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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | A Cobalt Company team accompanies the Kirin Tor and the Explorer's League into Ulduar, to free the Keepers from Old God influence, and to face the twin dangers of Yogg-Saron and Titan technology. 12k words. (I have left in the placeholders, which you are welcome to replace - wiki is a living platform! I just thought leaving them in would make it clearest who was there.) |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
The Cobalt contingent arrives to find a campaign that is already well established. They land their gryphons just outside the gigantic archway of the main entrance to Ulduar. The Explorer’s League and the Kirin Tor did not find a secret way in, finally concluding that the only way was to approach openly in full force. With Cobalt-secured assistance from the Avatar of Freya, they began the push into Ulduar.
As the team dismounts and moves into the complex, they find themselves in a basecamp of sorts, with many dwarves, mages and other allies manning the defenses and distributing supplies brought in by portal from Dalaran. A shimmering pink shield defends everyone from stray attacks.
Beyond the shield is a massive open courtyard, open under the broad sky of the Storm Peaks. It is also an active battlefield. Dwarven tanks have cleared most of the iron dwarves, constructs and runeforged giants from the central pathway, but skirmishes still break out from time to time on the perimeters.
Around the base camp, goblin engineers from K3 are seen assisting the maintenance of steam tanks and choppers that have played a part in the expedition, working alongside gnomes, dwarves and… earthen? The Explorer’s League seems to have come to an understanding with some of the earthen dwarves uncovered in Uldaman, and there in the middle of the camp is a transparent image of the Lorekeeper of Norgannon himself - projected from a floating Titan device.
Perhaps the Lorekeeper has taken an interest in the reported corruption in Ulduar, but there is no time for questions, as a familiar dwarf is headed directly toward the arriving Cobalt team. “Aye, ye’ve made it!” Brann Bronzebeard greets the team, smiling broadly.
Next to him stands a blond woman in the tabard of the Kirin Tor. She nods at the assembled Cobalt personnel in greeting. “Archmage Rhydian. I recall some of you from the effort to save Crusader Bridenbrad - it was I that opened the portal to Shattrath so that you might consult with A’dal. Today, though, I’m organizing the Kirin Tor forces against the might of Ulduar.”
“And I’m with the Explorer’s League, as ye know,” Brann winks. “We’ve right well cleared the courtyard, though their forces keep coming and coming. There was an enormous flame tank and some kind o’ giant gnomish machine defendin’ the inner gate, but we’ve won our way through. An’ the mages…”
“We’ve activated the internal teleport system,” Rhydian explains. “You won’t need to walk through the entire complex, thank goodness.” She gestures to a round carving on the ground with a glowing center. “Step here, and we’ll get you directly to the antechamber.”
“Once there, ye’ll just go on to the area where they’ve got the Keepers,” Brann supplies.
“We’ve cleared out most of the constructs, an’ the Explorer’s League has recovered Hodir. It turns out th’ corruption in this place had muddled his mind somewhat, but we were able ta bring him out of it. He’s back on our side now, so don’t worry if ye see him about. But that’s why we’ve brought you all in. If we can recover the Keepers, we have a fair shot against the thing behind all this, Yogg-Saron. We thought Thorim might be one you all could reach seein’ as ye worked with him fer so long a few months back.”
“The Kirin Tor is working on bringing Freya around,” Archmage Rhydian continues, “And we leave Mimiron to the Explorer’s League. We leave Thorim to you. Good luck, mercenaries.”
One by one, the team uses the unusual Ulduar teleporter system, and they appear in the antechamber. It is a massive chamber with devices of unknown purpose, and some kind of display of a constellation elevated in the center.
Moving forward, the team comes to a raised circular walkway over who knows what kind of glowing machine. A great column of strange energies rises from the remnants of a shattered dome, fragments of glass - or something like it - caught up in the beam in an arrangement that suggests a burst of power ruptured it from below. A look over the edge reveals a confusing muddle of eerie lights and broken links of spectral chains, which appear of a similar astral character as the constellation displays.
Around the walkway are a number of doors. One (right) is frosted over, with emblems of snowflakes along the ice - Hodir’s area. Another seems to have some kind of gear decoration (not shown) - Mimiron. Another (left) is wreathed in fronds of greenery - Freya’s. And then, in between Freya and Hodir, is an archway marked with a lightning bolt. That must be where to find Thorim, the Lord of Thunder.
Into Thorim’s Arena
The team enters this archway to find themselves in the center of a massive arena, Thorim overseeing a combat in progress with great interest, with a much smaller hyldnir woman at his side. A giant jormungar worm faces off against several competitors in ragged armor and a variety of tabards. They look exhausted, dirty, bruised, and nearly broken.
[PLACEHOLDER - Bran and Ace enter as a pair and react to the sight in a manner to be described by both of us when we are back!]
Nunuzac is accompanying the expedition laden with first aid gear and hanging back to stay out of trouble. She is not sure enough of her elemental magic, which had been fizzling lately, to be accounted for as part of the combat team, but claims that her ability to be quick and coordinate for backup if needed could still be an asset. She is likely not fooling anyone about her deep concern for Erixa most of all.
Her eyes are wide at the glimpses she gets over the heads of the crew, of some kind of stadium lined with iron dwarf spectators.
Pericleia looks grim, and she is one of the first through Thorim's door. She does not seem to think much of meeting Brann Bronzebeard, an Azerothian celebrity. She is here to save her friend.
Cressidha seems as put-together and calm as always, and she is polite to Brann and Archmage Rhydian.
Nesselos stands near Nunuzac, his eyes wide with worry for his cousin and also for the uncertainty of his value in this time of unruly elements. He has a gun strapped to his back, a nod to reliance on skills from old days as Rangari.
Sil hangs near the back of the group, ready to slip into the shadows. He had greeted Brann and the Explorer's League with enthusiasm, and seemed to know a few of the dwarves present, but now his manner is serious as he surveys the arena.
Jo stands near Cressidha, goggles covering whatever expression might be in her eyes.
Yveris, her expression full of concern, looks ready to run straight into the arena to heal the battered competitors. "Healer…" she murmurs, pointing to herself. She waits for the order, though.
Atley marches into Ulduar with a grim, battle ready expression etched onto his hard gestures. Sword and shield drawn, he takes in the strange, otherworldly sights and sounds of the massive vault with a look of wary awe, once just a small boy from Redridge.
Oranna is just a few paces behind Dane and his shield, her SUNBEAM over-engineered gun held out and at the ready, though her finger isn't yet on the trigger and the gun is pointed at the ground. She listens intently as they pass by the structures, and inspects the arena through her scope, getting as much information as she can about what's ahead of them, and what Thorim is doing.
As the Jormungar turns, another weary combatant comes into view, one who might look familiar to some of the Cobalt Company members, though she’s missing her tabard. She’s a blue-skinned draenei whose battered armor is smeared with blood and ichor. Her black hair hangs limp and loose around her horns, and she looks up at the intruders with eyes glazed with exhaustion. It is Erixa.
"Thorim!" Cressidha shouts. "What are you doing?" Apparently, she can raise her voice like that.
Pericleia starts forward, but looks to Dane for confirmation.
Yveris starts to move when Pericleia starts, and has to stop suddenly when she looks to Dane. She is Eager.
Thorim looks down upon the group in annoyance. “Interlopers! You mortals who dare to interfere with my sport will pay… Wait- you…”
His expression becomes uncertain as he notices the Cobalt tabards. Then his eyes fix on Cressidha, who just shouted at him. He says in confusion, “I remember you… In the mountains… there was a kaldorei disguised as my wife, but I saw through the… illusion… wait…” He glances over to the woman at his side. “Who are–”
The hyldnir woman next to him leans in at his shoulder and says, “Thorim, my lord, why else would these invaders have come into your sanctum but to slay you? They must be stopped!”
