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First, i think it largely depends on the tank and rest of groupmates’ playing andommunation style. for that, i now no longer do instaes w PuGs. only with rl andor WoW friends. Sond, being a healer myself, this is what I use most: PoM on tank before fight, then PoM on another melee dps 1 or 2 sonds into the flght; Spamming Flash Heal on tank due to shortasting time; startasting Greater Heal on tank when he’s about 70% (so afterasting time he’d be around 50-60%). Iurrently have SP 1200 unbuffed, and always forget to buff myself Inner Fire (=_=, forgetful, i know, lol). However my Greater Heal has been averaging 10K most of the time now, so it works quite well. When everyone seems to be getting hurt, I useoH oe; and always try to remember throwing PoM on tank or melee DPS everyhae I get, that helps a lot. With Surge of Lightrit (free instant Flash Heal), I toss it on whoever seems to be getting hurt, or it’s very helpful to be tossed around when everyone must be running around for some boss fights. I tend to over-use PoM, sie my talent points give me 7 sooldown instead of 10. – Whh, is my new dision of talent point arrangement after having the 6 sooldown onoH. No, I never did spamoH (and I’m not level 80 yet, 78 atm), but to me, it’s helpful to have 2 instant spells with similarooldown time for alternate use when moving around. After I have more SP from gear, I believeoH will be used when more than 2 groupmates have 70% health to top them off fast, followed byasting Prayer of Healing (longasting time but larger heals). I also have Guardian Spirit talent point atm, finding it quite helpful on whoever gets pretty low – preferably dps, I put that on them, throw aroundoH oe, and bk on spamming Flash Heal at tank.

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What Helluna said, basally. I think I yet have to meet a PUG that Ian’t keep alive sie WOTLK, but some are remarkably harder than others. On point always stands though: If you have more than 1400 spellpower and spamming greater heal on the tank is NOT enough to keep him up, he is undergeared, period. The only three eeptions to this are when you’re fighting an enraged boss, if your tank has some kind of healing debuff or if you are 000 or shadow spced.Thank you for all your support. I will try and link my armory after I get home from work. If it is the pug and tanks than I will keep trying. It just get so frustrating at times. Helluna you areorrt, that was the fight that they dropped me in. After 3 wes they dided toall it a night.

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Some of the heros may be a bad group. I haven’t done Nexus yet as one of the more knowledgeable guys in our guild group said we shouldn’t attempt it as we didn’t have anyone whoouldC and would we a lot therefore Iannot speak on this although maybe that was your problem? I healed UK as my first hero and we had I think 3 wes but we finished it. If no one in the group has really done it before you are headed for weity in any hero. Also you don’t mention how many attempts you had on things. You may find if no one knows the fights and you are giving up after just 1 or 2 wes this is why. Sometimes itan take a few attempts to get something down when you are all new but mot PUGS don’t last that long. I healed VH my first time up until the last boss where we wed due to line of sight but again this is hard. Our tank and dps did know the fight but I would never have been able to do it without them helping me out telling me what to expt. I am di spced so Ian spam penae whh has a fasterast time but I was prettyonsistantly healing in VH. I also have about 1800SP self buffed (or did at this point) and 15K mana but I rely on rapture for mana regen rather than spirit.

