(2023-12-17) The Adventure of a Lifetime (S12 E6 - White Squad Log)

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	White Squad meets Brann Bronzebeard in Ulduar, and learns some astonishing things about the history of the world.
Rating:	M for Mature 17+

Arc: Season 12

Oranna waves at Brannagen.

Brannagen greets Oranna with a hearty hello!

[Oranna]: Hullo.

Ben stoops to pet Lucky before joining the group.

Oranna waves at Ben.

[Brannagen]: Lo there, ladies! Ser.

[Ben]: Hey, y'all.

[Brannagen]: Lucky.

Lucky sits up at Bran's greeting and grins.

[Brannagen]: Wot a good boy he is!

[Ben]: How's everyone doin'? You ready for a fight? Because I got a message here.

[Oranna]: Wha' sort of fight?

[Brannagen]: I know yer all thinkin' how nice an' neat me beard looks, but before ye go praisin' me for it, ye should know that's Boomer's doin'. *He jerks a thumb toward Oranna.* Oh, sorry, ser, yer message?

Lucky is ready! Let's go

[Ben]: Mr. Bronzebeard wants us to come into Ulduar to meet him.

[Brannagen]: Into Ulduar!!!

[Aiseia]: Ulduar!

[Ben]: That's right.

Brannagen cheers!

[Aiseia]: Oh and here I am in my brand new boots.

[Brannagen]: Nice!

Oranna makes a little 'uh– er, oh' sound. "Jus'…walk on in an'… hope there's no Defense Protocol… whatever we're on now."

[Brannagen]: Dinna worry, I got yer backs.

[Ben]: He is gonna meet us near someplace called…

Ben takes a much-creased paper from within the edge of his gauntlet to check it.

[Ben]: … someplace called the Tribunal of Ages.

[Brannagen]: Ooooh.

[Auralind]: That sounds ominous.

Brannagen casts an excited look toward Ace.

[Oranna]: Think it'll have a sign or do we jus' wait for the ominous vibe ta show up?

Ben shrugs, folds the paper up again like six times, and tucks it back into his gauntlet. "Reckon we will find out."

Oranna nods at Ben.

[Ben]: Probably it will be the place Brann Bronzebeard is waitin'.

[Brannagen]: I'm ready!!

Brannagen lets forth a sharp whistle.

[Aiseia]: This is gonna be amazing!

Brannagen agrees with Aiseia.

Ben whistles for Stratus.

[Aiseia]: Lucky, up!

Lucky doesn't need to be told twice!

[Brannagen]: What an excellent boy!

[Brannagen]: Who's a good worg!

White Squad flies over their past campsite on the Terrace of the Makers and crosses the intervening chasm before Ulduar. On the other side, they alight on a walkway before a complex of ornate buildings.

Brannagen admires the view.

[Auralind]: Do we have any idea what to expect in here?

[Auralind]: Other than Brann Bronzebeard.

[Brannagen]: Expect the unexpected!

[Aiseia]: Wonders.

[Brannagen]: Also probably very large thengs.

Ben stops to consult the note again, and swings down from gryphonback.

Oranna dismounts uneasily.

[Ben]: Okay. Reckon this is the place he has got marked here.

Ben surveys the giant doorway ahead.

[Brannagen]: Whatever is in there, I will be willing to bet it is LARGE.

Thaeru'kal manifests again once Aura has landed.

Befound looks at Oranna. Why doesn't she get to just manifest where Oranna is? Why does she have to use a harness?

Oranna just sighs, shaking her head at Befound. "Yer no' a spirit animal, lass, tha's why," she mutters at the leopard.

Auralind smiles at Befound.

Brannagen slings an arm around Ace excitedly, giving her a quick little bro side-hug.

Brannagen bounces.

[Ben]: We all ready?

[Oranna]: Sure.

Brannagen bounces!!!

Brannagen exhaaaaaaaaales.

They enter the giant doorway. Almost immediately, Bran’s prediction of large thengs is borne out, as the doorway turns out literally to be a Giant Doorway: a giant ponderously patrols a hallway ahead.

Oranna looks at the Dark Rune Giant. "Well. There's the big ones."

The rest of the squad is contemplating architecture.

Ben cranes his neck and gives a low whistle.

[Ben]: Daaaaaaamn.

[Brannagen]: Look a' those…. what would ye even call ‘em?

[Brannagen]: Light art!

Oranna frowns, looking up at the shiny lights. "Wha' are those? Looks almost like constellation things."

[Ben]: The star-statues?

[Brannagen]: Star-statues! Aye.

[Ben]: An' look up! How you even paint a ceiling that high?

Ben is gawking.

[Auralind]: Star-statues?

[Oranna]: Aye. Look like… trolls, don't they?

[Aiseia]: How did they do that?

[Brannagen]: Imagine a statue, but it's a constellation somehow. *to Aura*

[Aiseia]: And who are they?

[Auralind]: I am not sure how to imagine that.

[Brannagen]: Trolls, one of 'em.

[Auralind]: Why would the Titans create statues of trolls?

[Brannagen]: Interested in em I guess? They're native ta here.

[Ben]: Watch out.

A trio of iron dwarves, also patrolling, has spotted the gang.

Ben steps back from the heap of iron dwarves.

[Ben]: Okay, they ain't any friendlier in here than outside.

[Oranna]: An' a human. With…an orb? An' a staff…

[Brannagen]: Tha's the one confuses me.

[Brannagen]: THere weren't any humans.

Ben peers up at it.

