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| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | While the defenders guard the Aspects in their ritual at the top of Wyrmrest Temple, Deathwing decides it is time to send his so-called ultimate dragon to end them all and bring about the Hour of Twilight. Among those present are Almeiria, Ralaea, Anareline, Celaven, Jocoza, Auralind, Gwenivene, Ben, Shine, Brannagen, Caspis, Shun, and Velrin ~4300 words |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Various defenders are currently guarding the Aspects, up on the open top of Wyrmrest Temple. They’re not doing anything terribly interesting at the moment — simply sitting in a circle around the Dragon Soul, shimmering faintly each with their own magical energies, as they have been for the past week.
Shun leans against one of the pillars at the top of Wyrmrest while stealthed, overlooking the eastern front. Every so often, he'd glance back towards the Aspects to check in on any progress. It doesn't look like much to him though. He folds his arms over his chest as he lurks.
Jo is sitting a little ways outside the circle, watching the Aspects more than the perimeter. At her side are an assortment of explosives, which she is carefully checking one by one.
Ana stands at the edge, watching the south, and for the moment Celaven is just beside her, speaking in low Darnassian.
Shine is seated at the edge, his attention apparently distant, gazing at nothing in particular. Certainly not the orc in the circle of Aspects.
Ben paces a segment of the perimeter and back again, looking restless and alert.
Ralaea, too, is pacing, scanning the battlefield below them when she isn't watching for Deathwing. Which is rarely. She is always watching for Deathwing.
Caspis stands near Ana and Celaven, but his gaze is fixed almost eerily steadily on the Aspects, and has been for some time.
Velrin stands with Cas, Ana, and Ven holding her crescent in front of her. She waits patiently for the battle to come.
Bran paces wherever Ben isn't pacing, never looking at him directly but always seeming to choose a spot where they won't collide.
Almeiria is standing, but still, her gaze fixed on the Aspects as if she is trying to determine what, exactly, they are doing.
Auralind sits atop her usual perch — the stump of a fallen pillar — in a meditative pose. Her eyes are closed, ears flared wide to listen to the sounds of the battle.
Gwenivene loiters, uncertain just what to do with herself. Trying to make herself useful, she employs a bit of help to conjure up a table of refreshments.
Suddenly, on his next lap around the battlefield, Deathwing approaches the top of the temple directly. Ralaea, watching for him specifically, probably notices the approach first.
He addresses the Dragon Queen in his booming voice. “It is good to see you again, Alexstrasza. I have been busy…in my absence. Twisting your pitiful whelps into mindless abominations, bend only to my will. It was a very…painful process.”
On cue, twilight drakes, flickering in and out of incorporeality, approach to surround the platform. The Aspects rise and shimmer in magical shields. Rather than breaking their ritual, they begin to each send their own power arcing into the Dragon Soul.
Caspis roars in rage, transforming into the shaggy black Doomkin.
Jo startles to her feet, blinking at the sudden display of the Aspects' power before turning to the drakes and Deathwing.
Velrin raises her weapon and snarls.
Anareline steps hastily back from the edge, reaching for Celaven and Caspis to make sure they do as well. No family getting snatched by drakes today, thank you very much.
Ralaea tries to throw a bomb at Deathwing.
Deathwing might have anticipated something like that. He hovers just out of range.
Shine doesn't rise to his feet, but simply slips out of sight where he sat.
Ben draws his shield and moves to put himself in front of one of the twilight drakes.
Bran tags along behind Ben, his gaze roving the entire area.
As the big bad dragon goes on to approach, Shun pushes off from the pillar and draws his weapons silently, still cloaked and invisible. He looks around as the twilight drakes make their appearance and readies himself for once they get within range.
Shine silently admires Rae's initiative. And optimism.
"Should've mounted cannons up here…" Ralaea mutters.