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The earliest known trolls belonged to the Zandalar tribe, from which all other trolls are descended. On the whole, the Zandalari valued knowledge above all else, but a significant portion of the tribe hungered for conquest instead. These disaffected trolls eventually departed to form tribes of their own. As time went on, what remained of the Zandalar tribe came to be regarded as an overarching priest caste for all trolls. The Zandalari worked tirelessly to record and preserve troll history and traditions, and these wise trolls acted to further the goals of troll society as a whole. Greatly respected by all other trolls, the Zandalari nevertheless remained apart from the day-to-day politics of their people. About 16,000 years ago, trolls lorded over much of ancient Kalimdor, which was the only continent on Azeroth at the time. Out of the tribes that had split off from the Zandalari, two troll empires had emerged: the Gurubashi empire of the southeastern jungles and the Amani empire of the middle forestlands. Several smaller troll tribes were also driven out of civilized lands and into the far north, where they settled in the region that would later be known as Northrend. These tribes founded a small nation known as Zul’Drak, but this kingdom never achieved the size or prosperity of the southern empires. Azj’Aqir The Gurubashi and Amani empires had little love for one another, but their conflict rarely escalated into war. At the time, their greatest common enemy was a third empire: the civilization of Azj’Aqir. The aqir were intelligent insectoids who ruled the lands of the far west. These clever insectoids were greatly expansionistic and incredibly evil. The aqir were obsessed with eradicating all non-insect life from the fields of Kalimdor. The trolls fought the aqir for thousands of years, but never succeeded in winning a true victory. Eventually, due to the trolls’ persistence, the aqiri kingdom split in half. Its citizens fled to separate colonies in the far northern and southern regions of the continent. Two aqiri city-states emerged: Azjol-Nerub in the northern wastes, and Ahn’Qiraj in the southern desert. Although the trolls suspected that there were other aqiri colonies beneath Kalimdor, their existence was never verified. With the insectoids driven into exile, the two troll empires returned to business as usual. Neither civilization expanded much farther than its original boundaries.

Relentless, the wraiths did not permit him to stop. Beyond humiliation, he abandoned his staff and began to crawl. The necromancer’s malevolence beat down upon him and pressed him deeper into the snow. Kel’Thuzad was shaking and whimpering, and o gods, he’d been wrong–stupidly, colossally wrong. This wasn’t fatigue. It was stark terror. You will never catch me unaware, for I do not sleep, and as you should have already guessed, I can read your thoughts as easily as you might read a book. Nor can you hope to defeat me. Your puny mind is incapable of handling the energies I manipulate on a whim. Kel’Thuzad had long since torn his robes, and his leggings were useless against the icy rock of the rough-hewn stairs. His hands and knees left bloody tracks behind him as he struggled up the last spiral. The throne radiated bone-chilling cold, and mist surrounded it. A throne not of crystal, but of ice. Immortality can be a great boon. It can also be agony the likes of which you have not yet begun to fathom. Defy me, and I will teach you what I have learned of pain. You will beg for death. He came within a few feet of the throne and could go no farther, pinned helplessly beneath the thing’s overwhelming aura of inhuman might and hatred. An unseen force bore down on him and ground the side of his face into the unyielding stone. “Please,” he found himself sobbing. “Please!” Further words escaped him. Finally the pressure eased. The wraiths flitted away, but he knew better than to rise. Doubted, in any case, that he could. His eyes, however, unwillingly sought out his tormentor. A set of plate armor was seated within the throne, rather than upon it. Kel’Thuzad might have thought the armor merely black, but, blinking hard, he saw that no light at all was reflected from its surface. In fact, the longer he looked, the more it seemed to devour all light, hope, and sanity. The ornate spiked helm obviously doubled as a crown. It was set with a single blue gem and, like the rest of the armor, appeared empty. In one gauntlet, the figure clasped a massive sword whose blade had been etched with runes. Here was power. Here was despair. As my lieutenant, you will gain knowledge and magic to surpass your most ambitious dreams. But in return, living or dead, you will serve me for the rest of your days. If you betray me, I shall make you into one of my mindless ones, and you will serve me still. Serving this spectral being–this Lich King, as Kel’Thuzad was beginning to think of him–would assuredly bring Kel’Thuzad great power… and damn him for all eternity. But that knowledge came far too late. Besides, damnation had little meaning without the prospect of true death. “I am yours. I swear it,” he said hoarsely. In response, the Lich King sent him a vision of Naxxramas. Small black-robed figures stood in a broad circle outside on the glacier. Their arms, visibly wreathed in dark magic, rose and fell in time with a droning chant that eluded Kel’Thuzad’s understanding. Tremors shook the earth beneath their feet, but they kept casting. You will go forth and bear witness to my power. You will be my ambassador to the living, and assemble a group of like-minded people to further my plans. Through illusion, persuasion, sickness, and force of arms, you will establish my hold upon Azeroth. To Kel’Thuzad’s astonishment, the ice shifted and cracked, and the top of a ziggurat pierced the frozen ground. A building was being pulled up out of the soil. While the robed figures redoubled their efforts, the vast pyramid continued its impossible emergence. Chunks of dirt and ice flew outward with explosive force. Soon the entire structure had broken free of the earth’s embrace. Slowly but surely, Naxxramas rose into the air.