[Oranna]: Well, he doesnae ha' pointy ears an'…well, he's got a cape.

[Auralind]: Could it be a vrykul?

[Brannagen]: Dinna look like one.

[Brannagen]: Looks real human. But that's strange.

[Oranna]: Possible, aye? Hard ta judge if he's ta size, but looks… human, ta me.

[Auralind]: I thought vrykul looked like giant humans.

[Brannagen]: Ehhh…

Oranna shrugs at Auralind. Who knows?

[Brannagen]: Lot hairier an' stuff.

[Brannagen]: Different posture.

[Auralind]: Hm. I see.

[Oranna]: More wooly than humans, aye.

Brannagen makes a few quick sketches.

Ben eyes the iron golems ahead.

[Ben]: Heads up.

Oranna gasps when a construct charges her, flinching away.

Ben steps back from the fallen construct and wipes his brow. He peers into the next room and his eyes widen.

[Ben]: Uh. They got giants in here, too.

[Aiseia]: Are ye all right, Oranna?

[Brannagen]: Sorry Boomer. I can keep ye standin', but I canna keep it from hurtin' like the demons.

[Oranna]: I'm… aye, I'll be alright.

Ben glances back at Oranna anxiously. He surveys her.

Oranna brushes at her tabard a little shakily, gripping her gun tighter.

Brannagen peers at Gold Beetle searchingly.

[Ben]: We got you. White Squad is a good team, yeah?

Oranna gives Ben a small smile.

Brannagen sketches the beetle.

[Aiseia]: What if you put a frost trap in front of you? Do you think it would stop them?

[Ben]: Anyone see any sign of Mr. Bronzebeard yet?

[Auralind]: I do not, Ben.

Oranna chuckles, a little breathlessly, at Auralind.

Brannagen laughs at Auralind.

[Brannagen]: No Brann yet.

Ben eyes the Dark Rune Giant up and down.

[Ben]: Uh. I'm gonna… stop that fellow.

[Ben]: Heads up!

Ben dodges away from the falling giant.

[Brannagen]: Whoa.

[Ben]: Ain't so tough!

Ben grins, breathing hard.

[Brannagen]: Bigger they are, harder they fall.

[Ben]: Everyone okay?

Brannagen nods at Ben.

Oranna nods at Ben.

[Ben]: That was some lightning there.

Auralind nods.

Ben peers across the vast hall.

[Ben]: There is stairs over there.

[Brannagen]: Stairs always go somewhere important.

Ben surveys the patrolling dwarves for a moment.

White Squad murders some patrolling dwarves and a giant.

[Ben]: Okay, quick!

Brannagen cheers at Ben.

White Squad moves quickly through the cleared section of the hall to the stairs.

[Brannagen]: Look a' those li'l guys.

[Oranna]: Oh, wha' are…those?

[Brannagen]: Like lil crystal people.

Oranna is looking at the little guys.

[Brannagen]: Oop.

Another Rune Giant, perhaps alerted by the corpse of its colleague, has snuck up behind White Squad and attempts to smash them on the stairs.

[Brannagen]: Dinna panic!

[Brannagen]: We're all righ'

[Ben]: Damn.

Brannagen laughs at Ben.

[Ben]: He should not be able to sneak up.

Oranna is not panicked, taking sniper breaths, turning her scope to the giant behind them.

[Brannagen]: I wasna sure which way he was gonna fall…

Ben peers around the corner, back the way they came.

[Oranna]: They're no' as loud as you'd expect. I wasnae lookin' behind.

[Ben]: Ain't see no more sneakers.

[Ben]: I am gonna get that fellow out of our way before we get a look at them crystal things.

Ben points at a Raging Construct.

Brannagen nods at Ben.

Oranna nods at Ben.

They get that fellow out of their way.

Ben eyes a Crystalline Shardling up and down.

[Brannagen]: Crystal guys. Red ones and a yella one.

Auralind nods to Bran in gratitude.

[Ben]: You reckon they are friendly?

[Ben]: Hey, fellow.

Ben waves at Crystalline Shardling.

It seems not.

[Brannagen]: SEEMS NOT.

[Ben]: … nope.

[Brannagen]: Kinda fragile though.

[Oranna]: Well, it was worth a try.

[Ben]: … there is a whole quarry of 'em down here or somethin'.

[Oranna]: Oh.

[Brannagen]: Iron dwarves!

[Oranna]: They're…excavatin'?

[Oranna]: Buildin' tha' big one, or carving him out?

Ben cranes his neck and gawks again.

[Ben]: Oh shit, yeah.

[Ben]: They got a giant in the stone there.

[Brannagen]: Hard ta tell.

[Brannagen]: Doubt they'd build anythin'.

[Brannagen]: So probably breakin' him out for some reason.

[Ben]: Hey, little fellows.

Ben apparently wants to try again.

These Crystalline Shardlings are not any happier to see White Squad.

[Brannagen]: Sure wish they were friendlier.

[Brannagen]: They're kinda cute.

[Ben]: Yeah.

[Brannagen]: An' fightin' does 'em no good.

Ben looks mournfully at a little crystal corpse.

[Brannagen]: Fall apart like rock candy.

[Oranna]: We could see if they're ready ta unionize, maybe?

Brannagen laughs at Oranna.

[Oranna]: Ace?

[Auralind]: Dwarves eat rocks as candy?

[Brannagen]: No, it's crystal sugar!

[Brannagen]: I'll get ye some.

[Oranna]: Well, ach, no, aye. Sugar.

[Brannagen]: I guess ye could guess by the flavor.

