About: Krasgoth

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About: Krasgoth Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

The first thing he remembers in his life is waking up in the midst of a pouring rainstorm, underneath a windmill in Agamand Mills. Soaked, looking only for cover and avoiding the marauding skeletons, he came to Brill, garbed only in a thin cloak as he patiently waited out the storm. He staggered aimlessly, his memory foggy as the innkeeper asked him if he knew where he was, where he had came from, and what he had done in the past. It was apparently a common problem, forsaken gravitated to Brill, newly cursed or just searching for their bretheren. The trouble was, he had no idea what he was doing, why he was there, or what had happened to him. His skin and demeanor looked pale to him in a mirror, but Krasgoth was never sure if that was how he was in life, or an afteraffect of something that

Attributes	Values
rdfs:label	Krasgoth
rdfs:comment	The first thing he remembers in his life is waking up in the midst of a pouring rainstorm, underneath a windmill in Agamand Mills. Soaked, looking only for cover and avoiding the marauding skeletons, he came to Brill, garbed only in a thin cloak as he patiently waited out the storm. He staggered aimlessly, his memory foggy as the innkeeper asked him if he knew where he was, where he had came from, and what he had done in the past. It was apparently a common problem, forsaken gravitated to Brill, newly cursed or just searching for their bretheren. The trouble was, he had no idea what he was doing, why he was there, or what had happened to him. His skin and demeanor looked pale to him in a mirror, but Krasgoth was never sure if that was how he was in life, or an afteraffect of something that
dcterms:subject	dbkwik:resource/KeCs8sVnBS0pjrrYCGVmyA== dbkwik:resource/VA8dgV1Po0vcSUQK7Ij_xQ== Forsaken Forsaken Horde Warlock Horde Warlock
abstract	The first thing he remembers in his life is waking up in the midst of a pouring rainstorm, underneath a windmill in Agamand Mills. Soaked, looking only for cover and avoiding the marauding skeletons, he came to Brill, garbed only in a thin cloak as he patiently waited out the storm. He staggered aimlessly, his memory foggy as the innkeeper asked him if he knew where he was, where he had came from, and what he had done in the past. It was apparently a common problem, forsaken gravitated to Brill, newly cursed or just searching for their bretheren. The trouble was, he had no idea what he was doing, why he was there, or what had happened to him. His skin and demeanor looked pale to him in a mirror, but Krasgoth was never sure if that was how he was in life, or an afteraffect of something that had happened to him. Shivering near the fire, he listened to tales from the other scant patrons, hearing stories about far off travels to Silvermoon, The Barrens and other exotic names he neither recognized nor remembered from any part of his past. He mentioned that he had found himself in the Agamand Mills, and every patron, forsaken and non, took a visible step back from him. "Bad luck, that place is!" hissed a bony woman near the bar, seated at a table. "Anyone's been near that place has ended up cursed, left to wander Tirisfal for eternity!". Feeling even more alone and still not understanding what the problem is, he huddled into his blanket and gazed into the fire. He leaned nearer but felt no actual warmth - Only a certain curiosity came over him as he watched the dancing of the flames. Eventually, confused and delirious, he was able to sleep, nestled up in the corner of the inn basement, being unable to pay even for a room. His dreams were tormented, dark visions of evils snatching at his very soul, and several times in the night he woke, sweat mingling with the raindrops on his cold skin. Slumber eventually reclaimed him, only to bring the disturbing images back into the forefront of his mind. Thunder boomed outside as he shivered himself to sleep, the few hours of rest he got ruined by his aimless tossing and turning.

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