The confusion clears from his eyes, and Thorim looks angry again. “Slay me? How dare they! Stop them!”
Nunuzac seems to not fully be registering the confusion between Thorim and the others, while the unfamiliar hyldnir urges him to turn against them. Instead she is looking like she wants to reach out to Erixa, but wisely keeps herself from running out in front of the huge ice worm and others fighting without her elemental backup. She calls out instead while Erixa tries to disengage, trying to get her to recognize the wall of safety to run toward. "Are these the other taken??"
Iron dwarves begin to leap down into the arena, wielding axes as they advance on the Cobalt team, while others come out of an opening on the ground floor.
Ben had entered the antechamber at Dane's shoulder, his own sword and shield ready; he had been gawking openly at nearly everything they passed, but the sight of the arena skirmish before them focuses him at once. He scans the combatants, sizing up the situation with his jaw set. When Erixa appears, he takes a swift step forward, his eyes widening. "Erixa!" he shouts.
Erixa turns her head at the call, and a little spark of hope appears in her glowing eyes at the recognition. She works her way towards the allies as more iron dwarves flood the arena, and shakes her head at Nunu, then nods. "I don't know. Some. Some are like me, just… enduring. It has been so long. I am so tired."
Pericleia takes off running towards Erixa and the other gladiators, trying to clear them a path to safety. "Healer, with me!" she says to Yveris.
Yveris hurries after Pericleia, pulling a plant from a pouch at her side and using it to channel rejuvenating energies towards the weary and injured combatants.
Nunuzac moves to guide Erixa back into the hallway with her and Nesselos, while better equipped company members step up to the danger. She refrains from hugging the exhausted vindicator and offers water from her supplies, eyes brimming. "Pericleia is rested and ready! You must trust and stay safe."
Ness hangs back in the hallway with Nunuzac to help those rescued from the arena.
Cressidha has no problem calling up a blizzard for the iron dwarves and yelling at the same time. "Remember what your brother Loken did to you!" she shouts to Thorim. "What he did to Sif!"
Sil follows after Pericleia and Yveris, helping to make a path for the other gladiators.
Jo looks at Erixa with something like relief and then starts to coat the ground beneath the iron dwarves with fire.
"What Loken…" Thorim says, his expression going vague.
"My Lord Thorim, they're trying to confuse you!" the fake Sif says. "They murdered your brother Loken!"
"I thought… did they? How dare they!" Thorim thunders.
"Someone needs to get to that woman," Cressidha says to the others. "Take her down. I'm out of range." She begins to move closer.
Atley widens his eyes at the reveal of Erixa, and narrows them upon seeing Thorim's mind being played with in such a fashion.
[PLACEHOLDER for Bran/Ace reactions]
Erixa drinks the water gratefully, sinking to sit on the stone floor in the first safety she's seen in over a week. She gestures with one hand to the grated opening on the ground floor. "If you can get through there, you can get to him. It is… guarded. But straight to Thorim, try to get evil illusion away from him."
Most of the other gladiators are grateful to follow Pericleia and the others to safety. A few refuse the help and fight on with an oddly single-minded determination.
Jo steps forward, into the arena, trusting to the others to keep her safe, and spends several seconds summoning up a massive pyroblast that she launches at the fake Sif. The fire hits something invisible, just before it reaches her, and dissolves into sizzling sparks that dissipate. "They're protected by some kind of shield!"
"Shield," Yveris echoes, sulking.
Erixa gestures weakly to the tunnel. "Go then. Hit her with a hammer in the face." Erixa might be very tired of this fake Sif woman.
Oranna turns her attention to the surrounding Titan structure, looking for anything that could be powering a shield, or projecting an image. "Have ye seen anythin' connected to her? A device? An orb? They are fond o' orbs, crackly like ones."
Yveris looks torn between going through the tunnel and helping the injured fighters, now surrounded by angry iron dwarves.
"Sir Atley, Hazan, the tunnel!" Pericleia calls. "I can hold up here."
Ben does not need to be told, and is already charging in that direction, shield ready. "Behind me!" he bellows. "Fall in!" He does not seem to be directing anyone in specific. Fall in, some of you guys.
Nunuzac dabs Erixa's face a bit with cool cloth dampened from a bit of the water, worriedly fussing over her while relieving from some of the sweat and grime. She twists about to eyeball the side-grate in the arena, then nods, staring to Nesselos. "Hold here."
She darts off in ghost wolf form to dodge her way through the arena and hunt for a way in. Fiddling with some nearby mechanisms, the grate covering a wide-open tunel begins to creak. "A way up! Erixa says!" She calls back to the combatants and nods vigorously at Pericleia's call.
Jo looks between Pericleia and Dane. "Yes, let's split up. Some to defend the injured here. Rest to get to Thorim and that impersonator."
Yveris points to herself. "Healer?"
"At least one healer with me," Pericleia requests, sending a Light-image of her shield ricocheting between a group of iron dwarves. "And another in the tunnel."
"I'm with you!" Nesselos says, stepping toward Pericleia and positioning himself between Erixa and the melee.
Yveris nods her thanks to Nesselos, and follows Ben.
Sil falls in behind Ben.
Jo stays behind, keeping her eyes on Thorim and the fake Sif in case of tricks.
Cressidha nods to Jo and falls in behind Ben as well. One mage per group.
[ PLACEHOLDER @Mishell (Brannagen) @Teensy (Ace) BRAN and ACE will at this point be choosing whether to stay and bonk iron dwarves in the main arena or follow Ben through the secret shortcut tunnel! There is at least one healer in both, so Bran is free to pick either one. ]
[PLACEHOLDER I'll add some stuff above about Paluuva being here. @Ozma]
In the Arena
Paluuva remains at Erixa's side, continuously channeling the healing power of the Light into her former pupil. "Be renewed in the Light," she murmurs in Draenei.
Erixa looks briefly like she might just collapse into sleep, but then she forces herself back to standing. "I can still help."
Nunuzac declines to enter the danger tunnel, satisfied that they are well covered on healing and fighting capacity, and rushes back behind Nesselos to Erixa's side again with Paluuva. She looks really quite worried at the vindicator's willingness to jump back into the fray.
Erixa looks at Nunu and summons a weary smile. "Paluuva has me all patched up. Time to fight… more… they never let us rest for long."
Paluuva places her arms gently around Erixa's shoulder. "You are exhausted, and even the Light has its limits. Please do not push yourself beyond your own." She nods Nunuzac nearer. "Let us look after you while you catch your breath."
"It will be over soon!" Nunuzac insists in draenei. "No more of this! Your friends are here and it's your time to let them take over this fight. There will be more for you to do, but you must recover a /little//."
"The hyldnir will be angry," Erixa says, turning her gaze to the continuing arena fight. "I am not supposed to stop until end. These are to-death fights."
In the Tunnel
When Dane and Ben lead the troops into the tunnel they find it is actually a pretty nice tunnel (ignore random elf, I was taking pictures). It is, however, full of enemies. Dark runed and iron dwarves rush down the hallway towards them.
Yveris glances at the bones in the tunnel, concerned.
Atley snarls at Pericleia, "Right!" He raises his chain sword and triggers it, the metal grinding and screeching as he charges in towards the army of dark runed iron dwarves in the tunnel, shield raised. "Cut through them! That impersonator muster die!" he bellows with a boom, bringing the chainsword down onto a nearby iron dwarves' throat, 'prospecting' through it with an angry mess of sparks and debris. Ringinginging.
[PLACEHOLDER for Ace and Bran entering tunnel]
Cressidha reaches for her elemental bracers, pauses, and lets them be without summoning Marina, who has been temperamental lately. She calls down a blizzard on the enemy dwarves instead.
Those in the tunnel make quick work of the iron dwarves. At the end of the hallway, a colossus waits in a room decorated with stained glass. The left side of the room glows for a moment, and then he smashes his fiery fist into the ground, a shockwave rippling out from the crash.