[Brannagen]: Cherry's red, an' so on.

Oranna nods.

[Auralind]: So you flavor sugar. Hm.

[Brannagen]: Aye.

[Brannagen]: Ye'll love it.

[Ben]: Flavored sugar is good as hell.

Auralind looks dubious.

[Ben]: Pretty much any kind.

[Oranna]: Me da used ta put them in tea, stir them in…

[Ben]: Shit, look at all the giants they are workin' on here.

[Ben]: That is some fucken BIG ones.

[Brannagen]: What are they doin?

[Brannagen]: I bet these guys are locked down here an' the irons are breakin' em out… hopin ta use em in battle?

[Oranna]: The giants don't look active, at least. No' right now anyway.

[Brannagen]: Aye.

[Ben]: Well, let's better clear these fellows out before they get 'em active.

[Brannagen]: If we can stop the irons maybe they'll stay inactive.

[Brannagen]: Jinx!

Brannagen laughs at Ben.

[Brannagen]: Great minds.

[Ben]: Oh, shit.

[Brannagen]: Whoaaa.

[Ben]: They, uh, got one workin'.

Ben eyes Krystallus up and down.

[Brannagen]: Someone's awake, aye.

[Oranna]: Well… aim fer the eyes.

Brannagen nods at Oranna.

[Oranna]: Ah, no'… I mean, no' if ye cannae reach them, I mean. Well. I'll… *She clears her throat.* I'll aim fer the eyes.

[Brannagen]: Except fer me. Castin' Light right in the eyes is a bad idea.

[Auralind]: Oranna. How high up are the eyes?

Brannagen laughs.

Oranna scopes in, measuring. She gives a good approximation of the height and of the spacing of them.

[Oranna]: They look ta be made of somethin' like the little guys here, more fragile rock.

[Brannagen]: Here's hopin'.

[Ben]: Okay, well. Here goes nothin'.

Krystallus yells: Crush….

Krystallus yells: Break…. you….

Krystallus yells: Uuuuhhhhhhhhhh……

Oranna aimed for the eyes, as the prophecy foretold.

Brannagen cheers!

[Ben]: Hah. Not so bad.

Ben peers down the pit ahead.

[Ben]: Oh. It goes back to the beginnin' of the quarry.

[Brannagen]: Aye.

Ben shows a Dane-like disregard for people's knees, and jumps.

[Aiseia]: I could jump it.

Oranna sighs.

Oranna lands with a grunt.

Brannagen patches everyone up.

[Brannagen]: Now we get to the good stuff I bet.

[Brannagen]: Stairs.

[Ben]: Careful. Dwarves on the right.

[Ben]: Iron ones I mean, not Bran.

Bran is, in fact, standing to Ben’s right.

Brannagen laughs at Ben.

[Oranna]: I dinna suppose yellin' 'BRANN' real loud will get us anywhere we want.

[Brannagen]: BRANN!

[Ben]: … yeah, with the amount of stuff in here, I ain't want to holl– er.

Ben eyes Brannagen up and down.

[Brannagen]: Oh, sorry.

[Ben]: Careful!

A half-dozen or so iron dwarves come running in response to Bran’s summons, which is rude because it seems unlikely any of them is named ‘Brann.’

[Ben]: … so less hollerin', goin' forwards.

[Brannagen]: Aye ser.

[Ben]: Look at the floor!

Ben gawks at the illuminated path.

[Brannagen]: It's got light streakin through it!

Oranna sure is looking. "What is tha?"

[Brannagen]: In fancy designs.

[Ben]: There is more star-statues, too.

[Auralind]: Do you think it means something?

Brannagen continues to describe all of it, possibly for Aura's benefit, possibly just because he likes to.

[Oranna]: Looks decorated, aye…

[Ben]: Heads up!

Another stealth giant.

Ben dodges aside at the last minute.

[Ben]: Oops.

Brannagen cackles maniacally at Ben.

[Brannagen]: Hard to tell where they're gonna crash.

Oranna sips at some water, eyeing the fallen giant warily.

[Oranna]: Wha's tha? Tha' one over there, tha' statue. Tha's like a…Tauren, isn't it?

Oranna points over yonder.

[Brannagen]: Aye!

[Ben]: Whe– oh.

[Brannagen]: A tauren star-statue.

[Brannagen]: They're also native ta here.

[Aiseia]: That one's an elf

[Ben]: An elf with a… deer?

[Oranna]: An' tha's a…sin'dorei?

[Oranna]: Or…kaldorei?

[Oranna]: I cannae tell.

[Brannagen]: Kaldorei an' a deer.

[Ben]: Kaldorei I reckon, yeah.

[Brannagen]: There weren't any sin'dorei.

[Ben]: Hard to tell when it is just done out of stars, but that is a pretty tall elf.

Oranna nods. Sure. It makes sense, probably.

[Aiseia]: Sin'dorei would have a big hookah or something.

Auralind snickers quietly at Ace's comment.

[Brannagen]: Still not sure what's up wi' that human. May not BE a human.

Brannagen eyes it.

[Oranna]: The weird thing is…where are the dwarven statues?

[Auralind]: Walking around.

[Brannagen]: Well, we aren't native ta here.

[Oranna]: Ach.

[Ben]: Careful. More golem fellows.

They dispatch the golem fellows, and approach a chamber at the hall’s end.

Ben eyes the Maiden of Grief up and down.

[Ben]: Uh.

[Ben]: That is… a unusual lady.

[Brannagen]: Like the one in Uldaman.

