to targeting females with his musical traps; he believes their high pitched screams accent the wicked music he so cherishes.

Ultimate Power: Opus #1 Eruption—Heigan’s most devastatingly vicious attack is a particular piece of music that he issues forth. As the battle progresses and his foes launch incessant barrages of ranged magic at him, he will begin to play the horrifying music. At the final cadence, the pipe system beneath the ground floor will completely burst, an ocean of virulent Scourge Serum erupting over the entire arena. Though Kel’thuzad desires survivors of the Argent Crusade, Heigan’s ultimate power spares no one.

Noth, the Plaguebringer

"My task is done."

Noth the Plaguebringer: Seemingly insignificant in outward appearance, this undead human is a wicked, ruthless sorcerer. Exhumed from the ruins of Dalaran, this ex-magician was given a proper and ritual resurrection within the depths of the Scholomance. A frightful failure as a Scourge necromancer at first, Kel’thuzad put Noth up to a task that would test his servitude to the Lich King. Upon failing to execute the task, Kel’thuzad ripped Noth’s heart from his chest and encased it within a cask of black colored ice. Placing it back into Noth’s chest, Kel’thuzad had created a monster. Without hesitation, Noth performed his task and set about the use of Agatha Stefens’ body as the avatar for Maexxna the Spider Queen. With Faerlina, Heigan and Gothik, Noth enjoys the title of Grand Necromancer, a coven of servants under the direct tutelage of Kel’thuzad. Each of them hope to become a lich one day, and thus they enjoy a rather caustic if not scathingly humorous relationship with each other. Noth is a simple human figure, thin yet more fleshly than Gothik. His robes are of the darkest Nerubian silk with tassels of violet and cuffs made of bear’s fur. His hair comes just below his chin, a river of gray. His eyes are white in color, devoid of life and emotion; a tribute to his frozen heart. Noth himself gives off a powerful aura of coldness to those around him. Direct physical contact with him is dangerous; naked flesh will become hypothermic nearly instantly; his body decays flesh on contact. His powers as a necromancer are great and his physical combat equals that of Grand Widow Faerlina. More skilled in the art of avoidance, he is quick on his feet and very agile. He is able to deflect and glance weapon strikes off of his frigid body, and often spars with the death knights of the military quarter for training purposes. Unsurprisingly, his offensive magic is of the School of Frost in majority. Choosing not to employ bolts and lances of frost as most mages do, he creates an extremely dangerous hypothermic aura about himself. He does this by pulling the black heart from his chest and placing it within a lantern. The light producing qualities of the lantern intensify the radiation of frigid energy and expel it beyond the wielder. Noth’s necromantic abilities deal in the art of curse-diseases. He will afflict his foes with any number of diseases in the form of magical curses, a melding of the arts in a powerful way. These diseases will perhaps cripple the legs and spine, embroil the skin in bleeding pustules or induce a spreading fever. Whatever Noth has up the sleeves of his robe is sure to wreak havoc on his opponents in battle, slaking the thirst of his blackened heart for terror.

Ultimate Power: Cryosanguinaris Majoris—This utterly devastating spell is used by Noth when fighting a large group of foes. As is often the case with the legions of the Argent Dawn, large battalions of fighters are loosed into the corridors of Scourge holdings. Noth’s spell is particularly useful against this mob mentality. Unleashing the entire power of his frigid heart, he will cause the cardiovascular systems in his foes to explode with ice crystals, in the arteries, veins, blood stream and finally the heart. This spell is said to cause nigh unto unbearable pain, exhorting many of the afflicted to fall upon their own swords.

The Heart of Discord at Birth

Scourge Liturgy----


To the Titan of Flesh; the Heart of Discord at Birth

The cauldron of my brother’s cruelty has born its first and beloved child!
A heart; an organ pulsing twain his breast and bone
Discord harrowed; chaos pathways carved! The beating softly drums, a babe in sin is born.

Can the Heart of Discord be contained?
O that it might well over!
What hems in the insanity but the existence of the ignorant?

Those who do not know shall be cast into the light,
But so dark is that light—that blackened heart!
It shall dig for them a grave as the blood of dusk seeps slowly into nightfall.