As soon as the Aspects begin their ritual, Auralind has Rhok'delar in hand. Whispering a prayer to Elune, she channels the Mother's arcane moonfire through her arrows, peppering the Destroyer with missiles. It may not do much, but it might distract him from interfering in the ritual.
One of the arrows pings off an elementium plate, and Deathwing shifts slightly further back in annoyance.
Atley has been staring out over the battlefield, waiting, when Deathwing approached. He drew his shield and Thunderfury in an instant, marching forward to stand on the opposite side of the platform from Ben.
“Circle up! Backs to the center.”
“They are…my clutch no longer,” Alexstrasza says in a grim voice. She turns her gaze to the defending fighters. “Bring them down.”
The drakes dart closer, one by one, each spewing purple twilight flame onto the platform in a line that clings to the ground and continues to burn any within it.
Caspis moves Atley's order, shifting toward the center of the space facing outward, keeping Atley in his field of vision as he prepares a powerful spell.
Bran casts a Renew on Ben, then Atley, and tries to keep his eyes on both.
Ralaea swipes angrily at any drake that comes close enough. "Why is everything always fire these days?"
"Fire is very powerful," Jo says, her eyes still on the drakes, as she sends out another fireball.
Ben flings a hammer of Light outward at the drake he faces, and follows it with the brilliant blast of an exorcism. The drake throws its shadowy head up, its wings stilling; it falls gracelessly away.
Shine has grenades. He has throwing knives. Neither seems like a great option at this distance. He circles the perimeter silently, waiting for an unwary drake to get cocky and move too close.
A cocky drake approaches the platform with confidence, clearly aiming its flames to engulf the Aspects in their ritual.
Shine is on the case. A knife sprouts suddenly from the drake's eye, and then a second from its throat.
That drake didn't even get to use its flame. It falls, wailing.
Celaven follows up Bran's renew with shields on Ben and Dane, and then on his mother.
Anareline draws her sword and sidesteps a line of purple fire. As the drake swoops in towards her, she strikes at one wing. It wheels away and then plunges towards the ground far below.
Almeiria seems to take great pleasure in bringing down drakes one by one, assaulting their minds with painful, twisted shadows.
A searing ray of orange sunlight streaks from Caspis's clawed moonkin hands, setting another drake's wing aflame.
Anareline falls back to Caspis's side, ready to slash at any drake that tries to eliminate the source of that searing sunlight.
Dane licks his lips with concentration, giving Thunderfury and idle spin as he locks eyes onto one of the many drakes.
He dodges to the side to avoid the trail of incineration the drake leaves behind, only to leap through the purple flames, sword raised high, slicing the head off of the drake in the middle of the strafing run.
The body and head both silently, gracefully fall to the ground.
Velrin darts and weaves across the battlefield, doing her best to avoid the dragon's flames while striking at their exposed underbellies as they fly past.
Jo keeps her eyes on the drakes unreachable by the melee, tossing pyroblasts and flamebolts. By the time they approach, they're already well-scorched.
More drakes close in on the platform, clearly tasked with stopping whatever it is the Aspects are doing.
Ben raises his shield against another gout of shadowflame, and a prayer of [Divine Guardian] unfolds over those nearest to him.
Dane swings Thunderfury at a passing Drake, sending a thunderbolt cracking off after it [Heroic Throw] “They’re testing for weakness! Stand firm!” [Battle Shout].
Gwenivene stands near the Aspects, surrounded in a mana shield. She keeps an eye out for any Twilight drakes that get too close, and gives them a faceful of arcane energy so they'll think twice!
The remaining drakes, having met with zero success in this endeavour, fall back. Deathwing laughs and shouts, “Mere whelps, experiments. A means to a greater end. You will see what the research of my clutch has yielded. Nefarian, Onyxia, Sinestra? They were nothing! Now you face my ultimate creation. The Hour of Twilight is nigh, the sun sets on your pitiful mortal existence.”
Ysera stirs in the circle and raises her head. “I sense a great disturbance in the balance approaching. The chaos of it burns my mind!”