[Oranna]: Oh, she looks like tha', aye.

[Aiseia]: Oh, she's one of those.

[Brannagen]: But see how she looks human? Tha's why I'm not sure that one star-statue is of a human.

[Ben]: You reckon she is friendly?

[Brannagen]: No.

[Oranna]: No.

Auralind grunts.

[Ben]: … huh.

Ben decides to Science it!

Everyone else’s hypothesis bears out.

Maiden of Grief yells: You shouldn't have come… now you will die!

Maiden of Grief yells: So much lost time… that you'll never get back!

Maiden of Grief yells: I hope you all rot! I never… wanted… this.

[Ben]: … I mean then you could have not.

Brannagen peers at the Maiden of Grief searchingly.

[Brannagen]: I wonder wha' happened ta the poor lass…

Oranna frowns down at the Maiden of Grief. "A directive, maybe? Like the others?"

[Brannagen]: Nae, somethin' did not go accordin' ta plan here.

[Brannagen]: Whatever her original job was… somethin's gone real wrong.

Auralind touches the floor. "What is happening down there?"

Auralind kneels down.

[Brannagen]: Oh uh…

[Brannagen]: Giant glowin' orbs.

Ben tries to peer down but has to squint against the light from below.

[Brannagen]: Shootin' light a' each other.

[Ben]: It is like… they got globes of light like little suns? And yeah, they are sparkin' between each other.

Ben decides to stop standing over the sparky suns.

[Ben]: Y'all see any sign of Mr. Bronzebeard? I sure hope he is okay in here.

Ben looks uneasy.

[Brannagen]: I'm sure he's fine!

[Oranna]: Well, there's been no… body. So far.

[Oranna]: Tha's a good sign? Unless… it was… ah.

Oranna doesn't say unless he was crushed to paste, but it's on her face.

[Brannagen]: He's just forgotten he sent fer us most likely.

[Brannagen]: He just forgot he sent for us, found somethin' excitin' ta follow.

[Brannagen]: Tha's my guess.

[Ben]: … it is pretty excitin' in here, not gonna lie.

Auralind smirks. "Is that what would happen to you, Prospector?"

[Brannagen]: Aye, aye.

Brannagen grins sheepishly.

Ben stops to examine a glowing brazier.

[Ben]: The light comin' off that looks like it has got stars in, too.

Oranna nods at Ben.

[Brannagen]: Stars… the Well of Eternity… *he mumbles to himself.*

[Ben]: That ain't firelight. I wonder if I could…

Ben examines the walls around the braziers for a foothold, to climb up and peer in.

There is not one. Possibly fortunately for Ben.

Oranna watches nervously.

[Ben]: Damn.

[Auralind]: You believe there is a connection to the Well of Eternity?

[Brannagen]: Stars seem ta be associated with the arcane. All orderly an' such.

[Oranna]: Careful… do ye think they might be connected ta what we saw in the floor?

[Ben]: Careful. More golems.

Aiseia threatens a Dark Rune Giant with the wrath of doom.

[Ben]: … just gonna wait on that giant, now.

Oranna nods at Ben.

Oranna doesn't manage to get the ice trap down in time for a charge.

Brannagen scolds the Unrelenting Construct.

[Brannagen]: Whoooa.

[Ben]: Okay, y'all. These ones look like… bad news. Careful goin'.

[Brannagen]: That's one big orb.

[Brannagen]: It's the size of a house, Mistwalker.

[Auralind]: Is it sparking like the others?

[Brannagen]: Aye!

[Brannagen]: I imagine ye can hear it, aye?

[Brannagen]: It's as big as it sounds like it is.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Ho there! Anybody home?

[Ben]: What did I say about no holle– wait.

Oranna looks up. "Speakin' of yellin'…"

[Brannagen]: Aye!!

Oranna sighs. Maybe it's just a Bran/Brann thing.

[Ben]: Where was that from?

[Auralind]: This way.

They follow Auralind’s keen hearing and find themselves on a kind of terrace open to the mountains beyond. Brann Bronzebeard is standing there by his flying machine.

[Ben]: Uh.

[Ben]: Did he just… fly in here?

Ben eyes Brann Bronzebeard up and down.

Oranna sighs at Brann Bronzebeard.

[Brannagen]: Brann!!

Auralind growls, "I thought I heard a flying machine."

[Ben]: We could have just flied — flown in here?

[Brannagen]: Er, Mr. Bronzebeard, ser.

Brann Bronzebeard says: Cobalt! Ye made it!

Brannagen waves at Brann Bronzebeard.

Oranna eyes the edge warily.

[Brannagen]: I guess this was the entrance ye meant?

[Ben]: We come in the other way. The front way.

[Brannagen]: Ye know there's like… a door a good ways back, aye.

[Aiseia]: With all the constructs.

Brann Bronzebeard says: Ach, the front door? Bet that was an adventure!

Brannagen laughs at Brann Bronzebeard.

[Ben]: … sure was.

Oranna can't argue with that. For a definition of adventure.

Auralind sighs irritably.

Brann Bronzebeard says: Now that you’re here, ye can help me get to something called 'the Tribunal of Ages.' If my research theories about these halls are correct, information pertainin’ to the creation o’ the entire dwarven race lies within!

Brannagen cheers at Brann Bronzebeard!

[Ben]: There is a hell of a lot of titan shit in here, sir.

Brannagen fidgets excitedly.

Brann Bronzebeard nods enthusiastically. "What we're here for, lad!"