"Your flesh is a host, a gathering of the innocent;
Your soul is a swarm, a hive of weak fodder;
Your heart is a choir, a clarion of my cruelty."

-Mardraum, Pontifex Maximus

Thaddius, the Scourged Titan

"You are too late! I OBEY."

Thaddius (Thad-ee-us): Of all the ghastly minions in the service of Kel’thuzad, Thaddius is the most hated. Thaddius is a brutal titan of flesh, the pinnacle of Scourge construction. Composed similarly to Patchwerk and Gluth, Thaddius is the amalgamation of countless bodies. Much worse than Patchwerk and Gluth, however, he is not a construction of simple fodder, slaughterhouse pieces stitched in makeshift. Thaddius was created, under Kel’thuzad’s blessing, almost entirely of women and children. The soul glutted ruins of Stratholme were ripe for the picking as Kel’thuzad and his Grand Necromancers tore the restless souls of the helpless women and children from their resting place where they were slaughtered by Arthas. Male flesh makes up the bulk of the titan’s outward appearance, but the animating factor in Thaddius are the countless tortured souls of hapless innocents. The souls were literally smelted together in the soul wells in Naxxramas, the screams echoing throughout the halls and corridors of the citadel. The blood curdling howls can still be heard from Thaddius’ hollow form. The bodies used in his construction were emaciated, drained, and thrown into a stretching pit where the bones and skin were forced over each other to form a giant. Thaddius’ lower body is heavily armored by unknown alloys of unimaginable durability. Thaddius’ arms and hands are extremely muscled, as is his entire body, bearing differing shades of skin color stretched along the frame. His head is formed of multiple faces and in some places, notably around the left eye, only muscular tissue is showing. Thaddius’ lower jaw, like Gluth, is a hinged metallic substitute. He does not employ it as Gluth does in combat, but it does serve to allow his voice to resonate more loudly, the screams of his captured souls radiating and piercing the air. Of particular notice is the single pauldron upon his left shoulder. Its purpose is unknown, but shields that portion of his nigh unto invincible body even further. The most terrifyingly powerful weapon at Thaddius’ arsenal is his heart. Pulsing with immeasurable energies, it is a wellspring of volatile substance. The souls within Thaddius’ being wage war with the darkness that sustains him and so great is the struggle that it radiates outward from his husk. Kel’thuzad’s magi were able to harness the power and allow Thaddius to control it. This allows Thaddius to increase his combat capabilities as well as power is ultimate ability.

Ultimate Power: Polarity—As Thaddius’ heart waged war within himself, Thaddius was given the ability channel the power. Thaddius is able to force the warring energies upon his foes, thus effectively granting them a polarity (similar to the repulsing effects of a magnet). A certain foe will be given the positive emotions of hatred, anger, fury and the like; another foe will be given the negative energies of weakness, fear, and sorrow. The two energies will clash mightily with each other. If two opposite polarities are in close proximity, the hosts of the conflicting polarities will disintegrate. The unpredictability of this combat mechanism makes Thaddius one of Kel’thuzad’s most powerful agents.