Atley glances back over his shoulder and narrows his eyes at first Ysera, then Deathwing, before he goes back to looking ahead, awaiting whatever lies in store, jaw set.
"I don't know what that means, but maybe don't think at it too hard?" Ralaea calls back.
“Something’s coming. Stay sharp.” Dane translates.
Velrin acknowledges Dane's warning by taking a place near him and slipping into the shadows, ready to follow his next charge.
Caspis lets out a low moonkin warning sound, seeming to sense something as well.
"Let's get this party started!" Bran calls, and then casts a prayer of Fortitude on those nearby.
Ben waits, shield still upraised warily, scanning the sky.
Shine moves to take up position… near Alexstrasza, actually, and gazes watchfully outward.
Dane looks to the side and spots Shine’s relocating. He grunts briefly with acknowledgement before looking back to the front, nodding at the man whether his gaze is noticed or not.
A massive, winged shape rises from below the level of the top of the temple, having approached incorporeally and out of sight.
“I am the beginning of the end…the shadow which blots out the sun…the bell which tolls your doom…” cries a massive dragon, the deep purple of twilight. There is suddenly lightning across the sky, and the whole sky darkens as he draws the battlefield into the Twilight Realm. “For this moment ALONE was I made. Look upon your death, mortals, and despair! Now is the Hour of Twilight!”
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Shun sighs.
Caspis begins gathering golden light between his clawed and feathered hands once again; his moonkin eyes grow the same golden-orange shade.
Dane glares and growls lowly through clenched teeth as Ultraxion arrives. “Form up. All together,” he says sternly, but it’s nowhere near the yell from earlier. He deliberately treads closer, shield raised, to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ben.
Anareline takes up position in between the Aspects and the massive dragon. She moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ben and Dane.
Dane looks to Anareline very briefly and nods, reluctant to take his eyes off of Ultraxion.
Ralaea promptly throws a bomb at this dragon.
This bomb hits, and the dragon roars. How dare you punctuate its dramatic monologue in such a manner!
Almeiria breathes deeply, staring up at the purple hues of the sky, her own shadows darkening, swelling in response.
Bran gets into formation without seeming to pay much attention; his gaze is still sweeping the entire area around the combatants and the huge drake.
Caspis has to focus on Dane and Ana's position and do some clear mental math about where he ought to stand to best be protected.
Celaven shields Caspis again, just in case, and then glances at Almeiria and up at the purple sky. His expression is serious.
Shun grunts as he falls in line, though he seems less than thrilled about it.
Shine says something under his breath when the sky turns purple. His tone is very mild. He also looks disinclined to fall in line, and remains where he is, on guard near Alexstrasza. He's not a lines guy.
Twilight energy arcs out from Ultraxion’s hide, arcing painfully through the entire group. Then, a few seconds later, it does so again. This is gonna be a continuing thing.
Auralind positions herself behind Dane and the other front-liners. Her attention now focuses on this new Twilight doom, following up Ralaea's bomb with a barrage of arcane arrow shot.
Moonkin-Caspis bellows in pain as the energy arcs through him.
Bran curses loudly in Dwarven.
Atley braces himself and grinds his teeth as he’s struck with Twilight energy, raising his shield in vain. “The Hour of Twilight is canceled!“ he booms before charging to the edge of the platform to strike at Ultraxion’s snout.
Velrin isn't far behind and leaps over his head, striking at Ultraxion from another angle simultaneously.
Ben hisses through his teeth and casts another [Divine Guardian] prayer across the group.
Shine flinches and then seems to wrap himself in shadows and fade back.
Shun vanishes from view briefly before reappearing over the dragon's neck. Both daggers come plunging down from above.
Jo yelps at the lightning, and then resumes the fire-casting.
Anareline charges in at Dane's side, stoically enduring the lightning.
Celaven is shielding as many people as possible.