Brannagen punches Ace in the arm lightly and grins.

Aiseia grins too.

[Ben]: Okay, well. We're — y'all ready? *Ben looks around at his squad.*

[Brannagen]: Aye!!

[Aiseia]: ready!

Auralind nods firmly.

Oranna nods, Sunbeam out and ready.

[Ben]: We're ready, sir.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Time to get some answers! Let's get this show on the road!

Brann takes off at a not especially cautious sprint. The gang races after him.

Brannagen cheers at Brann Bronzebeard!

Brann leads them to a round golden chamber. Giant, sculpted faces are inset in the wall, and a gleaming console like the ones in the Inventor’s Library stands at the far side of the room.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Take a moment and relish this with me. Soon… all will be revealed. Okay then, let's do this!

That wasn’t a moment, Brann.

Brannagen cheers at Brann Bronzebeard!

Brann beelines for the console, and begins to do… something.

Ben eyes the transparent floor uneasily.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Now keep an eye out! I'll have this licked in two shakes of a–

Abedneum yells: Warning: life form pattern not recognized. Archival processing terminated. Continued interference will result in targeted response.

Ben jumps violently at the machine voice.

[Brannagen]: Uh oh.

[Aiseia]: Oh no.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Oh, that doesn't sound good. We might have a complication or two…

[Oranna]: Wha'…missiles??

Kaddrak yells: Security breach in progress. Analysis of historical archives transferred to lower-priority queue. Countermeasures engaged.

Aiseia cracks her knuckles. "Back to work, I guess."

[Ben]: Countermeasures?!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Ah, you want to play hardball, eh? That's just my game!

Brann does not ask whether it is anyone else’s game. We’re all just here to play Brann’s game, it seems.

One of the sculpted faces in the wall lights up suddenly, and sparks of static energy begin to fill the room.

[Brannagen]: That smarts!

[Auralind]: Iron dwarves!

Iron dwarves also begin to (attempt to) fill the room.

[Ben]: Careful!

[Brannagen]: THES IS NOT THE TIME!!

White Squad plants themselves in the doorway to hold off the iron dwarves.

[Brannagen]: Oops, bye now!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Couple more minutes and I'll–

Marnak yells: Threat index threshold exceeded. Celestial archive aborted. Security level heightened.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Heightened? What's the good news?

[Auralind]: Bronzebeard! Hasten your efforts!

[Brannagen]: Fer the love o'–

Brann Bronzebeard yells: So that was the problem? Now I'm makin' progress…

[Ben]: Is he, though?

Abedneum yells: Critical threat index. Void analysis diverted. Initiating sanitization protocol.

[Ben]: I ain't a real fan of this!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Hang on! Nobody's gonna' be sanitized as long as I have a say in it!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Ha! The old magic fingers finally won through! Now let's get down to–

Abedneum yells: Alert: security fail-safes deactivated. Beginning memory purge and…

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Purge? No no no no no.. where did I— Aha, this should do the trick…

[Ben]: He done it!

Abedneum yells: System online. Life form pattern recognized. Welcome, Branbronzan. Query?
Brann Bronzebeard yells: Query? What do you think I'm here for, tea and biscuits? Spill the beans already!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Tell me how the dwarves came to be, and start at the beginning!

Abedneum yells: Accessing prehistoric data… retrieved. In the beginning the earthen were created to–

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Right, right… I know the earthen were made from stone to shape the deep regions o' the world. But what about the anomalies? Matrix non-stabilizin' and what-not?

Abedneum yells: Accessing… In the early stages of it's development cycle, Azeroth suffered infection by parasitic necrophotic symbiotes.

Oranna 's attention sharpens.

[Brannagen]: Ahhh haaaaaa.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Necrowhatinthe– Speak bloody Common, will ye?

[Oranna]: A wha'?

[Auralind]: Infection?

Abedneum yells: Designation: Old Gods. Old Gods rendered all systems, including earthen, defenseless in order to facilitate assimilation. This matrix destabilization has been termed "the Curse of Flesh". Effects of destabilization increased over time.

Brannagen bounces!!!

Ben does not look like he's getting any of this but he is really into it anyway.

[Ben]: Assimilation!

[Oranna]: Like th' gnomes.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Old Gods, huh? So they zapped the earthen with this Curse of Flesh… and then what?

Kaddrak yells: Accessing… Creators arrived to extirpate symbiotic infection. Assessment revealed that Old God infestation had grown malignant. Excising parasites would result in loss of host–

Oranna sets her hands around her waist, her eyes large.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: If they killed the Old Gods, Azeroth would've been destroyed…

[Brannagen]: Ahhhhhhhh!!!

Kaddrak yells: Correct. Creators neutralized parasitic threat and contained it within the host. Forge of Wills and other systems were instituted to create new earthen. Safeguards were implemented, and protectors were appointed.

Ben 's mouth is an O.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: What protectors?

Kaddrak yells: Designations: Aesir and Vanir. Or in the common nomenclature, storm and earth giants. Sentinel Loken designated supreme. Dragon Aspects appointed to monitor evolution on Azeroth.

Brannagen sits down.

[Ben]: Sentinel…?

[Oranna]: Appointed?

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Aesir and Vanir… Okay, so the Forge o' Wills started makin' new earthen… but what happened to the old ones?

Marnak yells: Additional background is relevant to your query: following global combat between Aesir and Vanir–

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Hold everything! The Aesir and Vanir went to war? Why?

[Ben]: – yeah, why?

