Z6 a5 boss


Kalaxia the Far-Seer is the fifth boss encounter for Bludheim (Area: Frost Wyrm Camp). As with all bosses, Kalaxia the Far-Seer can also be battled in a raid with 4 available levels: Normal, Hard, Legendary and Nightmare.


Name Att Def AV Per Ability Obtained
Essence kalaxia Kalaxia the Far-Seer Essence Used to summon Kalaxia the Far-Seer (Raid) Kalaxia the Far-Seer quest boss
Citadel book runesmith Runesmith Book This book allows you to construct the Runesmith in your Citadel, and can be obtained by defeating Kalaxia the Far-Seer (quest version) on Normal difficulty. Quest: N Kalaxia
Citadel scroll alchemist Alchemist Scroll 1 This scroll allows you to construct additional items from the Alchemist in your Citadel. Quest: N Kalaxia
Shield frostwyrmchieftain Frost Wyrm Chieftain's Shield 60 120 90 60 Increases Energy by 7 Nightmare Kalaxia quest boss
Chest bjorn Hrolf's Scale Cuirass 55 55 69 50 Increases Energy by 3 Quest boss - Kalaxia
Kalaxia eye Kalaxia's Eye Used to craft Solus2 Quest Boss - Kalaxia
Manual 4 What Ya Gonna Do? Used as an ingredient to craft Mestr Rekkr Essence and Hauberk of Gold Kalaxia quest boss
Manual 5 Stylin' and Profilin' Used as an ingredient to craft Mestr Rekkr Essence and Hauberk of Gold Kalaxia quest boss


Enter battle

Solus becomes steady, and his body stops trembling. You’re about to take your hand from his neck, when the world shifts around you.

You’re surrounded by darkness, you and Solus alone in an infinite blackness. Then the disorientation falls away as remembrance comes. It’s like when you were in Burden’s Rest, and placed your hand on the surface of the glowing pink globe… Solus’ egg.

Two cyan orbs appear in front of you, burning against the blackness. A draconic head emerges from the void. So familiar… But this time you feel no scaly claws grasping at your mind, no unsettling sense as of someone attempting to root around inside your brain like a burrowing worm. Somehow you know that Solus has brought you here, where the drakes’ minds meet.

A series of images flashes before your eyes. There are two dragons, one black, one blue. They’re in a vast cavern, roof and floor studied with huge stalagmites and stalactites, like haphazard rows of teeth. They’re coupling, the black drake pinning the blue one down beneath its mass, its wings sweeping at the air.

Then the image shifts, and you see an egg – the product of their union. It’s being led away amongst a horde of monstrous creatures. On one side of it towers an ogre, on the other side a grotesque creature with the lower body of a scorpion.

Now you’re gazing at a pink wall… This image is different. Before it was as if you hovered over the scenes you witnessed, a disembodied entity. Now you’re seeing the world as if through another’s eyes. No, not just another’s… the eyes of others. Solus’ eyes, but the eyes of Erebus and Kalaxia as well. A section of the pink shell falls away, and you see… You. You as you were back then, a mere farmhand who knew nothing of the world. And in that moment, as your gaze meets that of your past self, the image feels subtly different, though it looks exactly the same. The other eyes are gone. Erebus and Kalaxia have lost their connection with the whelp they spawned. And something else has rushed in to replace it, like water filling a vessel.

The next images are indistinct, mere explosions of sound and color. Then a more tangible one appears from within that seething ocean of sensation. You see a blue dragon standing in the snow. Men in the garb of Nordent are kneeling before it. But the dragon is blurry… indistinct, though the rest of the image is crisp and clear. The image flits away, replaced by another. The dragon – still indistinct, still blurry – is flying above a battlefield, as human armies fight below. Nords bearing the Frost Wyrm emblem upon their shields are clashing with fighters dressed in the martial garb of the southern lands. The insignias on the shields and tabards of the southerners are strange to you, unfamiliar…

The images vanish, and blackness surrounds you once more. But the dragon is still there, glaring at you through its cyan eyes.

“A blind spot… Yes…” The dragon’s voice is soft, feminine. Almost human, though with a strange cadence that makes it seem unnatural. “In all my visions, you’ve been hidden from me.”

Again you understand, the knowledge flowing into your brain through the inscrutable paths of this melding of minds. The mother has the gift of prophecy, to see beyond the sight of normal beings. The visions you saw, that you seemed to float above, were those she received with her inner eye, long before they came to fruition. It was this gift that took hold of Solus as he lay within the egg, and allowed Erebus to make telepathic contact with his minions through its shell.

But when the egg broke, Solus disappeared from her sight. It was as if a globe of invisibility expanded around him. And you were caught within it, brought within its aegis because of the connection the two of you share.

You feel the cyan gaze sweeping across you, looking not at your body, nor even into your mind, but far beyond. And they grow wide, as if in surprise, amazement… terror?