Atley knits his brow at the glow to the left side before he crouches down and raises his shield, warning the others with a deafening yell of, "Braaace!"
Ben is briefly rocked by the wave and staggers, looking stunned. He shakes his head briskly — lots of concussion practice, y'all — and shouts, "Watch that light!"
Yveris jumps back in surprise, then hurriedly looks around for anyone who needs healing, her renewing energies reaching like eager roots for soil.
The Colossus raises its right hand, fiery light gathering as it prepares for another smash.
Ben follows his own instructions and ducks away from the glowing side of the room, glancing over his shoulder to be certain others are following.
Cressidha blinks to better positioning and switches to her usual single-target mage tactics, using ice and frostfire this time around.
Atley stays at Ben's side, shield raised and ready to endure another blast from teh Titanic construct.
As soon as the blast has stopped reverberating, Ben glances sidelong at Atley and gives him a grim nod. He raises his sword and charges the construct.
Atley nods and yells, "Chaaarge!" He, indeed, charges in to slash at the construct's calves, chainsword shrieking noisily.
[PLACEHOLDER - Ace and Bran react to the charge]
Yveris keeps her place behind everyone else, sparing a moment to smile at Bran. Healing buddies again!
The danger of the blast avoided, the Colossus quickly falls to the combined might of those charging into melee and Cressidha's deadly ice. They have taken the room.
The team then heads up the stairs to Thorim’s position, facing an enormous rune giant! He raises one massive foot and stomps the ground, knocking everyone back a pace before he turns to fight.
Cressidha falls on her rear end in a very undignified way and scrambles back to her feet, wincing a little. Her expression dares anybody to comment.
Atley growls at seeing the enormous rune giant's foot raise, and rushes in to cover BRANNAGEN with his shield, stumbling a few steps even with his own brutish strength as he endures the shockwave. He vigorously shakes his head back and forth before releasing a battle shout, pointing, "Bring it down!"
Yveris barely manages to avoid falling back down the stairs. Elven agility saves her.
Sil does not smile at Cressidha's undignified fall, maybe because he's too busy scrambling up from his own. Then he rushes in. "On it, sir!"
Cressidha brings it down. Well, she helps to, anyway. Mostly with ice and frostfire. She stays near the oversized bannister for some reason.
Oranna gets back into position at the rear guard, behind the people with shields.
Befound snarls as she swipes at the Rune Giant's feet like it's the world's most giantest water glass near an edge in all of Azeroth, and she is personally going to bring it down to a shattering crash.
Atley rushes in to slash at the giant's heel with the chainsword, pausing only to project his voice once again over the chaos and point upwards at the hulking enemy's head. "The head! Aim for the head!"
Cressidha aims for the head.
The giant stomps again, but with slightly less force under the combined attack. The shockwave ripples out through the now-prepared fighters.
Sil does something impressively acrobatic to avoid the shockwave and then immediately after land a stab into the giant's head with both swords.
Cressidha holds on to the bannister. Her secret plan for not falling works out after all.
Yveris's magic spreads out to heal any aches and pains caused by the shockwave. She makes no move that looks even remotely violent, focusing on the healing.
Ben flings a shock of Light at the giant's head before returning to his own hacking. He is prepared for the shockwave and manages to ride it out, his feet braced.
Before long, the rune giant is defeated by the combined combatants, and the team can see Thorim and his ‘Sif’ in sight at the end of another decorative hallway. She is tiny next to him. They are straight ahead and no more defenders are in sight.
Yveris stares at all the star-statues, as impressed by them as she was the large one near the entrance. "Pretty…" she says with a smile.
[PLACEHOLDER - Bran sketching, Ace reaction]
Ben is glaring narrow-eyed at 'Sif,' and trying so hard not to be distracted by the star-statues. Stop distracting him, star-statues.
Cressidha readies a skein of wool as they move closer, and when she gets in range, she attempts to turn 'Sif' into a sheep. The polymorph fails.
The last blast from the giant had dislocated Atley's shoulder. With gritted teeth, he had walked forcefully to its corpse to ram his shoulder against it and replace the socket.
He marches into the grand, decorative with all of the others and spots Thorim, eyes narrowing. "Mighty Thorim!" he calls, voice carrying. "We, are not, your enemies! We fought to reclaim your weapons, your armor, your throne! That wretched imposter whispers poison to you!"
Ben did none of those things — that was Blue Squad — but he nods firmly at Atley's words and bangs his sword against his shield as if to punctuate them. Or maybe just to focus Thorim's attention.
"Poison?" Yveris looks for poison to cleanse.
As Dane and others step on the engraved circle on the ground, lightning arcs from ceiling to floor and shimmers in place, holding those in the center of the room in a rigid trap of electricity. Thorim turns to laugh.
“Impertinent whelps, you dare challenge me atop my pedestal? I will crush you myself!” Thorim bares his teeth in a grin. His smile falters as he sees Dane, and he says, "My armor… I remember it needed repair, and my axe was missing… the frost giants…"
The fake Sif smiles viciously at his side, and Thorim's uncertainty vanishes again. “Lord Thorim, I too will bring your foes a frigid death!”
“If you seek to fight me, we’ll do it in the arena!” Thorim says with finality, and the lightning trap releases. Thorim and the fake Sif leap down into the arena, leaving the combatants to follow.
Atley gets zapped by the electricity and, limbs spasming until he's freed. He vigorously shakes his head like a giant dog and starts to jog forward to catch up, lowering his voice to a growl as he tells the others, "If he cannot see reason, he must die, but that is not Sif. She died long ago, a trickery on behalf of Loken. End it first, if able."
Ben nods at Atley and heads for the edge of the platform himself. You would have to be real close to him to hear him mutter, "We just got up here, damn."
[PLACEHOLDER for Ace and Bran responding to and following Dane]
Sil looks after where the two have jumped, and then follows Dane. "We left the injured back there, we gotta follow."
Cressidha flings up a handful of feathers to slow-fall the group.
Yveris perks up at the word 'injured.' "Healer," she says, pointing to herself. In case anyone was unaware by this point.
Atley leaps off of the platform, and doesn't completely destroy his legs, thanks to Cress.
[PLACEHOLDER for Bran WOOHOO and Ace reaction]
Sil nods his thanks to Cressidha with a quick flash of a smile, and jumps down to the arena will full confidence in the spell.
Yveris follows the others, and seems to be enjoying this falling slowly business. Whee!
Oranna mutters something about her knees as she jumps off, luckily slowed enough to land with a barely perceivable thump. Befound lands next to her, on her feet, of course.
Back in the Arena Together
In the arena, 'Sif' raises her hands, and a circular blizzard blocks the edges of the fighting floor. She laughs, and says, “No cowards here today, I shall ensure you cannot escape.”
"No escape," Yveris says. "Win." She looks confident.
Atley glares and looks around before he settles his gaze back on Sif. "We're not trapped in here with you, witch." He points his sword at her. "You're trapped in here with us. Prepare to die."
Sif just laughs, and it isn't a happy sound.
From Thorim’s hands arc lightning that leaps from Yveris to Sil to Dane, gaining in power as it goes.
Sil cries out, his muscles seizing up briefly from the strike.
Atley issues a grunt of pain and falls to a knee, shield clanging against the ground as he uses it in the struggle to stay upright, jaw locking with exertion.
Yveris lets out a small cry, her skin hardening, and becoming more like bark.
Over at the entrance, Erixa stumbles back from the blizzard at the edge of the room, raising her weapon once again. In Common more halting than usual, she calls, "Thorim, listen. We do not want fight you. Please don't make fight anymore."
Pericleia, looking invigorated but a little more battered than she did before, pulls on the Light to try and draw the fake Sif's attention to her as she rushes the hyldnir woman.