Marnak yells: Unknown. Data suggests that impetus for global combat originated with prime designate Loken, who neutralized all remaining Aesir and Vanir, affecting termination of conflict. Prime designate Loken then initiated stasis of several seed races, including earthen, giants and vrykul, at designated holding facilities.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: So… if I'm understandin' ye right, the original earthen eventually woke up from this stasis, and by that time the destabili-whatever had turned 'em into proper dwarves. Or at least… dwarf ancestors.

[Brannagen]: Er…

[Oranna]: "Seed" races?

Marnak yells: Essentially that is correct.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Well, now… that's a lot to digest. I'm gonna need some time to take all this in. Thank ye.

[Auralind]: That explains why the vrykul were asleep.

Abedneum yells: Acknowledged, Branbronzan. Session terminated.

[Brannagen]: Hehehe, 'Branbronzen'.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: I think it's time to see what's behind the door near the entrance. I'm going to sneak over there, nice and quiet. Meet me at the door and I'll get us in.

Brann Bronzebeard vanishes.

[Ben]: … wait where'd he go?

Brannagen rubs at his eyes.

Ben stops gawking to look around the room.

[Aiseia]: To a place near the entrance.

[Ben]: Yeah but he just… damn, he's sneaky as hell.

Oranna looks around. "…ye think tha's how he's ne'er been caught afore?"

[Brannagen]: Was about ta say.

Brannagen laughs at Oranna.

[Oranna]: I'm worryin' about him less.

[Brannagen]: Right??

[Brannagen]: Slippery fella.

[Oranna]: Like a puff of smoke in th' wind.

[Ben]: Okay so hold up though — what is a 'seed race'?

[Ben]: Is that like… the protos?

[Oranna]: I dinna know. Sounds like, aye? First ones?

[Brannagen]: Aye.

[Oranna]: I mean, tha's wha' a seed is, isn't it? Like farmin'.

[Aiseia]: Like, vyrkul?

[Ben]: An' we know vrykul is proto-humans. Okay.

[Brannagen]: An' then the Old Gods infected em an' made em flesh.

[Ben]: So there was protos and then they got — okay, yeah.

[Ben]: Cursed of flesh.

[Ben]: I mean the vrykul we run into first seemed pretty fleshy to me, I reckon it must've took a long time to happen all the way?

[Brannagen]: Well the vrykul were stone at first, too. Or somethin'.

[Brannagen]: Must still be stone ones somewhere, maybe in stasis?

[Brannagen]: Or maybe they all got fleshed.

[Ben]: Huh.

[Brannagen]: So how come we en't all… void corrupted now?

[Brannagen]: We've been carryin' on all fleshy fer ages just fine.

[Ben]: I dunno. The Light, maybe?

[Ben]: Let's… we better catch up with him, I reckon?

[Brannagen]: An' I guess the gnomes were those metal lads?

[Oranna]: Earthen, giants, and vrykul. But… 'stasis in designated holding facilities.' Wha's that supposed ta be?

[Brannagen]: Since Loken is the one put em in stasis, probably nothin' good.

[Ben]: I dunno. We know what is a ‘holding facility’? I mean, we seen anything like that?

Oranna shrugs at Ben. Who knows?

[Oranna]: No' if it means what I think it means.

[Brannagen]: This place is huge. We havena seen all of et.

[Oranna]: Unless those giants we saw them carvin' out…that was their holdin'?

[Ben]: … huh.

[Brannagen]: Oh maybe.

[Oranna]: If they were put in the earth.

[Brannagen]: Aye, an' they were asleep, basically, or deactivated…

Oranna nods at Brannagen.

[Brannagen]: Hard ta know where the line is between construct an' person a' this point.

[Ben]: … is it? Huh.

[Brannagen]: Like the earthen we met. They clearly have free will.

[Ben]: Yeah.

[Brannagen]: En't just followin a plan.

Oranna breathes evenly for a few beats.

[Brannagen]: So when did tha' happen? When did they just stop bein' like… fancy golems?

[Ben]: Heads up. More fellows.

Brannagen focuses.

Once they have dispatched the more fellows, they find Brann Bronzebeard loitering in the shadows near a sealed door.

[Ben]: Sir?

Brannagen greets Brann Bronzebeard with a hearty hello!

Brann Bronzebeard says: There y'are! I think I've just about got this door figured out. Let's open 'er up!

Brann opens ‘er up. They are again standing in some sort of Titan facility, illuminated platforms and walkways converging ahead on another console. In front of the console stands what appears to be an iron runed vrykul.

Ben gapes some more.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Don't worry! Ol' Brann's got yer back! Keep that metal monstrosity busy, and I'll see if I can't sweet talk this machine into helping ye!

[Brannagen]: Welp.

[Ben]: … shit.

[Oranna]: Sweet talk?

Oranna mutters something, scoping in on Sunbeam.

[Ben]: Okay, sir. We got him.

White Squad doggedly heads for the iron vrykul. Once they’ve got his attention, Brann Bronzebeard darts past them to the console.

Sjonnir The Ironshaper yells: Soft, vulnerable shells. Brief fragile lives. You cannot escape the curse of flesh!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: This is a wee bit trickier than before… Oh, bloody– incomin'!

From two platforms on the sides, iron dwarves and troggs begin to pour into the room, coming to the vrykul’s aid.

Brann Bronzebeard yells: What in the name o' Madoran did THAT do? Oh! Wait: I just about got it…

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Ha, that did it! Help's a-comin'! Take this, ya glowin' iron brute!

