DescriptionMaraak the Impaler is the first boss encounter for Subterranean Depths (Area: Oroc Death Chamber). As with all bosses, Maraak the Impaler can also be battled in a raid with 4 available levels: Normal, Hard, Legendary and Nightmare.
|Maraak the Impaler Essence||Used to summon Maraak the Impaler (Raid)||Maraak the Impaler quest boss|
|Magma Horror Essence||Used to summon Magma Horror Raid||Subterranean Depths quest bosses|
|Moonstone Human-Oroc Treaty||Used to craft Blood and Crystal||Quest Boss - Maraak the Impaler|
|Ancient Dwarven Helm||60||70||78||70||Increases Energy by 3 and Stamina by 1||Quest boss - Maraak the Impaler|
|Research Library Book||This book allows you to construct the Research Library in your Citadel, and can be obtained by defeating Maraak the Impaler (quest version) on Normal difficulty.||Quest: N Maraak the Impaler|
Mobile Version only
|Brown Oroc Crystal||Craft x2 Stat Points||Subterranean Depths raids, quests, help requests and gifting|
|Grey Oroc Crystal||Craft x2 Stat Points||Subterranean Depths raids, quests, help requests and gifting|
|Green Oroc Crystal||Craft x2 Stat Points||Subterranean Depths raids, quests, help requests and gifting|
|Blue Oroc Crystal||Craft x2 Stat Points||Subterranean Depths raids, quests, help requests and gifting|
|Purple Oroc Crystal||Craft x2 Stat Points||Subterranean Depths raids, quests, help requests and gifting|
|Orange Oroc Crystal||Craft x2 Stat Points||Subterranean Depths raids, quests, help requests and gifting|
|A roar reminiscent two boulders repeatedly smashing against each other rages across the cavern, and the newly freed oroc storms into the melee. He pushes past several enemies, shoving them aside as if they were beneath his notice - leaving them to struggle against you and your companions.
Another roar shows that he's found his target, and as your opponent falls you take a moment to look over at your new ally - just in time to witness the spectacle. He seizes another oroc from behind, grasping him by the neck and groin, and hoists him over his head. The helpless oroc thrashes, an orange crystal sword - the same color as those on his attacker's body - flailing in his hand. But he can't break the powerful grip. The orange oroc charges towards the nearest cavern wall, and smashes his victim's head into the crystal.
Again and again the flailing oroc's head crashes against the crystal-covered wall, in his attacker's seemingly tireless arms, until the blade drops from his hands and clatters on the stone floor. The freed oroc grunts in satisfaction, turns, and heaves his victim into one of the orange pools. He grunts again as his enemy screams and thrashes in the burning magma. Then he crouches, and snatches up the orange weapon. He gazes at it for a moment, before stepping towards the nearest enemy and thrusting it clean through his back. The point erupts from his chest just inches in front of the startled face of one of your warriors.
The orocs are outnumbered, and even their powerful bodies aren't enough to overcome the weight of numbers - not against veterans whose martial skill and courage have been tempered in the fire of many battles. And now Solus is in the fray, his body even heavier and mightier than theirs. They fall back before your assault, driven towards the doorway carved in the crystal and rock, stumbling and faltering. Until a newcomer looms behind them.
The retreating enemies are pushed aside, sent staggering to the side or onto the weapons of their adversaries with callous equanimity. Filling the space before the entrance, blocking their retreat, stands an oroc with obsidian-colored flesh. Masses of blood red crystals are clustered on his body, the gods-given armor of his race. But the crystal growths on his arms are like nothing you've ever seen. They form long curved spikes, one extending past each hand like the claws of an immense beast.
The black and red oroc's stance is strange as he advances. His shoulders are hunched, his chin and forearms pressed against his chest as though he's injured. But when your comrades begin to attack, you understand his fighting style. The crystals around his upper body are like an impenetrable fortress, rebuffing or stifling each blow aimed at him. Swords rebound, their edges chipped. One blade snaps as its thrusting point meets part of his crystalline panoply. Maces crash against his body without any sign that he's so much as felt the impact.
He ignores the warriors around him, heedless of their impotent attacks. Instead he makes straight for Solus, doubtless seeing the dragon as the greatest threat. The blue drake is locked in combat with two of his minions, jaws chomping at one's neck, claws sinking into anothers throat. He's unprepared for the approaching enemy, unaware of the scarlet spike that's being drawn back in preparation of a thrust that will pierce his hide.
You dart round another oroc, dancing the tip of your blade across his eyeball in passing - smothering his nascent attack in its crib, leaving him screaming with his hand pressed against his face. Then you leap at the black and red oroc, and the thrust meant for Solus is turned to skewer you instead.
|Your enemy's spiked arms hang limp at his sides, twitching as though trying to move but lacking the strength. His legs tremble, only able to hold him up because he's stumbled back against the cavern wall, and is leaning against it. His red eyes widen, as if they can't quite believe they're witnessing the closing moments of his life.
"Let me," the freed prisoner says. His voice is less grating now, as though his mouth is becoming reacquainted with the words of the common tongue.
