|Master Siegesmith Corvus|
|Location||Acherus: The Ebon Hold, Eastern Plaguelands|
- These Death Knights truely know no honor. First, they take my greatest arms and armor, crafted with care, forged with the Lich King's blessing. Then they wander off to who knows where and come back dressed like Goblins, mumbling something about pawning off their armor for a few coppers! Pathetic!
- Fix my armor, Corvus! My blade is rusty, Corvus! ... when will these damned mortals ever learn to care for themselves?
- First, he gives away all of my precious Saronite [sic], then he demands I begin crafting Runeblades of even greater power! Pah!
- What is this nonsense about the Light? I have weapons and armor to make!
- I may not have any mindless servants, but at least I can see a quality blade made from time to time.
- There is work to be done here, but do you see anyone jumping to help me? No! Wretches, all of them!
Likely named after the Latin word for crow, an animal associated with bringing death or ill fortune in some cultures.