None, but you must be level 55 and listen to Eva's story, which is the underlying basis for the quest.
Quest text Edit
Krastinov is responsible for the deaths of thousands. He must be punished, justice must be meted out.
Find him and exact upon him the agony he has inflicted upon countless innocents. Once he is destroyed, burn our remains. Turn them to ashes, <name>.
The Butcher must be stopped!
I can feel my spirit healing, <name>. You have done my husband and I a great service, but I am certain there is more to be done.
Hello young <Master/Mistress>. I am Eva Sarkhoff and this is my husband, Lucien. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Certainly, <sir/miss>. We were once servants of the house Barov: What is now known as the Scholomance. I was the head maid and Lucien was Master Barov’s butler. We had worked for the Barovs for decades, until . . . <Eva Weeps>
Oh it’s just so horrible <sir/miss>. The house Barov was once full of life . . . full of splendor. The manor was the Barov’s primary residence amidst their far reaching empire. Lucien noticed that as the days progressed the Barovs became depressed. Despondent. Paranoia and rage often overcame the master and misses. At night, we could hear the Barovs arguing in their chambers. From what we understood, their greed had “broken the dam,” so to speak.
We suspect that in order to preserve their fortune and hold of the land — well past their lifespan — the Barovs made a deal with a powerful human mage named Kel'Thuzad. <Eva shudders.> From this deal sprang the school of necromancy: A place which bore the Cult of the Damned and would become their capital. As each week passed, the house Barov became more and more decrepit . . . twisted. Dark beings began to take residence in the various wings of the house. Upkeep became impossible . . . and disgusting.
And go where? It was all that we knew: all that we had known and all that we would ever know. Eventually, we lost contact with the Barovs and ultimately, we were separated from the household. We knew not what happened to the other servants, only that there were screams. Tortured screams. Knowing that we had nowhere to go Lucien and I were forced to hide in our quarters. During the day, when the school was relatively quiet, Lucien would sneak out to scrounge up food and drink.
We did this for about 6 months and watched as the house went through horrifying changes. Foul monsters roamed through the manor at will. Dark cultists populated every inch with various paraphernalia relating to rituals and sacrifices. We knew that we could not hide much longer. As expected we were found and captured. They stripped us of all our clothes and laid us out inside a circle of blood. We sat there for days, naked and terrified.
Restraints? There are things in this world far more restraining than bars and shackles, young <master/mistress>. The undead surrounded us, constantly tormenting us with horrifying acts of depravity. Finally, he came. He introduced himself as Doctor Theolen Krastinov. We came to know him as the Butcher.
We finally understood what the screams were from. The Butcher exposed us to pain that we did not know existed. He used us in countless experiments to devise a plague. The days turned to weeks. We would have died on that first day had it not been for that cruel bastard keeping us alive through magical means.
The Butcher would speak of “the blood of innocents", and his dark master, . Of how he must appease his master. Finally, the beast was done with his experiments. We had been drained of all life. Our spirits shattered. The sweet embrace of death was upon us and we welcomed it with open arms. But in his infinite cruelty, the Butcher revived us from death’s door. We were to be kept alive and thrown to his ravenous ghouls. He laughed as he watched the fiends devour our flesh.
We feel nothing. Our souls remain here, in limbo. We are unable to leave until our remains are found and spirits laid to rest.
Krastinov is responsible for the death of thousands. He must be punished, justice must be meted out. Find him and exact upon him the agony he has inflicted on countless innocents. Once he is destroyed, burn our remains. Turn them to ashes, <name>.