Nunuzac is dodging blizzards nearby and mainly trying to make herself scarce - the sign of the Naaru pulses above her head as she prays for a weak glimmer of healing over Sil at the shout, for lack of her usual bag of tricks.
Jo directs all her firepower at the Hyldnir woman. Sil recovers quickly, nodding a thanks to Nunu even as he flexes his lightning-tensed wrists to loosen them. He moves over towards Sif as directed.
While Sif is distracted by the attack, Thorim looks more closely again at Dane, Cressidha, Erixa, and the others wearing the blue tabards with white wings. "Wait. Weren’t we allies? Those tabards- you’re Cobalt Company. We fought together, you helped me prepare to face my brother Loken… I had to face him because… he killed…” he looks over at the fake Sif.
"Yes. Yes! That isn't her, Thorim!" Cressidha looks encouraged, but she also pulls her ice barrier up just in case of more lightning.
Atley pushes himself up with a growl and yells, "Aye! She's your true enemy!" He rushes the Hyldnir woman, perhaps in vain, and attempts to strike at her.
"Yes, allies!" Erixa cries through the snow.
“Lord Thorim, no… you mustn’t listen to-” the fake Sif says, but as she fends for herself she doesn’t seem to have the focus to put power behind her words. The fake Sif is well able to defend herself, but it's taking much of her attention to do so.
Thorim raises a hand to call more lightning, but then pauses. The power holding him finally seems to lose its grip in the face of memory, and realization flashes into Thorim’s eyes. He looks confused, then surprised, then furious.
He turns to the fake Sif in a rage. “You! Fiend, you are not my beloved! Begone! You are only an illusion wielded by the hand behind all the evil that has befallen Ulduar, left my kingdom in ruins, corrupted my brother, and slain my wife.”
Atley comes to an abrupt halt, literally skidding to a stop across the ground. He raises his shield to his comrades and watches what happens next with eager attention.
Yveris ducks, in case there is going to be stray lightning bouncing around.
Thorim does not let the lightning dissipate, but this time he does not use it against Cobalt Company. His eyes are full of rage as he turns it instead toward the being that impersonated his precious wife. Before the lightning lands, the fake Sif has vanished. In her place, a writhing tentacle waves for a moment, then retreats into the ground.
The blizzard ceases, and lightning no longer crackles through the arena.
Thorim turns to face Cobalt Company, a troubled expression on his face.
Ben stares at the tentacle, gives his head a brief shake, blinks. He has had his skull rattled a little. Was that — ? He drags his attention to Thorim and then to Dane, and lowers his own shield warily.
Nunuzac makes an uneasy expression at the form of Sif fading into… that. She eyeballs the spot where it withdrew while stepping back a bit.
Pericleia checks on the remaining gladiators, to see if whatever force was influencing them to keep fighting has faded.
The remaining gladiators look confused, the will forcing them onwards having retreated.
Erixa smiles. "We have done it. I can forgive. Thorim did not know what he did, before."
"Fight is over," Pericleia explains. "You rest now."
Atley scowls at the tentacle, and slowly tears his gaze away from where it was to look to Thorim. Exhaling once, he marches forward and approaches the being. "It seems you've come to your senses and remembered who your true enemies are. You also remember us, and these are many of our comrades," he says, gesturing to the others.
Ben nods politely. Hey. He is a comrade.
Erixa collapses once again to the ground, too weary to stand any longer.
Atley just points at Erixa with his sword to try and summon a healer.
Erixa's fall catches the corner of Ben’s eye, and he turns urgently toward her, steps in that direction, and then looks around. He ain't a healer.
Nunuzac rushes over to Erixa and waves over Nesselos. "You lift? We take to camp in the front, with mages guarding? Fire and resting spots are there."
Nesselos nods. "Yes, we need to get her out of this place." He leans over and picks up his cousin Erixa in a princess carry, over her mumbled protestations.
[ @Ozma (Niksi) Paluuva was keeping Erixa company, she would probably be here for this! PLACEHOLDER ]
"I do, yes…" Thorim says, though his voice still holds a touch of uncertainty. "I feel as though I am awakening from a nightmare, but the shadows in this place yet linger. Mortals, I am indebted to you once again for freeing me from the terrible corruption that besets this place.”
Atley grunts and nods with relief. "Your throne awaits, but aye, we've come to purge this place of its wretchedness. Will you help us?"
"So… that wasn't Loken again," Cressidha says, folding her arms as she looks at the tentacle. "That was just… the creature? The Old God? Hm."
"No, not Loken," Thorim says. "It’s words held a kernel of truth, I think. I assume you did kill my brother Loken, but that was as I desired. He was already lost to this corruption… this… Yogg-Saron."
"We fought and killed him," Cressidha says, "but I confess that some part of me remained uncertain if that was some further deception on his part, as a master illusionist."
Nunuzac approaches Pericleia and air-hugs her armor to avoid getting pinched (and she's not squeezable through it anyhow). "I am no good to fight without elementals…" Her eyes are worried and she seems upset over not having the powerful capabilities she had gained after taking to shamanism that suited her so well. "Protect them, vindicator! We will care for Erixa."
Erixa waves a hand at Pericleia, her face blue with embarrassment and half-hidden by her loose, untidy dark hair.
Pericleia carefully pats Nunuzac's shoulder. "I shall. You are brave to come so far without the aid of spirits today." She smiles gently at Nunuzac and Erixa. "And you fought valiantly for a very long time, I am very proud. Now you must rest."
Thorim looks over the team. “I am afraid I must do so as well. I have not yet recovered fully, and I do not relish the possibility of falling to that influence once again. Still, I can help you battle Yogg-Saron, if you will join those facing him. I can grant you and your friends the Fury of the Storm.”
He does not wait to give his blessing. Everyone feels a sizzling of lightning through their veins, and the sensation, rather than painful, makes each person feel tougher and more powerful.
Nunuzac heads off to find the teleporter-mechanism that connects the inner ring with the base camp, once Nesselos and Paluuva are ready to move. [Provisionally - Paluuva may accompany the party going further in PLACEHOLDER]
Atley widens his eyes at the buff granted by Thorim and looks to his sword and shield, jaw set. "You've our thanks. By the end of all this, remember that it was the Grand Alliance returning you to your throne, once again." Atley name drops, purposefully.
[And Paluuva you can stay for Yogg-Saron if you like! Erixa will be okay. PLACEHOLDER]
Thorim nods solemnly.
Time to Face Yogg-Saron
Not long after the group of draenei head off, Brann Bronzebeard and a team of dwarves and mages arrive at the door to the arena, looking pleased to see Thorim back on our side.
“Ye’ve done it, Cobalt!” Brann says delightedly. “In th’ meantime, the Kirin Tor have recovered us Freya, and my people have brought around Mimiron. All the Titan Keepers are saved, and they’ll all support us as we go ta fight the corruption. As ye might have guessed, it’s an Old God, one called Yogg-Saron. This is goin’ to be a difficult fight, an’ none of us are fresh. If ye’d like to join the main force, yer welcome to, but ye’ve already done yer part here today.”
Ben doesn't even dignify this with a response. He is here for some Old God blood. Not literally. That stuff is probably pretty bad for you. It's a figure of speech, Rae.
Sil looks around at the others, and nods once. He'll stay.
Jo nods too. She's in for Old God fighting. Her friend Tadget would never let her hear the end of it if she backed down now.
Cressidha flexes her fingers. "Thorim has empowered us. I believe I can continue."
Atley grunts at Brann Bronzebeard. "We've come to fight." He looks off to Erixa to give her a slow nod of approval for her miraculous endurance.
The throng continues back to the walkway, where now the three other Keepers stand, looking approvingly at the army. Freya resembles her avatar in Sholazar Basin, a woman overflowing with life. Mimiron appears to be a mechagnome, with a fierce, keen intellect in his glowing eyes. Hodir is a giant of frost, his breath shimmering as it condenses in the air.