He steps towards the dying brute, and lunges forward - driving his entire weight behind his orange sword. the blade enters the oroc's dark flesh with a crunching noise, as though grinding and shattering something beneath the mineralized skin. The dying oroc's eyes widen even further. His jaw drops open, and rivulets of crimson pour forth. For a moment you're struck by the discovery that this oroc bleeds the same blood as a human or elf. Then the light gleams on multifaceted surfaces, and you realize that it's a stream of liquid and solid crystals.
The oroc drops into the unmistakable slump of death - his head and limbs collapsing like those of a marionette with its strings released. But he remains in place, as though floating atop his powerless legs.
"Scream for me in the black depths," his killer says. "Tell the dead to tremble at the name of Raknur, as the living do."
There's another grinding noise as the orange oroc, whose name you now assume to be Raknur, pulls his weapon loose. The enemy's carcase falls free to thud on the cavern floor, revealing a hole in the crystalline wall behind him - the same shape as the wound that slew him.
"This is the finest weapon of my clan," Raknur says, evidently understanding your surprise. "Made from the bones of a mighty hero. My ancestor. It would have been lost to my tribe, along with their greatest warrior, if it hadn't been for you."
Numerous sarcastic quips rise to your lips. But you hold them back, remembering that things are different for the orocs. Their people don't consider modesty to be a virtue.
"I don't know what brings you into the rock, draken-kasan, but you have my thanks." He seems to read the incomprehension on your face. "Dragon Rider."
"You know of me?" you ask, hoping that the smugness you feel isn't showing. From the snowy wastes of the far north to a magma-riddled underground chamber, wherever you tread you discover that your fame has preceded you. And your schoolmaster told you that you'd never achieve anything of note...
"Your war has reached us, even here. My people live far from the court of the Diamond Queen. But there are ancient pacts between our clan and hers. When she demanded that we send many of our warriors to battle the drakeni, we obeyed - though we knew our enemies would take advantage of their absence." He gestures at the dead oroc lying before him. "Maraak and his slime have been preying upon my clansmen. We were hunting one of their raiding parties when we were captured."
Raknur glances towards the nearest of the submerged cages, and a dull grinding sound comes from his jaws. He looks back at you.
"I'm grateful for your aid, draken-kasan. But you didn't come here for me. What do you seek here?"
You explain that you're in search of a lair belonging to the dragons, and describe the tunnel that you were following before your path ended with the blockage. Raknur's eyes become brighter, flickering shade of orange when you mention the carvings.
"I've seen such things. Long ago, when I hunted a criminal for many leagues through twisting tunnels that I had never trodden before. The passage where I shattered his heart had such images carved into its stone."
Solus makes a noise that reminds you of a cat's purr. It appears that he was right.
"Could you tell us how to reach it?" you ask.
"The way is long and weaving. Words alone would never set you on the right path. But you held me back from the blackest depths this day, and gave me my vengeance. So I will guide you."
You nod your acceptance of his offer, remembering in time to swallow the words of thanks that rise up your throat. Your adventures since you left Burden's Rest have brought you into contact with beings of many races. so you know that to thank an oroc for such a thing, as if there were anything remarkable about him repaying his debt, would be tantamount to an insult. But you smile, grateful to both Raknur and to the powers of fate - which seem to be working in your favor for a change, instead of hurling obstacles in your path.
"We're some distance from the rest of their caverns." Once more he indicates his dead enemies on the cavern floor. "And we must have killed all those who were alerted to your presence, as no more have come to face us. But to reach my clan's territory, the way we must tread, we will have to fight. Your band won't be able to slip past them, as I could on my own. From the moment we're first seen, we'll have to move quickly - before we're overwhelmed."
"I wouldn't worry about that," you reply, as the distant sound of pounding feet comes from the gap across the cavern.
The sound grows louder, and you catch the strains of music - a fast, frenetic tune. A smile crosses Raknur's face, revealing crystal teeth.
"You have an army with you. Good. We can smash through their forces, before they have time to send-"
He breaks off, as the first of your companions emerge through the hole in the cavern wall. Marcus and Roland are at the head of the column, followed closely by Medea and several of her elves. They run into the chamber. Then their pace begins to slow, as they take in the situation.
"It's okay," you say. "We-"
Raknur pushes past you, the sudden shove sending you staggering in surprise. You stare at him as he strides towards your companions, wondering if he's lost his senses.
"You!" he growls. He jabs an orange finger towards Roland. His other hand tightens around his sword hilt, his fingers straining so much that you expect it to break in his grasp. His body tenses, as if he's about to throw himself at the adventurer.
|Your blade clatters off the oroc's crystals again and again, unable to penetrate his defenses. And when he attacks in turn, you barely avoid being disemboweled.
You slip away through the melee, anxious to escape from that vicious foe.
"So the tales of your courage were lies, draken-kasan?" the orange oroc yells.
You're not sure what a draken-kasan is, and you don't care. You're not going near those crimson spikes until you come up with a better plan of attack.
HP & Max Damage
- Normal - 660 HP, 455 Max Damage
- Hard - 910 HP, 455 Max Damage
- Legendary - 1300 HP, 455 Max Damage
- Nightmare - 2340 HP, 455 Max Damage