he wraiths teleported him back to the citadel and escorted him downward through a series of halls and rooms that Kel’Thuzad knew he wouldn’t be able to remember later. At last, deep beneath the earth, he and the wraiths entered a huge cavern whose dank chill sank into his bones. In the center of the cavern was a dizzyingly tall spire of rock. Blanketed in snow, a set of stairs spiraled up the sides of the spire. He and the wraiths began the ascent. His heart pounded with excitement and dread. When he realized that his steps were slowing, he sped up again. His resolution didn’t last long, however. It felt as if a weight was pulling at him. Evidently the long journey across Northrend had tired him more than he’d thought. Far above him, at the top of the spire, he could barely make out a large chunk of crystal. Untouched by snow, it had a faint bluish gleam. There was no sign of the necromancer. One of the wraiths used a frigid gust of wind to give him a push. His pace had been lagging again. Irritably he tugged his cloak closer and forced himself to keep climbing, though he was breathing hard. Time passed, and a blast of sleet brought him back to full awareness. He had stopped in the middle of the stairs to lean on his staff. The air was foul and suffocating; he was panting by now. “Give me a moment,” he managed. A wraith behind him said, “We cannot rest. Why should you?” Grimly Kel’Thuzad resumed the climb and hunched his shoulders against the growing exhaustion. He raised his head with an effort and saw that the glimmering crystal was drawing close. At this distance, it looked like a jagged throne with hazy dark shapes inside it. There was a palpable aura of menace about the thing. The wraiths brushed against him and startled him into crying out. Echoes of the sound reverberated throughout the cavern. He clutched at his fur cloak with clammy, trembling hands. His breath rattled in the back of his throat, and he had the sudden terrible urge to turn around and start running. “where is the master?” he asked, and his voice was high and quavering. No answer, just a storm of hail that lashed at him cruelly. He stumbled and recovered his footing. With each step, the throne looming above him felt more oppressive, pushing his head down, bending his spine. He could barely walk upright. Before long, he fell to his hands and knees. The necromancer spoke directly to Kel’Thuzad then in a voice that was no longer even remotely kind. Let this be your first lesson. I have no love for you or your people. On the contrary, I intend to scour humanity from this planet, and make no mistake: I have the power to do it.

Sickened and horrified, he teleported out of Naxxramas altogether, staggered a little distance away, and threw up. Finding a patch of unsullied snow, he scooped up handfuls and scrubbed viciously at his mouth and face. It felt as if he would never be clean again. What had he gotten himself involved in? One by one, his scattered thoughts fell into place. The necromancer was no simple academic, interested in studying a widely condemned field of magic. Nor did he plan to stop at fortifying his home against attack. He was mass-producing a fluid that converted people into zombies. Naxxramas also had an enormous stockpile of supplies, weapons, armor, training grounds…. These weren’t defensive measures. They were preparations for war. A sudden wind buffeted him with an unearthly shriek, and a group of cold wraiths coalesced in front of his eyes. He had read of them years ago in the Violet Citadel. The vague deScription of their cloudy, translucent forms had mentioned nothing of the frigid malice in their glowing eyes. One of the wraiths drifted closer and asked, “Second thoughts? As you see, your little trick will not avail you. You cannot escape the master. At any rate, what could you hope to accomplish? where would you go? More to the point, who would believe you?” Fight or flight: those would have been the heroic choices. Heroic, but pointless. His death would serve nothing. By agreeing to become the necromancer’s apprentice, Kel’Thuzad bought himself time in which to bolster his own skills. With enough training, he could surpass the necromancer or catch the man off guard. He nodded to the wraith. “Very well. Take me to him.”