“This way, those of ye comin’ with,” Brann says, gesturing us onward to a another doorway. First, we come through to a shattered room of stained glass, where a creature out of nightmare, General Vezax, lies already defeated on the ground.
Atley examined the slaughtered general with equal parts wariness and disgust, gaze only briefly passing over the Keepers with stiff, gruff, and albeit awkward nods of greetings.
Yveris follows the others, though her steps grow uncertain as they pass the fallen General.
Then we move onward, to a shattered window behind which another walkway points down… We circle down to find ourselves in the area below the walkway, with the Keepers watching us from above. But what we find here is not a creature from a nightmare, but only a vrykul woman, hovering slightly over a shallow pool of water. Faceless ones creep towards her from the edges of the room, and she cries out to us for help.
“Help me! I’m Sara, I don’t know how I ended up in this place!” Sara calls out, her eyes pleading. “Please get them off me!”
Atley snatches his horn from his belt and blows through it, the ringing roar of the Lion Horn of Stormwind filling the chamber, to try and strike dread in their enemies and vitality in their allies. "To arms! Cut 'em apart!" He charges in to try and rend and slash the faceless ones to pieces.
A shadow slips into their ranks from that room, joining their descent through the shattered window and into the prison itself. The shadow does not announce herself, or say anything in particular, not even to Ben. She is not here for self-promotion, today.
Present among the main force is Isyldir, a big hunk of a blue draenei in Rangaari gear who has a coincidental resemblance to Nesselos, mostly in the way his blue hair spikes up behind his horn plates. "Wow, it's Cobalt Company!" Trotting along next to him is a glowing purple raptor.
"Isyldir," Pericleia greets with a faint sigh.
Among the Kirin Tor representatives is Archmage Celica Harrow, a quel'dorei woman with pale white-blonde hair. She might look familiar to anyone who was present in the fight against Malygos.
"Don't worry!" calls Isyldir to Sara, without a hint of suspicion. "We're gonna get you out! Rora, gettem!" He directs the raptor at one of the Faceless Ones and follows up with his crossbow.
Cressidha has Dane's back, as usual, from a safe distance. She alternates between ice and frostfire, but seems ready to break off a cast at any moment for a counterspell if anyone tries anything funny.
Yveris hangs back, getting ready to heal.
Almeiria does not move to help the vrykul woman, instead hanging back to watch. If her eyes could be seen through the shadows enveloping her, they would be full of suspicion.
Sil moves to the edge of the pool and sets to defending the unexpected lady.
Jo hangs back, wielding fire and keeping an eye on her people more than the vrykul woman.
Among the Kirin Tor is also red-haired sin'dorei, Coriene Bloodsong, that might look familiar to those who fought Malygos. She channels arcane energy at the faceless ones, a faint frown on her face as she regards this Sara woman.
Pericleia pulls the attention of one of the Faceless Ones to her with the Light, the blows she lands with her sword resounding with the force of a hammer of Light.
When that one falls, a cloud of shadow poison erupts from its body. It will harm Pericleia if she does not move quickly.
Pericleia backs out of the cloud, attempting to cleanse herself with the Light just in case.
“The time to strike at the head of the beast will soon be upon us! Focus your anger and hatred on his minions!” Sara points at the faceless ones, the endless stream of them coming closer.
Then Sara points at Pericleia. “Yes! YES! Show them no mercy! Give no pause to your attacks!”
Pericleia feels a surge of power within her, but she also might feel oddly fragile, like her armor might split under the lightest attack. The strange dual feeling soon starts to fade.
Another faceless one falls to Dane, expelling a similar shadow poison cloud.
"Do not touch cloud!" Pericleia yells to the others.
Sil has moved back in next to Sara, as several of the faceless ones make their way closer to her.
Cressidha shouts, "Sil! Get away from the water!" She calls down a blizzard as soon as there are two faceless ones close enough to each other, trying to slow them down.
Sil looks up at Cressidha and nods understanding, leaping away from the pool just at the right moment. The blizzard slows the faceless ones, and then kills them, and the cloud blooms over Sara.
"You got to move!" Sil cries, but Sara doesn't seem to care all that much.
Instead, Sara points at a Faceless One, and attack magic streams from her fingers. “Let hatred and rage guide your blows!”
The Faceless One staggers under the strike, but it also seems to grow larger, more powerful. It lashes out at one of the dwarves, hitting him across the torso and slashing right through his armor, lacerating flesh.
Sara hastily reaches out with what seems to be healing magic. “Oh no, let me help you!”
The dwarf rises, apparently healed, and continues the fight. But… something is wrong. He staggers, falling to one knee, as his wounds not only reappear but worsen drastically. He falls to the ground, and goes still.
Yveris hurries to the dwarf to try to tend his wounds properly, dodging around poison clouds. She shoots a doubtful and slightly disturbed look at Sara.
Isyldir calls his raptor back to safety when he sees that everything keeps exploding into poison clouds. "Hey. HEY! What was that?!"
Sil looks worriedly between Sara and the fallen dwarf.
Sara does not even address the fallen dwarf situation, but turns to Isyldir. "Let me strengthen you!" He is filled with that same disturbing dual feeling of power and frailty.
"Oh, thanks, Lady Sara!" Isyldir experimentally takes a shot at one of the Faceless Ones with his crossbow - from a safe distance, of course.
Pericleia narrows her eyes and raises a hand to try and cleanse the magic from Isyldir.
Isyldir's bolt hits the faceless one to great effect, and it staggers on its approach to Sara.
The magic clings to Isyldir, resisting paladin cleansing, but it has at least already started to fade on it's own.
After slaying a Faceless one, and witnessing the explosive cloud, Atley glares with disgust and steps away from it, turning his head to the side. His gaze snaps onto Sara, and he watches her intently, before he gives his sword a spin and leaps back into battle against a nearby Faceless One, now keping Sara in his periphery at all times.
Something dark lingers about the dwarf, but Yveris is able to heal him. The wounds seal and stay sealed this time.
Cressidha winds a skein of wool around her fingers and points at Sara, trying to turn her into a sheep. This might be the Tentacle Test now.
Sara is not sheepable. She remains hovering over the pool.
Almeiria continues to hang back near a wall, appearing to struggle with something internally. She does, however, direct her efforts to dealing with the Faceless Ones, assailing them with shadows.
Jo looks around at the gathered allies, as she continues to defend against the constant stream of faceless ones. "I think there's something wrong here…"
"Sara, wrong," Yveris chimes in. She did NOT like the un-healening of the dwarf.
Cressidha nods to Jo. "She's got to be another one of the tentacle puppets—"
Archmage Harrow fires a volley of arcane missiles at Sara. She's aiming for the legs, not necessarily a lethal strike.
Sara starts to laugh, but there is no joy in it. “Well spotted, mortals. I am no troubled damsel, but neither am I a 'tentacle puppet'.”
The arcane missiles seem to do little damage.
Another faceless one reaches her and dies, surrounding her in its shadow poison cloud.
Atley tosses his sword to his shield hand in order to quickdraw a hatchet, throwing it at Sara's midsection with a growl.
Isyldir goes, "Huh?"
Rora the raptor shrieks loudly.
Isyldir goes, "Huh."
The hatchet ricochets off her midsection and splashes into the pool.
Almeiria finally speaks up. "Are they being…consumed?"
Sil backs away from the pool warily.
Coriene inclines her head, listening.
Sara looks at Almeiria with a faintly amused smile, but doesn't answer. Then her lips part and her teeth are too sharp for a vrykul woman. “I am the lucid dream. The monster in your nightmares. The fiend of a thousand faces. Cower before my true form!”
Her body dissolves into the shivering pool beneath her. Then, a creature emerges with too many mouths, too many tentacles, too many teeth. It is a horrific nightmare of flesh, protected beneath a shield. Tentacles begin to emerge from the ground, lashing at the combatants.