Gluth, the Plagued Canine

"You have only taken one step closer to the abyss." Kel'thuzad


Gluth (Glooth): Gluth is a creature terrible to behold. The first of his kind, Gluth is a Scourge Canine. Created in a similar fashion as the Abominations, Gluth is a composition of a vast number of creatures. Gluth is a prototype to what could be called Scourge Beasts. Like a canine, Gluth is quadrapedal, bears incredibly muscular legs, and a powerful jaw. Standing over ten feet tall from his paws to the top of his head, Gluth is a terribly formidable creature. Gluth’s paws are set with serrated nails, grown and honed to lethal qualities. The nails are not incredibly sharp, but serve for gripping and pinning prey to the floor of his blood stained chambers. Like a domestic canine playing with its master, Gluth will pounce and hold down his prey. Instead of producing affectionate kisses and licks, Gluth’s savage temper will lead his quarry unto a grizzly death. Gluth’s most noticeable feature is his jaw. The Scourge Canine’s lower jaw is completely made of metal. Hardened sarronite composes the mandible of the creature, set with pneumatic hinges engineered to clamp with such a force as to sever a building from its foundation. The havoc and devastation that it inflicts upon flesh is unimaginable. Notched with blunted “teeth” the metallic bite of Gluth is impossible to live through. Prey are ground and crushed into chunks and bits, morsels for the ravenous beast. Gluth bears an inherent weakness however, as he is a prototype. Gluth’s organic makeup is such that it requires an almost constant supply of sustenance for him to remain combat effective. If his appetite is not slaked, he will become sluggish and lethargic. If he goes long enough without food, he will be induced into a coma. Swift foes can avert his bite long enough to slow him down and ultimately stop him totally. The engineers of the Scourge have crafted a set of tunnels and passage ways that force zombies and ghouls into Gluth’s chamber should the need arise. Small cadres of zombies are placed into his chamber periodically to keep him from falling asleep. When engaged in combat, however, legions of zombies are unleashed into his chamber, their sole purpose to fuel his hunger. These walking bits of food are infused with a powerful performance enhancing drug that causes Gluth to frenzy. Enough food in his stomach will make him utterly unstoppable. Gluth is not incredibly quick footed, but he is not nearly as slow as he might seem. This he uses to his advantage as he stalks and jumps on his prey. None enter Gluth’s chamber save those with a death wish; he eats anything he sees. Only Kel’thuzad and the highest agents of the Scourge can pacify him.

Ultimate Power: Glancing Bite—Gluth will dispatch of numerous foes, and thus increase his energy level, by turning his head to an unnatural degree measure. With his jaw completely upright, he will rush and clamp down with undeterred strength on his enemies, reducing them to mere puddles of gore and blood in his mouth.

Grobbulus, the Wretched Flesh Giant

"Your flesh will do the delights of the starved worms"

Grobbulus (Grob-yu-luss): Grobbulus happens to be one of the most wretched creations of Kel’thuzad. While plundering the souls from the conquered forest trolls in the Eastern Plaguelands, Kel’thuzad made contact with a number of trolls of awful demeanor. The souls of sadists, serial killers, and predators of all kinds were eager to enlist in the ranks of the Scourge. Of course these trolls were utterly mad, as no troll would ever truly desire to be subjugated by another people. The insanity and wickedness of these trolls were great fuel for the creature called Grobbulus. Composed of cold machinery, pulsing flesh, and devilish souls, Grobbulus is a truly terrible creature. Grobbulus is, perhaps, the height of Scourge bioengineering. Grobbulus stands as the capstone of the fusion between machinery and flesh in Naxxramas. Standing nearly ten feet tall, Grobbulus is a regular giant compared to the mortal races. His lower torso and legs are armored by thick plates of sarronite. Upon his chest and filling the chest cavity is a tank of Scourge Serum, the concentrated form of the Plague that was spread upon Lordaeron. The Serum is incredibly lethal to mortal flesh and will react potently with the cells on living creatures. This tank of fluid in his chest is linked by a series of tubes to a set of cylindrical tanks on his back. These tanks mix the Serum with compressed air and are in turn linked to the massive syringe on his right arm. This syringe is his main form of offensive combat. Using the tanks on his back, he is able to expunge bursts of Scourge Serum upon his foes. Any flesh that makes contact with the liquid will rapidly deteriorate and effectively melt away. If the Serum does not make contact, whatever it does make contact with will become a festering pool of rotten liquid. The pool will not be incredibly dangerous, but the chemical reaction between the Serum and the air will produce a large, expanding cloud of toxic fumes. To breathe these fumes is to cause death almost immediately. Upon his left arm, Grobbulus bears a massive sledge where his hand should be. In effect, Grobbulus has no opposable appendages (his feet are encased in plated boots and his arms are a set of weapons). The sledge on his arm is used to bat foes away from himself or to simply crush bone in offensive maneuvering. Though his weapon of second choice, he will not hesitate to employ it if he deems it necessary or fitting to end a foe by pure blunt trauma. Grobbulus’ face bears no facial features save but a complete circle of long, yellow teeth which enclose around a large tube that links to the tanks on his back. Grobbulus, though blind, is a wicked killing machine devoid of emotion and trained simply to destroy.

Ultimate Power: Injection—Grobbulus will often use his sledge to sweep foes away in an arc while impaling a lone combatant with his syringe. He will pump the impaled foe with Scourge Serum until the now dead quarry becomes a sac of Scourge Serum and flesh. He will cast the bloated bag of rot into a gaggle of his enemies, rupturing it in the process and spilling Scourge Serum all over the others. Truly a gruesome end.

