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Comentario de Wilus

Es un cuervo blanco, y una referencia a un poema de Edgar Allan Poe. Se encuentra en uno de los cementarios de Drustvar, las coordenadas son

Existe una opera rock acerca de este poema, que no tiene desperdicio.

Comentario de Lothar

El cuervo

I
En una noche pavorosa, inquieto
releía un vetusto mamotreto
cuando creí escuchar
un extraño ruido, de repente
como si alguien tocase suavemente
a mi puerta: «Visita impertinente
es, dije y nada más » .

II
¡Ah! me acuerdo muy bien; era en invierno
e impaciente medía el tiempo eterno
cansado de buscar
en los libros la calma bienhechora
al dolor de mi muerta Leonora
que habita con los ángeles ahora
¡para siempre jamás!

III
Sentí el sedeño y crujidor y elástico
rozar de las cortinas, un fantástico
terror, como jamás
sentido había y quise aquel ruido
explicando, mi espíritu oprimido
calmar por fin: «Un viajero perdido
es, dije y nada más ».

IV
Ya sintiendo más calma: «Caballero
exclamé, o dama, suplicaros quiero
os sirváis excusar
mas mi atención no estaba bien despierta
y fue vuestra llamada tan incierta…»
Abrí entonces de par en par la puerta:
tinieblas nada más.

V
Miro al espacio, exploro la tiniebla
y siento entonces que mi mente puebla
turba de ideas cual
ningún otro mortal las tuvo antes
y escucho con oídos anhelantes
«Leonora » unas voces susurrantes
murmurar nada más.

VI
Vuelvo a mi estancia con pavor secreto
y a escuchar torno pálido e inquieto
más fuerte golpear;
«algo, me digo, toca en mi ventana,
comprender quiero la señal arcana
y calmar esta angustia sobrehumana »:
¡el viento y nada más!

VII
Y la ventana abrí: revolcando
vi entonces un cuervo venerando
como ave de otra edad;
sin mayor ceremonia entró en mis salas
con gesto señorial y negras alas
y sobre un busto, en el dintel, de Palas
posóse y nada más.

VIII
Miro al pájaro negro, sonriente
ante su grave y serio continente
y le comienzo a hablar,
no sin un dejo de intención irónica:
«Oh cuervo, oh venerable ave anacrónica,
¿cuál es tu nombre en la región plutónica? »
Dijo el cuervo: «Jamás ».

IX
En este caso al par grotesco y raro
maravilléme al escuchar tan claro
tal nombre pronunciar
y debo confesar que sentí susto
pues ante nadie, creo, tuvo el gusto
de un cuervo ver, posado sobre un busto
con tal nombre: «Jamás ».

X
Cual si hubiese vertido en ese acento
el alma, calló el ave y ni un momento
las plumas movió ya,
«otros de mí han huido y se me alcanza
que él partirá mañana sin tardanza
como me ha abandonado la esperanza »;
dijo el cuervo: «¡Jamás! »

XI
Una respuesta al escuchar tan neta
me dije, no sin inquietud secreta,
«Es esto nada más.
Cuanto aprendió de un amo infortunado,
a quien tenaz ha perseguido el hado
y por solo estribillo ha conservado
¡ese jamás, jamás! »

XII
Rodé mi asiento hasta quedar enfrente
de la puerta, del busto y del vidente
cuervo y entonces ya
reclinado en la blanda sedería
en ensueños fantásticos me hundía,
pensando siempre que decir querría
aquel jamás, jamás.

XIII
Largo tiempo quedéme así en reposo
aquel extraño pájaro ominoso
mirando sin cesar,
ocupaba el diván de terciopelo
do juntos nos sentamos y en mi duelo
pensaba que Ella, nunca en este suelo
lo ocuparía más.

XIV
Entonces parecióme el aire denso
con el aroma de quemado incienso
de un invisible altar;
y escucho voces repetir fervientes:
«Olvida a Leonor, bebe el nepenthes
bebe el olvido en sus letales fuentes »;
dijo el cuervo: «¡Jamás! »

XV
«Profeta, dije, augur de otras edades
que arrojaron las negras tempestades
aquí para mi mal,
huésped de esta morada de tristura,
dí, fosco engendro de la noche oscura,
si un bálsamo habrá al fin a mi amargura »:
dijo el cuervo: «¡Jamás! »

XVI
«Profeta, dije, o diablo, infausto cuervo
por Dios, por mí, por mi dolor acerbo,
por tu poder fatal
dime si alguna vez a Leonora
volveré a ver en la eternal aurora
donde feliz con los querubes mora »;
dijo el cuervo: «¡Jamás! »

XVII
«Sea tal palabra la postrera
retorna a la plutónica rivera,»
grité: «¡No vuelvas más,
no dejes ni una huella, ni una pluma
y mi espíritu envuelto en densa bruma
libra por fin el peso que le abruma! »
dijo el cuervo: «¡Jamás! »

XVIII
Y el cuervo inmóvil, fúnebre y adusto
sigue siempre de Palas sobre el busto
y bajo mi fanal,
proyecta mancha lúgubre en la alfombra
y su mirada de demonio asombra…
¡Ay! ¿Mi alma enlutada de su sombra
se librará? ¡Jamás!

Comentarios

Comentario de priestguy

Nevermore is perched on a tombstone in the Barrowknoll Cemetery in Drustvar. It drops Guantes de pluma de cuervo escaldada.

TomTom coordinates:

/way Drustvar 59.9 45.0 Nevermore

Comentario de varenne

Nevermore rare is located in Drustvar Barrowknoll Cemetery on Kul Tiras isle.
You can find it sitting on a tombstone in ther north part of cemetery.

For TomTom users
/way Drustvar 59.87 44.78 Nevermore

Nevermore location video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toBBOJqZ9g0

Drustvar rares achievement: Aventurero de Drustvar

Comentario de Boxofbeer

Nunca más rare mob can be found in Drustvar.

Location: 60.0 46.0
Part of: Aventurero de Drustvar
World Quest: Nunca más
Rare drop: Guantes de pluma de cuervo escaldada

Nevermore is located at Barrowknoll Cemenery, use to north entrance.
The rare is usually sitting on a tombstone.

TomTom:
/way Drustvar 60.0 46.0 Nevermore spot

Nunca más - www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGAS3W9lWNA

Comentario de OridanIX

This is currently the only white raven mob in the BfA beta, which would make it the only source of a white raven pet for hunters.

Comentario de Willam590

What level is this mob?

Comentario de Jeancey

This raven is a nice reference to Edgar Allen Poe's poem of that name :)

Comentario de KillerMoyashi13

This is a lovely albino raven! Looks nice! However...

White ravens actually do exist in the wild, not just albino ones! However, black ravens specifically avoid white ravens and steal things like food from them to try to make them die out. White ravens are outcasts in the wild, and therefore, only very rarely seen.

Just a little fun fact I wanted to share. :)

Comentario de cloud113

Are the fleshy coloured feathers a bug?

Comentario de 1844144

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Comentario de moxaz

as a hunters pet he has more dmg 100 % info . check it

Comentario de zharshoul

Among other things, possibly a reference to the nevermore grimms from the cartoon/anime RWBY

Comentario de Persisia

Entertainingly, unless it's a bug, Nevermore keeps its name when tamed. Most other pets default to a shared name, such as Dog.

Comentario de SignalWarden

Quick info for hunters: Nunca más is a carrion bird not a bird of prey so it's a ferocity pet. This bird does retain its name. The respawn is super fast (almost instant). This is a unique model as there are no other tameable white ravens.

Nunca más

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