Yogg-Saron’s voice, emerging from nowhere and everywhere, echoes through the hall and into the very souls of each person present. “BOW DOWN BEFORE THE GOD OF DEATH!”
Atley grits his teeth and moves to charge at Sarah before their true foe appears.
Eyes wide with aggressive energy, he slowly takes a step back and raises his shield, gaze snapping to each countless tentacle. "Yogg-Saron!" He yells, before slicing at a nearby tentacle as it whips towards him, attempting to sever it in half.
He shakes his head, as if to do away with the voice in his mind, and snarls, "I bend the knee to one and one alone! Kill it!"
"Oh, I get it," says Isyldir cheerfully. "Lady Sara was the Old God!" At his side, the raptor shakes in fear, and he pats her nose.
Pericleia grits her teeth, calling on the Sign of the Naaru to help herself stay focused.
"Shit," says Cressidha, faintly.
An Explorer’s League dwarfs' face goes slack, staring at the monstrosity before him. Then he raises his axe jerkily, and turns to attack the dwarf next to him.
After doing away with a tentacle, Atley spots the mind-controlled dwarf and rushes over to shield bash him painfully, but non-lethally, to the ground! "Guard your minds!"
A Kirin Tor mage’s face pales, and she turns to expel an explosion of arcane at Coriene, for no obvious reason. Coriene barely gets her shield up in time, and hastily turns the offending mage into a sheep, her own composure cracking with alarm.
Jo stares at Yogg-Saron, her eyes wide with shock, and then forces herself to turn away.
Almeiria's breath catches at the revelation. Even as she seems to consider a retreat, she is rooted in fear. "This is… what I came for…" she says quietly, closing her eyes. The shadows around her seem to expand, as if feeling her surroundings for her.
Yveris jumps away from the Sudden Massive Old God with a yelp, and makes a hasty retreat towards a wall of the prison.
Sil staggers back, towards his allies, and then flinches as a tentacle erupts by his side. He lashes out at it with both swords, cutting it down.
Ben has gone ashen, but his expression is one of fury rather than fear. "Fucken liar, is what you are," he snarls. "In people's heads." He casts a blinding exorcism at the thing, and then turns nimbly to hack at the tentacle nearest him.
More tentacles emerge from the ground. One curls around Almeiria, constricting her body, and another lashes out to curl around Cressidha. The grip of each tentacle tightens, proceeding with an apparent plan to crush them to death.
Ben abandons the tentacle closest to him to leap for the nearest constrictor. It happens to be the one that has a death grip on Almeiria. He doesn't seem to notice this fact, just that Tentacle Grab Person and so now tentacle must die.
"Cress!" Sil calls out, and starts to rush towards her.
Cressidha blinks free of her tentacle like a proper mage, pulling up her ice barrier as she wheezes for breath.
There are various cries throughout the troops, as people here or there fall under the sway of Yogg-Saron and turn on their friends.
Almeiria laughs with what breath she can muster, attempting to strike the tentacle with her dagger. "I am not prepared for this kind of game today," she gasps.
Sil arrives just in time for the tentacle to wrap around him. Oof.
Atley shield bashes another Kirin Tor mage under control. "We can't look at it!" he yells, or questions, following Jocoza's move.
Ben steps back to cast a Blessing of Protection on Almeiria; a moment too late, he sees Sil get grabbed.
The Blessing of Protection frees Almeiria from the grasp of the tentacle, and she finishes it off with her spells. "Thank you, Ben," she says, for once forgoing her usual 'dear' at the end.
"I wouldn't recommend it," Jo calls back warily, as she sheeps a mind-controlled dwarf.
Sil struggles against the tentacle, but it tightens around him inexorably.
"Oh no!" Isyldir throws down a freezing trap to keep one of his mind-controlled buddies from murdering him.
Pericleia attempts to cleanse Yogg-Saron's hold on various allies and fails, repeatedly.
"That being is too close to the Truth for mortal minds to handle. Do as the others suggest and avoid looking at it directly." She then sends a Shadowfiend towards the tentacle holding
Yveris runs around frantically, healing wounds, dodging tentacles, and trying to avoid mind controlled allies.
More tentacles spring out of the ground, one right by Ben's feet, attempting to curl around him.
Another springs up by Dane, lashing around his torso to get a deadly grip.
Ben sort of dashes sideways, his head turned away from the monstrous visage, to attack the tentacle clutching Sil. The clouded ground beneath his feet blooms with a consecrating light, but all of his attention is on Sil and that tentacle, and the new one takes him by surprise. He trips and stumbles shoulder-first into Sil's tentacle, and then is grabbed by the other.
For a moment he bares his teeth and struggles to free his sword arm and then, once again, he remembers that he is a paladin. He goes still in the monster's grasp and takes a breath, and a shield of light blooms around him. He is dropped, and lands in an ungainly sprawl, still shielded.
Cressidha spins around towards Sil, moves closer, and and executes a rapid combination of fire spells on the tentacle, her ice barrier melting almost instantly from the heat. The fire blast is nothing new - she's been weaving that in between her frost spells for years - but the blast wave centered on herself, followed up by an instantaneous flame strike that sears the spot that the tentacle emerges from, charring it black, is a technique that only those who have been watching her fight the Scourge recently have had the occasion to see.
The tentacle drops away from Sil and twitches on the floor. Sil takes a deep, shaky breath, stepping away from the fire and staring at the scorch marks. "Thanks for that. And wow. Please do not ever let that thing get in your head, I do not want you for an enemy."
"I am trying very hard not to let it," Cressidha says calmly, which really says nothing about the severity of the internal struggle going on in her mind against the power of Yogg-Saron beyond the fact that Cressidha is still winning.
Atley raises his arms to his sides in a grunt of surprise as he's lashed up by a tentacle. He tries to slash at it with the whirring chainsword, and growls as he feels his ribcage compressing, but he can't seem to get a good angle of attack.
The shadowfiend jumps back from the inferno, gnashing its teeth at first Ben, who is on the ground near it, and then Cressidha. Its tentacles wiggle at them both, then it crawls off to fight another tentacle.
Ben staggers to his feet and, with an inarticulate roar, shoulder-charges the tentacle currently waving Atley around.
Jo spots Dane and sends a fireball, fireblast, fireball right at the tentacle.
Ben ducks back from what he hopes is some real precision fire-slinging there. He does not appear singed.
Almeiria assists Ben in weakening Atley's tentacle. "You make a lovely flag, dear," she calls to Atley. At least she's gaining some of her confidence back.
Atley lands hard on his side once the tentacle retracts, but shoulder-charged and burnt. He pushes himself up and dodggedly shakes his head again, giving Ben and Joczoa a grunt and a nod before he looks for more mind-controlled allies to interrupt.
Suddenly, shadowy portals appear, dotted around the figure of Yogg-Saron. Archmage Rhydian cries, “There! We must reach inside the creature’s mind! Those of you with the courage to go, take those portals!”
Did somebody call for courage? Fucken A. Ben is there.
Atley gives one look to his comrades before he chooses a portal and barrels through it, already preparing a savage strike.
Sil's gaze darts to Ben, and he follows to the portals. Courage is doing the scary thing, even if you're scared…
Almeiria steps through one of the portals with only a minor hesitation.
[ @Mishell (Brannagen) Since BRAN is following DANE, he would probably go through one here as well! PLACEHOLDER]
Yveris stays outside to tend to those too afraid, or too mind controlled to enter.
Pericleia remains on the outside, because there's a fight going on here as well. She has taken it upon herself to protect Yveris so that she can work.
Jo sees that many of Cobalt's people (though not all) are going in and bites her lip in indecision for a moment before following into the portals.
Coriene quietly steps through a portal as well.
Cressidha hurries after her Cobalt leaders.