“Strength of the Earth, hear my call! Shield them in this dark hour, the last defenders of Azeroth!” Thrall calls, and Ben, Anareline and Dane feel suddenly more durable.
"I can hold out for an hour just fine," Ralaea calls to the dragon. "And then it'll be over, and you Twilight people will be gone."
"Er'… we're nae the last… are we?" Bran murmurs to himself.
Dane widens his eyes as he feels the boon flow through him. He weathers another burst of dark energy much easier than before, and proceeds to fiercely strike and slash at Ultraxion’s maw to try and keep it focused on the frontline fighters. “Bring it down!“ he yells. [Commanding Shout]
Ultraxion focuses his attention on Dane.
“Let us assist you in your healing,” Ysera calls out, and her green energy settles on Celaven.“In dreams, we may overcome any obstacle.”
Celaven breathes in, surprised by the rush of power. He heals Ben, and a second heal arcs to Dane as well.
“Yes, take heart, heroes, life will always blossom from the darkest soil!” Alexstrasza calls, and Brannagen is shrouded with life energy.
"Oh, thank ye madam!" Bran calls cheerily to the Aspect of Life.
Ralaea makes a face at Alextrasza's words. She may be recalling the Wrathgate.
Atley scowls with satisfaction as he maintains eye contact with Ultraxion, and continues to swing Thunderfury at the abomination. He keeps his shield at the ready, raised and poised. [Shield Wall] [Spell Reflect]
“Winds of the arcane be at their backs, and refresh them in this hour of darkness!” Kalecgos calls, and Gwenivene crackles with friendly arcane power. "Trust me, this power will not harm you."
Gwen gasps aloud, feeling the sudden rush of power, like she's connected to the arcane in a way she's never felt before. "Cheese and crackers!" she exclaims, glancing back at Kalecgos with a blushing smile. "I trust you." She turns her attention back to the massive Twilight dragon, shaking her head. "Not today, big fella." She grits her teeth and opens herself to the arcane — like a dam bursting, the energy bursts through her in powerful blasts, hammering at the dragon.
Bran casts a Renew on Dane, seeing Ultraxion's focus, and the pulses of healing seem to hit twice as hard as usual.
"Nice," Bran murmurs to himself.
“The cycle of time brings an end to all things,” Nozdormu says, and sands of time settle on the entire group. The feeling might be similar to what those who went to the End Time experienced – the sense that if something terrible happens, time will rewind.
Caspis cries out words of reverent, nigh-ecstatic gratitude in Darnassian at the feel of Nozdormu's power settling over him.
Jo looks over at the dragons in awe, and then back to Ultraxion, with determination. "No hours of twilight today, thank you very much."
Atley’s broad shoulders seem to widen even further as he feels all of the Aspect’s buffs. He doubles down on his onslaught, and yells out, “Pour it on ‘em! Everything you’ve got! Unleash!“
"Tor ilisar thera'nal!" Velrin seconds Dane's warcry with her own.
Gwenivene is relentless. Connected directly to the arcane, she unleashes an endless barrage of arcane power at Ultraxion. Her body is aglow in bright blue and violet energy, her feet no longer touching the ground as she is lifted a few inches by the raw power.
Ultraxion strikes at Ben, Dane, and Ana with his powerful claws, but he does not seem to have the range to reach that very painful glowing blue lady. She is out of reach.
Atley is struck by Ultraxion’s massive claws, but thanks to the Aspect’s boon, he doesn’t go flying off the ledge. He grunts deeply and loudly, weathering the blow, before he continues to press his attacks.
Ultraxion begins to draw light out of Almeiria and Shun, leaving them feeling suddenly fragile and probably doomed.
Almeiria, feeling her power slipping away, probably glares at the dragon, and pulls what remains to her closer, fighting to resist the dragon's siphon.
“Step out of the Twilight,” Alexstrasza calls. “Feel the strength of your heart, and pull yourself out.”
