“Who is the One King Under the Sea?”
“Dagon of course,” it said. Its words echoed around the dark and dank room. The silence that its pronouncement left was only pierced by the skittering and squirming of the centipedes on all the floors and walls.
“Who is Dagon?” asked the blood elf. His name was Al, short for something but he won’t say what, and he was my adventuring companion.
There were four of us adventurers here. Al was a sneaky type with a rapier and a mace. He had the best mind for dungeoneering in the group and was our de facto leader and face. Tubs was our muscle. He was an enormous tauren with an even more enormous maul that I had seen him use to deadly effect. He was laconic and an all-around bad ass mother fucker that I was more than happy to be standing behind instead of in front of. Then there was Booty, a goblin with a bow. He often found himself on the receiving end of hits and took them like a champ, but he also never stopped giving his from a long way away. Lastly there was me, a pandaren historian who’s oft misremembered facts inspired the party.
We had been traveling across the ocean from Orgimmar to Lordaeron, when our airship had come under attack by sky pirates. We fought off the two small ships that had attacked us and killed the majority of the boarding party, but our ship had been damaged and we had to crash land on one of the shattered islands. It was a small island with a large volcano in the center, a village of what we assume to be murlocs, and an old naga temple that we were now in.
The temple sat in a swampy depression in the jungle. There were no trees growing in this swamp and the back half of the temple had sunk beneath it. The front room of the temple had a large Naga statue and an even larger crocodile that had attempted to have Al for dinner. He had grabbed Al but luckily we turned his death roll into death throes before Al had the chance to die.
We took some stairs out of the front room to the room we were in now. It was a smaller room, dark and dank with stone walls and centipedes crawling all about. Inlaid into the floor were three circles of gold that none of the centipedes entered. When Tubs attempted to enter the middle one, a voice had told him to please stop and a shadowy figure materialized within it.
It was mostly black and smoke with only its demonic head and bat wings clearly recognizable. It told us that its name was Queryzias and that it would trade what knowledge it had for its freedom.
“Dagon is a fiend not of this world. He is a great and powerful being who comes from another dimension that exists outside of time. He has made this world his own and has been here for longer than recorded history. He saw from his lair at the bottom of the sea when Sargeras fell and the Eternity Well was sundered. He is ancient. He has always been. He will always be. Dagon and his queen Hydra command an army of reptilian creatures that lurk and scheme in secluded hollows all across the ocean floor.
“When Dagon come from the foul place of his creation, he did not come alone. Dagon came with another. Dagon came with HIM. HE was a creature of pure madness and hate. Where Dagon wished to make this place his home, HE sought nothing else than the summary destruction of all the living and future creatures of Azeroth. Dagon wanted to shape this place in his image and rule it as a great and dire king. HE rampaged across the land destroying any and all of the early denizens of this world.
“They quickly became enemies and fought the first great war that Azeroth had ever seen. In the end, the armies of Dagon prevailed over HIM, slaying HIM, but they could not destroy HIM. They took HIS vile corpse and locked HIM into a tomb. They sealed with the words:
That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.
“Now HE is there. In HIS tomb he waits, dreaming.”