Isyldir goes, "Alrighty!" and charges right on through a portal. His raptor screeches indignantly at him before reluctantly following.
Inside the portals, those who went see one of three visions.
The Lich King
The Lich King is tormenting a dark flame-burned silhouette of a figure in the Icecrown Citadel. The Lich King's echoing voice says, “Your resilience is admirable.”
The immolated figure screams in torment, but finds the breath to snarl, “I'm not afraid of you!”
Another dark-figure, this one the silhouette of an orc, walks up to the Lich King and salutes him.
The Lich King laughs a hollow laugh. “I will break you… as I broke him!”
The sound of Yogg-Saron’s voice slithers into your mind. “Yrr n'lyeth… shuul anagg! He will learn… no king rules forever; only death is eternal!”
Ben stands briefly bewildered at the change of scenery. This does not look like what he expected to find inside the mind of an old god. But he wants something to attack, and the Lich King is right there, so he charges forward. Two badguys in one go, awesome.
Jo starts to rush forward, then hesitates, confused. She isn't in Icecrown Citadel today, is she?
Almeiria seems to be trying to identify the other two present. "Is this happening right now?" she muses. Despite her efforts, she cannot clear the shadows.
There is no answer from Yogg-Saron.
Neltharion
You are in a decorative room lined with dragons, with the aspects standing in a circle at the center.
A black-robed figure, who must be the Black Dragon Aspect Neltharion, speaks to say, “It is done. All have given that which must be given. I now seal the Dragon Soul forever.”
The green-robed Aspect, Ysera, frowns. “That terrible glow… should that be?”
Neltharion smiles. “For it to be as it must, yes.”
The blue-robed Malygos looks troubled. “It is a weapon like no other. It must be like no other.”
The sound of Yogg-Saron’s voice slithers into your mind. “His brood learned their lesson before too long. You will soon learn yours!”
Coriene watches the Aspects with a quiet curiosity.
Isyldir looks confused.
King Llane
An orcish woman, Garona, in Stormwind Keep walks up to speak to a noble, armored human, King Llane.
She looks at him with nothing but respect. “Bad news, sire. The clans are united under Blackhand in this assault. They will stand together until Stormwind has fallen. Gul'dan is bringing up his warlocks by nightfall. Until then, the Blackrock clan will be trying to take the Eastern Wall.”
The sound of Yogg-Saron’s voice slithers into your mind. “A thousand deaths… or one murder.”
King Llane nods at her. “We will hold until the reinforcements come. As long as men with stout hearts are manning the walls and the throne, Stormwind will hold.”
“The orc leaders agree with your assessment.” As she speaks, Garona suddenly thrusts both her daggers forward, impaling Llane through the chest. He falls at her feet immediately.
Yogg-Saron’s voice sounds amused, as he says, “Your petty quarrels only make me stronger.”
Atley hastily realizes where he is and what's happening, and attempts to intervene, but it's far too late. "NO!"
Sil rushes towards the Stormwind King, crying, "No, watch out!"
He also is too late, and the orc woman finishes her kill.
The Mind of Yogg-Saron
The visions subside and those watching them emerge in a dark space, a glittering amorphous shape within it.
“Kill it!” Sil cries, diving in to sink his daggers into the eldritch nervous system.
Cressidha attempts to kill it with fire.
Atley rushes over to one of the brain 'tendrils' and attempts to sever it with an incoherent battle shout.
Jo thinks that sounds like a great idea, going by the fire that she contributes to the killing.
Coriene observes the other two mages and seems to conclude, yes, fire is correct here. All the mages killing it with fire.
"Quickly," Almeiria says. "This place is pure Void. Being exposed for too long may turn your minds." She contributes her own magic to the fight.
Atley doubletakes Almeiria, eyes flashing with murderous anger, before he settles and seems to remember that she probably knows what she's talking about. He makes with haste to destroy this Thing.
Ben does not have fire but he sears the thing with Light and then swings his sword at the glowing cortex.
Another portal shimmers nearby, and somehow those inside know it’s the way out. As Almeiria indicated, the weight of Yogg-Saron’s will rests on everyone’s mind in this place, growing heavier with each passing second.
Cressidha moves closer to the escape portal in between short bursts of casting.
Soon, Jo catches her breath in something like surprise, and glances around wildly. She might be looking at something invisible. Then she grits her teeth and turns to the portal. "Time for me to go. Do what you can and get out, no one stays here."
She goes through the portal.
"For those of you that don't know your own limits, consider a Sanity Friend," Almeiria instructs. "Someone who can tell when you start to lose your way."
Rora starts freaking out the longer she stays in the room, and finally Isyldir stops shooting bolts at the thing. "Oh! Do you want to be my sanity friend, miss Lady?"
"I don't know if you have any sanity, in all honesty, but your…friend, there seems to be in need. I advise you leave," Almeiria says to Isyldir. "I will be right behind you."
Isyldir nods. "I'll get Rora to safety! Don't stay long, miss Lady!" Rora has already started dragging on his coat with her teeth. He steps through the portal.
Sil staggers back from the wounded central nervous system, and blinks wildly. "I think I better go." He does, back through the portal.
Ben looks after Sil. There went his likeliest sanity friend. He shakes his head sharply once, then a second time, and heads for the portal.
Atley gets one last slash in before he too makes for the portal and escapes.
Coriene casts a few more fireballs, and then makes her way to the portal. She murmurs, "Saw an Old God's brain, check."
Cressidha's head moves as she catches something in her peripheral vision. A moment later, she heads through the exit portal. Nope. Shouldn't be seeing things. Nope.
Almeiria ensures she is the last one remaining, then exits herself, looking significantly drained.
Back to the Fight with Yogg-Saron
Everyone emerges back into the main fight, where now most of the tentacles lay limp on the ground, destroyed by the combined forces. The shimmering shield that protected Yogg-Saron’s body before has vanished.
The fight is not one-sided, however. Yogg-Saron’s voice echoes again through the room and the minds of those present to say, “Look upon the true face of death, and know that your end comes soon!”
Faceless ones now wander the battlefield, wreaking deadly violence among the assembled. Fallen mages and dwarves are scattered on the ground, and more and more seem to have turned against their own allies.
“The shield is down,” Brann cries. “Destroy it!”
Sil, his eyes frantic, throws a knife at the lucid nightmare. He is not going anywhere near that thing.
Yveris is starting to look like she's at her own wits' end, forcing herself to keep healing as many as she can, even through tears. Monster in her nightmares indeed.
Jo shoots one last pyroblast at a particularly nasty-looking tooth-eye-thing.
Coriene channels in a burst of arcane power.
Ben summons the Light's fury to cast a blinding hammer at the thing.
Pericleia cheers when she sees her allies return.
Atley winds up to throw a hatchet at Yogg-Saron, similarly to Sil, before a Faceless One wraps him up from behind and attacks him with its tentacles. Atley growls and flails, like a trapped hound, snarling and growling until he frees himself and severs its ugly head from its shoulders.
Almeiria starts to cast Devouring Plague on Yogg-Saron, then hesitates. Then she starts to cast Shadow Word: Death, and hesitates again. She finally settles on Shadow Word: Pain.
Under the combined onslaught, Yogg-Saron succumbs. Before his body grows still, one last message shimmers through everyone’s minds. “Your fate is sealed. The end of days is finally upon you and ALL who inhabit this miserable little seedling. Uulwi ifis halahs gag erh'ongg w'ssh.”
Brann stands breathing hard, staring at the dead monster. There are cries of dismay as those mind-controlled suddenly seem to recover themselves and realize what they have done.
Sil shudders, stepping back from the pool.
Ben lowers his sword and shield and looks around breathlessly. The wariness in his gaze conveys clearly that he needs a moment to make sure this isn't another vision.
At length, though, satisfied, he steps back and begins silently counting Cobalt tabards.
