Yeah, that place is cold.
So very, very cold.
After running around in Frost Presence with that Chill of the Throne thing for the past five months, Rachkalos needs a holiday. Instead of getting beaten up and drinking the blood of his enemies, he's fishing and drinking mojitos.
The peace and tranquility won't last long... never does; sooner or later, some ugly, plague spraying, blood sucking, soul freezing freak is going to have to have the rules read to them... again.
And Rach is just the Death Knight for the job.
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