Shun falters as he feels his strength and determination. He looks over as Alextrasza calls out. What strength of heart? He gives a half-hearted stab down.
Almeiria is only able to resist the Twilight Realm for a few seconds, but it is enough to clear the sense of impending doom, and the siphon stops.
Shun does not make it out of the Twilight, and his form crumples to the floor —- or does it? Suddenly, it's as if nothing ever happened. Shun is perfectly fine. There's a faint shimmer of sand around him for a moment.
Shun blinks for a few moments after returning. This is the second time he's been un-deathed via time. Shaking his head, he launches away from Ultraxion briefly while lobbying a set of knives on the way back to regroup.
Ultraxion looks furious at the thwarting of his attack.
“The final shred of light fades, and with it, your pitiful mortal existence!” Ultraxion calls, and an orb of deepest twilight pulses and grows in front of him.
“Heroes,” Alexstrasza says. “That orb means death to you, and to us. Pull yourselves out of Twilight… but, one of you at least must remain, or all will be lost.”
Bran looks around. Not it.
Celaven is frantically healing, and the doubling of his spells is only barely keeping up with the pace of the constant lightning. He catches Bran's gaze and also shakes his head. Not a healer job.
Atley looks between the Twilight Orb and his comrades before settling on Alexstrasza. A lifetime of deliberation seems to pass through his gaze in the span of a second. “Go on, then! I’m staying,” he barks.
Shun, now better understanding what's going on, digs in deep. He is nothing if not incredibly stubborn (ask Estel). He pulls away from the orb.
Celaven shimmers out of the Twilight.
Jo has no problem reaching that strength of heart.
Anareline steps back toward Caspis. They go together, or not.
Caspis changes into his elven form. "No, shan'var," he says raggedly. "You have young children. Ana and I will go."
Dane feverishly shakes his head. "They'll need you to heal the world! Get out of here! That's a facking order, Caspis!"
"We are protected," Ana says, glancing at Nozdormu. "Perhaps with more of us here we will endure."
Ben casts a prayer of [Divine Protection] over Dane, and then draws back out of the Twilight.
Shine doesn't move. Whether this is deliberate or not is not evident in his manner, which is focused wholly and impassively on the dragon.
"Oh, yes, by all means, argue about who make the noble sacrifice," Almeiria mutters. "Make sure the most people die. That will save the world." She phases out of the twilight in disgust.
Caspis, in no mood for snark at a life-or-death moment, aims a snarl at Almeiria before returning his gaze to Dane. Caspis is torn between his desire to follow Dane's order and his desire to save him, but in the end, he cannot disrespect his order. He seizes Ana's arm and pulls her away, tears pooling in his eyes.
Time seems to slow as Dane makes eye contact with Caspis, and gives a faint and brief nod of reassurance.
Ralaea, too, gathers her willpower and phases out of the Twilight realm.
Ana reaches her hands up to frame Caspis's face, trying to capture his gaze, to phase out of Twilight together.
Caspis gazes at her, ears drooping and tears streaming down his face - but where she goes, he goes.
Atley refocuses on Ultraxion and doubles down on his attacks. "Get out of here, Shine!" he snarls.
Shine flashes one swift step across the roof to throw a knife flashing at the dragon's head. He does not linger to see whether it strikes; he is gone.
The orb explodes, but it does not hit the Aspects. Dane takes the brunt of the explosion with his life, shielding the ongoing ritual.
As it explodes, Atley's shield shatters into a thousand pieces. Thunderfury flies off and away into the distance like a discarded toothpick. His body ragdolls, flying backwards and slamming into a collapsed column in a smaller explosion of rendered gear.
Time reverses, and he's placed back onto his feet as his shield comes together on his arm and Thunderfury flies back into his hand.
Mere seconds later, everyone is pulled back into the Twilight Realm by Ultraxion's power, just in time to see the sands of time swirling around Dane, who is now seemingly unharmed.
Ana lets out a sigh of relief at Dane's living form, and turns to Caspis. "The Aspects protect us, as they can. Now we must protect them."
