Deep down under the ravaged landscape of the surface word, in a cavernous hall streaked with veins of a bluish silver, on top of a titanic throne of dark volcanic stone, sat a massive figure, a dragon. But not any dragon, this was a dragon of gargantuan proportions, with a skin black as the blackest night, scarred by the magmatic inner forces of the beast, held together perhaps only by the adamantine plates fastened to it's back and it's iron will, strengthened by madness, a madness rivaling even those depraved individuals who sit gibbering in the darkest dungeons of the most infamous of asylums on Azeroth.