Patchwerk, the Avatar of War

"I am the Avatar of War"

Patchwerk (Patch-work): Given the citadel of Naxxramas, Kel’thuzad was determined to exceed his master’s expectations of service. Patchwerk is, perhaps, the tribute to this spirit. Bearing the title Avatar of War, this behemoth guards the entrance to the inner sanctum of the Construct Quarter of the necropolis. Patchwerk is, without a doubt, the largest Abomination ever created. Composed of nearly a thousand corpses, this hulking mass of twisted flesh is disgusting to behold and despicable to consider. In the process of creating an Abomination, half the combat proficiency of the creature is striking fear into the hearts of the enemy with its appearance. To demoralize prey with its size and its features is to win half the battle; the blob of corpses need only make use of its infantile intellect to pursue and rend its quarry limb from limb. Patchwerk deviates little form this pattern. Limbs stretch out of his glutted torso in every direction, hands bearing chained hooks, meat cleavers, and sickles, to intimidate foes. These small appendages serve little purpose in the thick of combat, but may land a blow here and there. Patchwerk’s torso is stitched poorly with viscera dumping from the gaping hole as ribs protrude from his chest. Patchwerk’s head is adorned with multiple faces stitched together—five eyes, two mouths, two noses. Patchwerk’s legs are mostly covered by the fat and gore that hangs out of his chest cavity, but his two tree-trunk-like arms are easily seen and terribly dangerous weapons. A chained hook in his right hand and a massive cleaver in his left, Patchwerk’s other arms assist in granting muscle behind his devastating melee strikes. While most Abominations speak in stupors and childish words, Patchwerk is a diabolical killing machine, granted the privilege of intellect and the ability to strategize. His lethality is nearly unparalleled among Kel’thuzad’s legions, and he is very proud of his kill count. Often, he desires to use the assorted giblets and limbs of his prey to his own advantage by having the Damned Constructors stitch them onto his body.

Ultimate Power: Hateful Strike—If threatened in some way by a large group of enemies, Patchwerk will make use of all the muscles in his body to strike with all the weapons at his disposal. The result is a pile of mangled and maimed corpses before him.

Maexxna, the Spider Queen

"Cower before my terrible creations!" -The Lich King

Maexxna (Mesh-nah): The final foe within the Spider Wing of Naxxramas, Maexxna is an unimaginably large spider. This gargantuan arachnid is the true form of Grand Widow Faerlina. In the Nerubian tongue, “Maexxna” is loosely translated “mother.” Maexxna was likely the brood mother of a very numerous and very long line of primitive Nerubian slaves, and was found in a very dark corner of the lowest sections of the Upper Kingdom. She was detained by the higher Nerubians and the viziers were able to lull her into a comatose state via magic. Having slain numerous Nerubians in the process, Maexxna is no beast to be trifled with. She was transported to the upper levels of Azjol’nerub and presented to King Arthas as a spoil of the conflict. Arthas commissioned her into the service of Kel’thuzad, but first employed the service of Mardraum, the Grand Pontiff of the Cathedral of Darkness, for creating an avatar for the massive spider. Faerlina was spawned as a result of the debauched ritual, and their powers are linked symbiotically. If either Faerlina or Maexxna is weakened or slain, the counterpart will suffer a great blow to her power. Maexxna was injected by Grobbulus with immense amounts of Scourged Plague Serum, increasing her endurance and lethality to even greater heights. Maexxna’s formidable form was already enough to deter entire battalions of foes, but her scourged body can now engage in offensive combat that exceeds that of her consort Hadronoxx. Maexxna is still used as a brood mother, laying clutches of eggs and producing scourged spiders to fuel the legions of Kel’thuzad’s citadel. Her girth enables her to overpower and crush her prey while her legs are barbed and sharpened for lacerating and puncturing flesh. Her infected body is able to pass diseases into the blood stream of her prey by simply being in their presence. Concentrated doses of venom and pathogen are administered by her fanged bites.