The tide of iron dwarves and troggs is replaced abruptly by a flood of earthen, and these come to the aid of White Squad in battling the vrykul.

Sjonnir The Ironshaper goes into a frenzy!

Sjonnir The Ironshaper yells: Loken will not rest… until the forge is retaken! You change… nothing!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: Loken?! That's downright bothersome… We might've neutralized the iron dwarves, but I'd lay odds there's another machine somewhere else churnin' out a whole mess o' these iron vrykul!

Brann Bronzebeard yells: I'll use the forge to make batches o' earthen to stand guard… But our greatest challenge still remains: find and stop Loken!

[Ben]: You can just… use it? To make… more Earthens?

Ben gawps at Brann.

Oranna looks uneasily up at the machine.

Brann Bronzebeard says: Aye, laddie! To help fight back Loken's iron monstrosities. Don't worry, I'll no' go mad with power!

Brann Bronzebeard laughs heartily.

Brannagen laughs at Brann Bronzebeard.

Oranna does not look convinced, but okay.

[Ben]: … okay.

[Oranna]: Jus'…ach, nevermind.

[Brannagen]: So these new ones ye make… will they just be like golems? Or will they ha' minds o' their own like the ones up on the cliff?

Oranna seems troubled by either prospect.

Brann Bronzebeard says: … the latter, I expect. We'll find out!

Oranna sighs at Brann Bronzebeard.

Brannagen looks floored.

Brann Bronzebeard says: If ye'll excuse me, Cobalts, I'm going to examine this console further, and maybe find answers to some o' these questions. But ye've helped make history today, and probably saved the world, to boot! I'm proud of all of ye.

Brannagen thanks Brann Bronzebeard.

[Oranna]: Try ta keep yer feet at least mostly on the ground, aye?

Brann Bronzebeard winks at Oranna.

Brannagen blushes on Oranna's behalf!

Oranna doesn't blush. She still seems worried about experimenting with the Earthen machine.

[Ben]: Did y'all see these, though?

Ben has gone to the edge of the walkway and is peering down into the shadows. Below them, in a cavernous space, stand row upon row of massive iron vrykul.

[Brannagen]: By the…

[Auralind]: No.

Ben is too busy staring to laugh at Aura.

[Ben]: Like, is that a stasis, down there?

[Brannagen]: Mistwalker it's… rows' an rows o'… metal vrykul.

[Brannagen]: Like a statue gallery.

[Brannagen]: Dozens, all in neat rows.

Oranna peers through her scope.

[Oranna]: Aye, these are…they've been made. No' natural formed.

[Oranna]: They're identical.

[Brannagen]: Aye.

[Brannagen]: Jus'… manufactured lookin'.

[Auralind]: Like the one we just put down?

[Ben]: Like giant fucken ones.

[Ben]: Bigger than that fellow.

[Auralind]: You do mean 'fucken' in your human colloquial sense, I hope.

[Ben]: … I mean fucken in a human colloquial sense, yeah.

Oranna blushes a little. Gosh. "An' no'…ahem. Ah, in any…positions…of…"

[Ben]: I do not reckon these fellows fuck.

[Ben]: Uh, beggin' pardon.

Oranna blushes redder.

Auralind smirks slyly.

[Ben]: You reckon they are all rusted, or just that's how they look?

[Brannagen]: Rusty maybe? Supposed to be iron, aye?

[Brannagen]: An' they been exposed to air an' not movin'.

[Ben]: So this is maybe one of the stasis? Es? Stasises? Stacies?

[Brannagen]: Standin' like soldiers a' attention. Blank an' dead eyes.

[Brannagen]: Aye, some kinda stasis.

[Brannagen]: No spark o' life in 'em.

Ben glances uneasily over his shoulder at Brann and the console.

[Ben]: Reckon we are done here for now.

Oranna looks back with Ben. "I guess… aye…? There's no' much more we can do ta… well."

[Ben]: … he will be okay, right?

Ben eyes Brann Bronzebeard up and down.

[Brannagen]: O' course.

[Ben]: Okay.

[Oranna]: I reckon. If he's no', he'll probably jus' poof.

[Oranna]: Or fly out.

[Brannagen]: Tricksy fella.

[Ben]: Well, you heard the fellow, White Squad. We have made history an' saved the world, probably.

[Oranna]: Think he knows he still has a communicator?

[Ben]: So that's good.

Ben shrugs at Oranna.

[Brannagen]: I'm not sure I've ever saved the world before.

Oranna chuckles, putting Sunbeam away.

[Brannagen]: Not knowingly anyhow.

[Ben]: Well, congrats, sir.

[Ben]: Now you have done.

Brannagen cheers at Ben.

Brannagen gives Ben a high five!

Ben grins at Bran, returning the midlevel five.

The gang heads out. On the way…

[Brannagen]: Ready ta hear my theory about tha' "human" star-statue?

[Ben]: Yeah?

Oranna works those little legs to keep up with the Talls.

[Brannagen]: So ye notice how tha' big stone lass looked human.

[Ben]: Yessir.

[Brannagen]: As do all their Keeper, Watcher, guys.

[Brannagen]: An' those three huge faces in there. Looked human.

[Brannagen]: I think tha's wha' the TITANS look like.

[Ben]: … you reckon humans look like Titans?

[Brannagen]: Aye!!

Ben looks awed. And pretty pleased, NGL.

[Brannagen]: Weird, eh?

[Brannagen]: I suspected, when I went in Uldaman, saw some o' the art on the walls. Big human guys in sandals.

Oranna looks up uneasily at the 'human?' statue.