Atley continues staring at Yogg-Saron's body, even as it lies still. He quietly gnashes his teeth, eyes widened with angry horror.
Almeiria's shadowform flickers out, and she drops to her knees, exhausted, paling at Yogg-Saron's final words. "The shadow of my corpse will choke this land for all eternity," she translates.
Jo looks at Almeiria sharply, her relief at the death fading.
“That aside, we’re not through here, yet,” Brann says, shivering. “When Loken was killed, it triggered a failsafe somewhere in here. A failsafe meant fer the destruction of Azeroth! We must find the system before Algalon the Observer arrives!”
Atley spits onto Yogg-Saron's corpse, briefly shooting Almeiria a dark look. "Some 'god.'"
Almeiria groans and gets back to her feet. "What isn't going to destroy Azeroth? Is it a button? Did they hide a button somewhere that says, 'push here to stop world destruction?'"
"I do no' know, but it's somewhere deeper in the complex!" Brann cries. "Come with me, all of ye who are able!"
Atley looks Brann Bronzebeard and nods, following.
Brann pushes forward, and those still capable can follow him deeper into the complex, into a planetarium. The circular, high-vaulted chamber of the Celestial Planetarium is paved with an unfamiliar material with a mirror like sheen, making the room seem to extend as deeply below as it is high above. “We did it, lads! We got here before Algalon's arrival. Maybe we can rig the systems to interfere with his analysis–”
Brann is cut off by a blinding flash. The Observer has arrived, a being of starlight.
He's like star-statues, but an actual person? Yveris stares. "Pretty…" she says.
In a cold, emotionless, voice, Algalon says, “Translocation complete. Commencing planetary analysis of Azeroth. Stand back, mortals. I'm not here to fight you. It is in the universe's best interest to re-originate this planet should my analysis find systemic corruption. Do not interfere.”
Brann stands back, watching Algalon with worry.
Atley twitches as the Observer appears and readies his stance, shield raising, before is lips part and he takes in their surroundings with guarded awe, green eyes roaming back and forth.
"Sorry, re-originate? What is that, exactly?" Almeiria asks.
"Start over…?" Atley growls with growing understanding.
Algalon does not seem to hear or care about Almeiria's question, or Dane's. He seems to run something, and then nods shortly. “Analysis complete. There is partial corruption in the planet's life-support systems as well as complete corruption in most of the planet's defense mechanisms. Begin uplink: Reply Code: 'Omega'. Planetary re-origination requested. Farewell, mortals. Your bravery is admirable, for such flawed creatures.”
Brann's mouth falls open for a moment, then he recovers.
“Just like that? No!” Brann cries, rushing forward. “I know Azeroth is no’ perfect, but ye’ve no idea how hard we’ve tried ta keep ‘er safe. We fought the Burning Legion twice, an’ survived. We’re on th’ verge o’ defeatin’ the Scourge. We defeated an Old God in Silithus, and again here in Ulduar.”
“An’ as for our people, we’re no’ flawed creatures. I’ve read the discs, an’ I understand we’re from th’ earthen, tha’ the dwarves only are what they are because o’ the Curse of Flesh. But we’re not tools. We’ve grown into more than you made us ta be, and we’ll fight to defend our home, to defend our right to exist here.”
The Observer, conformed like a living constellation, regards Brann coolly, but something gives him pause. "What you ask of me is illogical. Re-origination will resolve the corruption and satisfy the intention of the Makers. The Pantheon will receive the Observer's message."
"Excuse me? What if I don't want re-origination?" Almeiria objects.
"This is to be our last world," Pericleia says with quiet horror. "No - not like this."
Atley bellows, and points his sword. "No! This world is ours!" He looks around to the others in angry disbelief.
"Our friends, an' our families, an' we're — we are workin' on makin' the world better every day!" Ben protests. "There is nothin' someone can't turn around if they are tryin'."
Yveris tries to drag Pericleia to the front of the group. "Draenei," she says insistently. "Last world!" She points at her. Please mister Algalon, says her expression.
"You can't just consider logic when it comes to people," Sil says desperately. "We're not just a flawed world, we're a world of people of all different sorts, who might not understand each other but we work together all the same. And its not any one of us that's worth saving but it's all of us, because each person could be so much more than you can measure. For every Medivh there's a… an Uther Lightbringer. You can't put a value on a person's soul, 'cause they don't fit in your math."
Ben points at Sil. What he said.
Atley growls impatiently and starts looking around, perhaps for a way to kill the Observer. Somehow. "My son… Karson…" he mutters in desperate thought.
Cressidha seems speechless. She was probably not expecting to have to defend the right to keep existing on her world today. Finally, she rallies with, "We're people. We're people, and we live here. Azeroth isn't a toy for you to break and build a new one. You seeded life here. Let us live."
Almeiria, though drained, wears an assessing scowl that says she is also looking for a means to kill the Observer.
Isildyr looks frantically around. "Rora, be cute!" Rora rolls over onto her back, wiggling her raptor paws in the air. Isyldir points at her. "She's so cute! You can't kill her! She's too cute to die!"
Algalon raises his shining, translucent hand, studded with stardust, and appears to pause the uplink. "Enough. Accessing Keeper records. Accessing recent archives. Ahn'Qiraj complex. Burning Legion breach incidents. Breach sequela: Scourge. Divergent calculation: value of living soul, kinetic and potential. Consideration: Origin and trajectory of world, positive slope."
As the Observer apparently evaluates a variety of specific records, the floor and walls of the Planetarium appear to dissolve into a vast starfield of the Great Dark Beyond, without perceivable limit in any direction. Pinpoint lights and the streaming glow of an encircling galactic arm surround the group, and the moons seem almost close enough to reach.
Glints of power coalesce like the forms of more familiar Titan orb machinery encased in geometric lattices, but composed of the same translucent, astral character as Algalon. His luminous bearded face remains impassive under his hood and cloak of stars. From the corners of the eyes, pools of utter darkness from which imprecise shadows move and emerge are faintly perceptible.
It is disorienting to behold, like being suspended in the cosmos without anything solid and familiar on which to grasp. After a time, Algalon lowers his hand and bows his head, and the structures of the Planetarium slowly reassert themselves into view, returning all to the magnificent but more intelligible surrounding of Ulduar. "Enough. There are risks beyond your imagination to permit this planet to continue to develop. However."
Algalon considers the battered, weary people before him, and then the globe of Azeroth, dotted with corruption. “I have seen worlds bathed in the Makers' flames, their denizens fading without so much as a whimper. Entire planetary systems born and razed in the time that it takes your mortal hearts to beat once. Yet all throughout, my own heart devoid of emotion… of empathy. I. Have. Felt. Nothing. A million-million lives wasted. Had they all held within them your tenacity? Had they all loved life as you do?”
He looks over the army, as though they may have the answer, but then continues. “Perhaps it is your imperfections… that which grants you free will… that allows you to persevere against all cosmically calculated odds. You prevail where the Titan's own perfect creations have failed.”
The lights around him in the planetarium shimmer and change, and Algalon says, “I've rearranged the reply code - your planet will be spared. I cannot be certain of my own calculations anymore.”
Atley lifts a brow, square jaw going faintly slack as they're launched into the cosmos. He can't look at one place for long, and licks his lips, still on edge, even when he's brought back and Algalon announces a change of agenda.
Yveris crouches close to whatever it is exactly she's standing on as the scene shifts. She looks afraid. Even after it changes back, she gazes up at Algalon like he might suddenly do it again. "World…saved?" she asks meekly.
"Yes," Jo says, her eyes wide and her goggles pushed back on her forehead. "World saved."
"Good. I'm going home." Almeiria turns on her heel and begins to trudge out of the room.
Atley releases a heavy exhale and looks around at his comrades.
Everyone is worn out, and ready to go home. Azeroth is saved from more threats than one.