Ultimate Power: Web Spray—Maexxna will not hesitate to make use of her spinnerets to utterly incapacitate a group of enemies if she has grown tired of fighting. She will spray webs in a large, conical area in front of her and the tensile nature of the webs will suffocate, strangle, or immobilize prey.

Grand Widow Faerlina, Avatar of the Spider Queen

"Kneel before me, wretch!"

Grand Widow Faerlina (Far-leen-ah): The Grand Widow is a devil of she-devils. Boasting an utterly awful relation with Anub’rekhan, she is often to be found in Anub’rekhan’s Parlor, willingly subjecting herself to the sexual advances of the great beast. Her lust for relations with the great Nerubian is a result of her being the avatar of the guardian of the Spider Wing, Maexxna. Her humanoid form boasts the beauty of the most ravishing temptress, a supple figure, auburn hair coming to her shoulders, emerald eyes, and tanned skin. She sports also the Plagueheart Regalia, a set of robes blessed with necromantic power by Kel’thuzad. Faerlina is one of the four Grand Necromancers of Naxxramas, the colleague of Noth the Plaguebringer, Heigan the Unclean, and Gothik the Harvester. The three men often poke fun at her relationship to her spiders, her acolytes and Anub’rekhan, but she is sharp as her fangs and is capable of jesting in return. Mentioned above are her acolytes. Faerlina’s offensive strategy is to fight alongside a coven of trained acolytes, her mind slaves. Subordinating the acolytes with her mind, a select number of the Cult of the Damned, she empowers them as they defend her. Her body is frail but her powers are to be feared. The acolytes hold down their prey while Faerlina rains fire upon the intruders, incinerating both the acolyte and his quarry. Her fire is wrathful and potent, increased in power by the armor she wears. She bears also a wicked runeblade, which she uses to carve the flesh and souls of her opponents. Often the acolytes will flank a single opponent and hold him while Faerlina acquaints the flesh of her victim with the scarring, plague infused blade. She is terribly wicked and her unfair combat tactics make her a formidable foe. She does not particularly seek lichdom but an entirely new office that Kel’thuzad has convened with her about: Grand Inquisitor. Her skills with the blade and her select group of servants would allow her to easily target, capture and torture the particularly troublesome members of the Argent Dawn.

Ultimate Power: Frenzy—Should an acolyte fall while her mind powers are in effect, this will induce an unstoppable rage within Faerlina, in which her haste and the power of her fire spells will increase to untold levels of potency. Any attempt to stop her will only incite within her a greater ferocity.

Anub'rekhan, The Lord of the Parlor

"I hear little hearts beating... come closer now... just a little taste will do."

Anub’rekhan (Ah-nube-reh-kahn): A Nerubian crypt lord and subordinate of Anub’arak. This wretched, hulking insect bears little difference to the appearance of any other crypt lord, but each one bears his own personality and with it the idiosyncratic habits that give rise to his infamy. Anub’rekhan is no divergence from this pattern. Residing in his own chambers in Naxxramas, he refers to his massive dwelling place as his “parlor.” Nerubian architecture dominates the chamber, replete with artifacts, tables, chairs, and a throne which his girth rests upon. A moat of plagued fluid hems his square chamber in on three sides, the fourth side bearing a door that locks at his command. The “parlor” bears an unusually high ceiling, allowing for Anub’rekhan’s voice to resonate throughout the place. Using this to his sickly advantage, he welcomes intruders through his gates before he begins his offensive. Certain happenings within the Parlor are often left unspoken by the mortal races, the despicable nature of them unfit for common conversation. Anub’rekhan is best described as sadistic; his revels in inflicting pain, in torturing, and in sexually abusing his victims. His various proboscis and needle-like appendages are well suited for his disgusting desires. He is often accompanied by two female Nerubian consorts who satisfy his desires as well as aid in his torturing of intruders. If they are slain in the course of struggle, Anub’rekhan will immediately cease the games of cat-and-mouse that he plays with his victims and will frenzy. At this point he will be nigh unto impossible to detain. He is intricate and systematic in his torture methods, invading the orifices, quartering limbs slowly, or unleashing hosts of hungry scarabs to feed upon his opponents.

Ultimate Power: Utter Devour—As Anub’rekhan grows tired of pursuing his prey, he will cease the hunt and take his victims into his barbed mouth to grind their flesh to tiny shreds and scraps.