[Ben]: Yeah. Damn.

[Brannagen]: If no', there was somethin' around when they were makin' things tha' looked just like ye.

[Oranna]: But why do a statue of themselves alongside the trolls and tauren and kaldorey?

[Brannagen]: Dunno!

Auralind murmurs, "…kaldorei."

[Brannagen]: Unless there was some other native theng tha' looked just like humans.

[Oranna]: It's like they were makin' a statue of the people already here… aye.

[Brannagen]: An' if so, they really really liked those guys.

[Brannagen]: Because half their art looks like it.

[Brannagen]: Tha's why I think it must look like them.

Ben shrugs modestly. Who doesn't really like humans?

Oranna is questioning it, but doesn't have any other answers at hand.

[Brannagen]: An' if there was some other native theng tha' looked like humans, it's all gone.

[Brannagen]: Until vrykul turned into little ones.

[Brannagen]: Which is weird, aye?

[Brannagen]: Tha' the vrykul happened to get cursed inta lookin like teeny tiny titans.

[Oranna]: Maybe. A different kind o' Curse of Flesh?

[Oranna]: Somethin' spreadin'?

[Brannagen]: It was in two stages wi' them, aye.

[Brannagen]: Ferst they turned ta flesh, then they started havin weird small babies.

[Ben]: I have got so much shit to put in my report to the Captain. Damn.

[Ben]: He said also the dragons was appointed to keep a eye on the Old Gods. So the proto-dragons was here first, and then did they get cursed of flesh too and then the titans made 'em appointments?

Oranna nods at Ben. "Somethin' odd there, aye."

[Brannagen]: I think maybe the proto dragons got… evolved inta dragons somehow? Tha' I dunno.

[Oranna]: I dinnae know much about dragon aspects enough ta even really guess what they meant.

[Ben]: I do not understand the timeline of all this happenin'. I will be honest.

[Brannagen]: It was all so long ago it's hard ta wrap the head around.

[Ben]: Yeah, I mean.

[Brannagen]: All I know is, earthen were around ten thousand years ago an' dwarves, not so much.

[Ben]: Twenty-four years is a lifetime if you are me, so. Well. Twenty-five, almost.

Oranna laughs at Ben.

[Brannagen]: I think we were all still in stasis durin' the war o' the ancients. Or our ancestors were.

[Auralind]: I admit, it seems to be on a scale even I have difficulty grasping.

[Oranna]: …wait, is tha' how old y'are, Ben?

Oranna definitely did not know that.

Brannagen focuses with difficulty on the matter currently under discussion, turning his eyes to Ben like he's a bit too bright.

[Ben]: Yes'm. Twenty-five in… two weeks.

[Brannagen]: …Huh.

[Oranna]: Oh. Tha's….yer a….young-ish. Right?

[Ben]: I am a youngish, yes'm.

Oranna nods. She's nailing this human aging thing.

[Brannagen]: I'm uh… a century an' a half or so.

[Oranna]: I'll be 95, end o' this month.

[Ben]: I mean even for humans I am youngish? Old enough to get married an' all, obviou– you ain't never.

Ben stares at Oranna.

[Oranna]: Oh, aye. Ivri told me once. O'er 18, yer a grown.

[Brannagen]: Notice he dinna blink when i say I'm a hundred an' a half.

Oranna laughs at Brannagen.

Brannagen sighs at Oranna.

[Ben]: Sir you have got a beard an' all, an' you seem — I mean.

Everyone knows beard = Old.

Brannagen laughs at Ben.

Ben looks between the two dwarves.

[Ben]: Miz Oranna seems real young. To me. But, I mean.

[Ben]: Damn. Ninety-five!

Oranna looks down at herself. "Oh, do I?"

Ben does not comment on Oranna's blouse. Not least because she's wearing armor.

Oranna is also wearing a tabard. Layers and layers.

[Brannagen]: She's jus'… tha's just her temperament, like. She's got a young energy about 'er.

[Ben]: When is your birthday?

[Oranna]: December 31st. Last day o' the year.

[Ben]: Shit, for real??!?

[Ben]: That is mine too!

Oranna gasps at Ben.

[Ben]: I mean. It is mine I made up, but. Yeah.

[Ben]: Makes it easy to keep track.

Oranna grins up at Ben.

[Brannagen]: I've no idea when mine is. Winter sometime?

Brannagen shrugs. Who knows?

[Ben]: We got the same birthday! Bran you can have December thirty-first too.

[Brannagen]: Sure!

Oranna laughs at Ben.

Brannagen laughs.

Auralind chuckles.

Ben grins.

[Brannagen]: Well, I'm gonna stay here a bit, make some sketches.

[Brannagen]: I'll just hearth out when I'm done.

[Oranna]: Be careful, Bran, aye?

[Brannagen]: O' course!

[Ben]: Okay, well. I ought to get goin' if I am gonna write a report this long.

Brannagen laughs at Ben.

[Brannagen]: Thanks fer the adventure of a lifetime, ser!

[Ben]: My hand is cramped up just thinkin'.

[Ben]: Thanks for the healin', an' all, sir.

[Ben]: Everyone done a hell of a job.

Oranna nods at Ben. "Good luck. At least there's plenty o' ice fer a sore hand, aye?"

Ben makes a face at Oranna, and then laughs.

[Brannagen]: My writin' muscles are like iron. But I dinna write common so well. Sorry.

[Ben]: Okay, well. I will see y'all around. Be safe.

Brannagen waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!

Oranna waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!