“Your blood…” she says. Her eyes seem glazed over, and her voice now has a flat, detached, trance-like quality to it. It’s the voice of a prophetess. “Destiny flows through your blood, and your blood flows through destiny like a wound. Your future is… Murky, lost in shadows. But I see beyond your little mortal life. I see a time when your descendant will come to the shores of West Kruna as an enemy, a conqueror – ready to wage war on this land you hold so dear.

And… yes, you bloodline will be there millennia from now, when this world shatters, its shards hurled into the void. But your progeny will live on… I see your blood upon another world, trickling through its history. Its droplets will help shape that world, hidden within the veins of great men and women who will know nothing of Tor’gyyl, or of you.

I see further still, to a time when your blood will flow across the void, blazing beneath a thousand burning suns.”

The glazed look vanishes from the dragon’s eyes, and she focuses on you as if seeing you for the first time. Then she screams.

You’re back in the Nord camp. There’s the sound of running feet behind you, as your companions come to your side. Before you the dragon is screeching, raising her head to the sky as if cursing the gods themselves. The Frost Wyrm Nords are backing away, fearful looks upon their pale faces.

After a long, drawn out wail, Kalaxia lowers her head, and glares at you.

“No! Destiny is on my side – mine! The fates showed it to me… I lead these wretched Nords to victory!”

But there’s fear in her voice. She’s seen a destiny greater than her own, one which threatens to swallow her up.

She gives one final shriek. Then she lunges towards you, her eyes seething with both rage and madness.


The Frost Wyrm Nords are approaching from around the camp, forming a wide circle around you, your companions, and Kalaxia's corpse.

Your companions turn to face them, ready to fight. But the Frost Wyrms don't attack, and their weapons in shake uncertain hands. As your two forces stand there, staring at each other in silence, Solus takes to the air. With a flap of his wings, he lands atop his mother's body. There he perches, his deep eyes gazing around at the nords.

There are hundreds of soft thuds, as weapons are dropped into the snow. All around you the Nords are dropping to one knee, their heads bowed in reverence.

"What do we do?" asks Roland.

"They have to answer for that they did to my people," Aesa replies. "They must pay that dept with their lives."

"You would kill them in cold blood?" Marcus asks.

"If you spare them, the people of Norden will despise you. There must be justice."

You pull Aesa aside, and exchange words. At last she nods, accepting what you've put to her. Then you climb onto the dragon's body, scrambling up to stand alongside Solus.

Solus looks up at you, and nuzzles your hand. All around the camp the Nords are gazing up in expectation, knowing that you speak for the blue dragon.

"The false one is dead," you say. As outside the walls of Hralborg, Medea's harp sings out, nurturing your words, flitting across each one like caressing fingers. "And now you must answer for the crimes you committed at her behest. Only then can your tribe's destiny ever come to pass."

The kneeling Nords stare at you with cold fatalism. Not a single voice is raised against you. Whatever you decree, you know they will obey without question.

"Only blood can wash away your sins. Know that all your lives are forfeit, and must be given to redeem the Frost Wyrm Clan. Do this, and your towns and villages will be spared. Your children will live, and continue the name of your clan. No vengeance will be allowed to fall upon them."

There's a murmur from around the camp. It's one of satisfaction. They've accepted their deaths with the pragmatism of this harsh land, and they take solace in the knowledge that their families, their clan will survive them - as Aesa told you they would.

"Look," you say gesturing towards the horizon. The Nords turn and see the white-furred beastmen who approach across the snow. It's a large force, though perhaps not equal in number to the warriors of the Frost Wyrm clan who are assembled there. "There lies your redemption. Go, and find honorable deaths in battle."

Hundreds of weapons are lifted from the snow, and a war cry goes up around the camp, a thundering roar that makes the distant beastmen stop in their tracks. Then the Nords of the Frost Wyrm clan charge.


Those who survive the battle come to you once the beastmen are slaughtered, to receive your instructions. You order them to head south, where the war still rages. There they are to find their deaths, if not in battle then in the next. You tell them that if any of their warriors survive the war, they may return home - their sins cleansed. But you don't expect that to happen. The berserk is in their eyes, the desperate desire to give their lives gloriously. Men like that seldom live for long.

Aesa comes to your side, and watches them walk away across the snows.

"You did well, southlander."

"If you say so." You turn to her, and see that her face is soft, much of the coldness gone from it. "What will you do now?"

"There's little for me here, with my kin and clan dead. Perhaps I'll travel with you," she muses. "The Frost Wyrms are vanquished, but the dragons remain. My people's blood is on their claws, as surely as it was on the Frost Wyrm's hands."

She walks off towards where your companions and your Nord allies are sharing a meal by the campfires, without waiting for a reply.

Solus is nearby, sitting in the snow. He's staring in the direction of the disappearing warriors, who now head in search of their doom. You do to the dragon's side, and see there's a faraway look in his orange eyes. In spite of the difference of color, they somehow remind you of his mother's. You squat down beside him.

Solus sighs, a soft shudder ripping through his body, and the glazed look vanishes from his eyes.

"What did you see?" you ask, reaching out and stroking his neck.

"Destiny," he replies. And you fall back into the snow in surprise.