Minions of the Cold Dark

Minions! Servants! Soldiers of the Cold Dark! Obey the call of Kel'thuzad...

The clarion call of the servile fiends of the archlich, Kel’thuzad.
These are his most feared:

-Spider Wing-
Anub'rekhan
Grand Widow Faerlina
Maexxna

-Abomination Wing-
Patchwerk
Grobbulus
Gluth
Thaddius

-Plague Wing-
Noth the Plaguebringer
Heigan the Unclean
Loatheb

-Military Wing-
Instructor Razuvius
Gothik the Harvester
The Four Horsemen

-Sapphiron's Lair-
Sapphiron

These names bear an unremitting stench in the nostrils of the servants of righteousness. Each one is an abominable creature whose life must be put to an end by the stalwart champions of the Argent Dawn. The corridors of Naxxramas are opened; only fools dare to enter...

Quadrivium Abominibilis (Patchwerk, Grobbulus, Gluth, Thaddius) is the first sect of Naxxramas that mocks the innocence and sanctity of life. It is this branch of Scourge Doctrine that Kel'thuzad calls the most primitive, yet most foundational section of Doctrine. Without it, the Scourge has no objective.

Trivium Animalis (Anub'rekhan, Maexxna, Loatheb) is the second sect of Naxxramas that is testament to the far-reaching potential for the Scourge to devour all life. Kel'thuzad deems this second in the books of Scourge Doctrine, having its foundation upon Quadrivium Abominibilis. When the sanctity of life is abased, none escape the arms of the Lich King.

Quadrivium Necromanticus (Faerlina, Noth, Heigan, Gothik) is the third sect of Naxxramas. Necromanticus is the stage of Scourge Doctrine that acts as an emulsion of Animalis and its antithesis, Life. The transcendence of Necromanticus as a Doctrine is not to be dealt with dismissively; it is the portion of Scourge Doctrine that puts in practice what is laid forth in Abominibilis and Animalis.

Quadrivium Bellum (The Four Horsemen) is the fourth sect of Naxxramas. Bellum is the Doctrine of inevitability. When Necromanticus is applied, the antithesis of Animalis(Life) bears the intrinsic reaction of backlash. Bellum is the Doctrine of the Scourge that was made possible with the fusion of Arthas and Ner'zhul.


These are the iterations of Kel'thuzad, Archlich

Beginnings

Greetings and welcome to this journal. Here we are but one-of-many, a link of the legionnaire, a portion in the pot of the perpetual prattling, prizing picturesque prim-rose paths pointing in the poorly painted provocations of our precipitous presumptions to a prize, the pontification of our peers upon our prose.

It is here that you will find a most interesting facet of the fluctuating faculties of this frazzled fool, namely the despondent drivel dumping dourly and drearily from the dismal denizens of my devils.

What devils are these? Nothing, dear reader, more than fictitious freaks, propounded profligates, and mythical malefactors. Even these are in limitation. This journal is simply an expose, an excursus, an expounding of my mind those things of which I have encountered in the fictitious realms and sought to make use of a copia of language to enliven. Verily the void venture of vexing my voyage is voluptuously villainesque as the virulent villains that I intend here to vivify! It is my wracking desire to write, and write I shall. Though theological thoughts theme my thinking thoroughly, this theater thrives by theories of therapeutic theses: fiction.

It will be optative objective to obtain an opsis of un-ostentatious operations in opening such operatic orations as fall under the category of virtual entertainment. As such I endeavor to take artistic liberty where I desire, though it behooves me to give full credit to the proprietors of the elements that I make use of in this journal.

Disclaimer: None may fully enjoy these but that can swallow words that may turn the stomach or repulse the senses. I intend not to be graphic in my depictions of violence, nor do I intend for the reader to be tempted into such a position. In the same way, I intend neither to be pornographic, but merely sensual if such needs arise in the prose. We intend here only to use the craftiness of the English language to convey such images that are often left unexplained or explained only minutely. This, I hope, the reader will glean from the writings. Not every piece of information conveyed within these following posts will jive in fullness with their counterparts, but such is the price of artistic liberty.

Fare thee well, reader. The ramblings of a grim and fictitious soul follow in our wake.

~R