the days of wiping
The dark portal opened, and Malizon stepped through.
Giant balls (of fire) and lances of ice, explosions of arcane energy continously pulsed in an orgy of battle, a paroxism of death. Small monsters simply exploded, larger ones toppled like trees, finally slamming to the ground.
Key fragments were procurred, the names of legends whispered on frightened lips, found at last, stolen from demons and devils at great cost.
Potions and flasks of power boiled in the blood, as instance after instance fell in either triumph or tears of cold frustration.
A coterie of monsters fell apart, fat and indolent, only to reform, streamlined and sexy.
The right was earned, and the day came, to step inside Karazhan. Armor was enchanted and polished, blades and daggers were variously sharpened to a monomolecular edge or slathered with the deadliest poisons.
Ten dedicated horde stepped inside.
Attumen the Hunter, fallen
Beast Boss, fallen
Maiden of virtue, down to ~50% after several wipes.
Harken the days of molten core...
most fun I've had in WoW in a long time
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