Dane slowly shakes his head in astonishment, relying upon the other frontliners to hold up his end as he regains his senses.
Caspis lets out another murmur of almost giddy praise for Nozdormu in Darnassian, then changes back into Doomkin form to burn some dragon.
Lightning is arcing much more quickly now, as blood drips from the 'ultimate' dragon's multitude of wounds.
“Now, before he can do anything else, slay him!” Alexstrasza calls.
Shine's gaze goes first to Dane and then swivels grimly back to the dragon.
Ben moves to Dane's side again with his shield ready, wings of Light at his shoulders. He hurls his hammer.
"Oh I'd love to!" Bran grumbles as he dutifully continues flinging double-powered heals instead.
Caspis-doomkin gathers silver-lilac energy, this time, arcane moonlight, his eyes shifting to match.
Dane belatedly jumps back into the fight, his attacks growing stronger and more precise with each swing.
Ralaea goes for the dragon's throat, her swords seeking vulnerabilities as she drives for a killing blow.
Almeiria glances over Dane in silence, and, satisfied with whatever she sees, recommences her attack.
Every time the dragon opens its mouth, Auralind looses another moonlight-infused arrow toward its gullet.
Gwenivene can no longer be seen within the blinding nimbus of violet energy surrounding her. For a moment, she gathers it in, and one can just make out the glowing silhouette of the young sorceress…then she erupts in a massive barrage of power, as if unleashing a ley line directly at Ultraxion.
Ultraxion cannot endure this level of attack. As the ultimate twilight dragon falls to the snow below, he cries in a plaintive voice. “But…but…I am…Ul…trax…ionnnnnn…”
Velrin remains still and keeps her weapon at the ready until she's convinced that the battle is truly over.
Bran bursts out laughing.
Dane takes one step forward to watch Ultraxion fall to the ground, catching his breath with a scowl. He raises a bracer to dab at his mouth with a small growl.
Shun shadowsteps back to the dragon's position after the explosion goes off. He aims for wounds others have already created.
Anareline steps back, breathing hard.
Jo lets her fires fizzle out. Then she hears Bran laughing, and it is infectious. She giggles.
Celaven glances back at the unharmed Aspects and nods in relief.
As Gwenivene's light fades, she falls to the temple floor. Her knees give out and she crumples, panting breathlessly. "Did we win…?"
Padrick chirps triumphantly.
Dane grunts at Gwen, turning to inspect everyone, gaze eventually settling on the Aspects.
"But… but… I am… Ultraaaxion…" Bran whines theatrically, wiping tears of mirth.
Caspis stares at Bran irritably.
Dane shifts gaze to Caspis before allowing a small, dark, knowing smirk to take his features. He scoffs with shared amusement and a light shake of his head.
Suddenly, the arcing energies of the Aspects cease, and the Dragon Soul hovers before everyone, shining bright with barely-contained energy.
"Yes," Alexstrasza says quietly. "It is done. Our power now resides within the Dragon Soul,” Alexstrasza says. She turns to Thrall. “Our fate lies with you, Earth Warder.”
Bran sobers somewhat, gazing at the Dragon Soul with intense academic interest.
Shun glances between the Dragon Soul and Thrall and just furrows his brow.
“Taretha…Cairne…Aggra…I will not fail you. I will not fail this world!” Thrall says firmly, stepping forward to take the artifact in his hands.
Caspis does not seem super thrilled with the reverence the Aspects are showing this orc.
Dane snaps his gaze to the Aspects and glares attentively at the Dragon Soul, squinting faintly at the brightness of it.
Thrall aims the Dragon Soul at Deathwing and fires. A beam of light shoots out towards the fallen Aspect, and then it strikes him, damaging his elementium armor. He nearly falls, but then recovers, wheeling wildly. As he circles around, he smashes the nearby Horde zeppelin to pieces, before winging off into the clouds.