Molten Core - Where's Warmonger? (Part 11)

By the time we got back to Undercity, I had filled Glenys in on every little bit of information I had learned from my studies in the library, and my field trip to Lord Hydraxis. I showed her my grisly collection of hands, and told her all about Shazzrah’s history. She seemed quite fascinated.

Eventually I decided I would have to tell her of my suspicions.

“Glenys…” I began.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Uh… nothing.” I couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not until I had found out for sure.

Glenys smiled her little smile. “Ok then! It’s about time I got to bed, anyway. Bye Conundrum!”

“Night, Glenys.” I muttered, distracted. It wasn’t time for me to go to sleep just yet.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The cold night air rushed past me as I rode the Wind Rider over the Hillsbrad Foothills. I had to find out, even though I was almost certain I was right. As I flew, I thought more and more about Plaugeis and Lovick, about the ‘relationship’ they shared. The beginnings of a plan formed in the back of my mind.

As the Wind Rider swooped in for a graceful landing in the town of Hammerfall, in the Arathi Highlands, I knew exactly what had to be done. I dismounted quickly and ran to the Trauma Ward, in the south-western corner of the small town. I barged through the door to the small building.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing??” hissed Doctor Gregory Victor, head doctor of the Hammerfall Trauma Ward. “These patients are trying to sleep!”

The doctor made a large sweeping gesture, indicating the neat rows of sleeping mats, most full with patients, probably injured fighting the Alliance in nearby Arathi Basin.

“This is a matter of great importance,” I said quickly. “Do you have a patient here by the name of Warmonger?”

The doctor quickly scanned his clipboard, then looked up and shook his head.

“No, we’ve never had a patient named Warmonger signed in here,” he said.

“Thankyou,” I said, and hurried back out of the building into the cold darkness, my suspicions confirmed. Lovick had been lying about Warmonger’s whereabouts. But I still had no solid proof – for all I knew, Lovick may have believed Warmonger to be there.

Next I had to track down Warmonger… where could he be? I flew back to the Undercity, preparing to scry for Warmonger’s location.

Scrying is a ritual used to locate someone’s life force – in order for it to succeed, I would need 4 things. The first thing was a belonging of Warmonger’s – something tied to his life force. The second was a map of Azeroth. The third was a priest – to bless the scrying item. And the fourth was a mage – to infuse the map with arcane power, to make it tune into the life forces of all the denizens of Azeroth.

The first thing I did upon arriving in the Undercity was send an express messenger to Thunder Bluff – which cost me more than a few gold at this time of night. The messenger was to find and wake Shamy, Warmonger’s brother, and tell him to send me something of Warmonger’s as soon as possible via the messenger.

The second thing I did was to find Glenys’ room in the Undercity, and wake her up. I then found Bosun, an undead mage, and took them both to the Undercity Library.

Once there, I pulled down the huge map of Azeroth from the top shelf, and spread it over two tables, and told the confused and tired pair to wait near the map for a couple of minutes.

I then ran to the Bat master in the Trade Quarter of the Undercity and waited anxiously for the messenger’s return. After about two minutes, he returned, and handed me a pendant which belonged to Warmonger.

“Perfect,” I said, and handed the messenger the other half of his fee. “Thanks.”

“No problem, mon!” the cheerful troll replied, dropping the shiny gold coins into his bag.

I stuck the pendant unceremoniously into my pocket, and ran back to the library.

“Ok!” I panted to Glenys and Bosun. “Here’s what’s going on. Lovick’s been lying to everyone. Warmonger isn’t at the Hammerfall Trauma Ward, he never has been. So now we’re gonna find out where he is. This pendant,” I said, holding up the piece of jewellery, “belongs to Warmonger. Glenys, I want you to bless this.”

I handed the pendant to Glenys, who tiredly started the ritual of blessing.

“Bosun, you’ve got to infuse this map with arcane power. Then we can scry for Warmonger.”

Not asking why, Bosun began to channel power into the map. When both rituals were complete, I took the pendant from Glenys, and held it directly over the centre of the map, and began swinging it around slowly, like a pendulum.

The pendant started glowing pure white, then, like a powerful magnet, attached itself to a point on the map. As the glow died down, I we all stared at the place the pendant had indicated.

“What the…” mumbled Bosun.

“What does that mean?” asked Glenys, still sleepy.

“It means… it means that’s where Warmonger is.” I replied, still confused by what the map was showing us.

“Ohh…” mumbled Bosun. “This is intense. I need a pot pie.” Bosun sighed. “Where’s Bootstrap when you need him?”

“Thanks for the help,” I said. “But now I need to go and find Warmonger.

“Ok!” said Bosun, and turned around. “Time for me to get some sleep…” he yawned, and it seemed as if he was going to fall asleep on the spot.

“I’m coming with you,” Glenys said after Bosun had left. “Warmonger and I are really good friends. If he’s in danger, I’m coming.”

I sighed. “Ok then. Let’s go.”

We ran over to the Bat Master, and told him what we needed.

“What?” he exclaimed, looking shocked. “Well, if you really need to go there, we can take you as far as Gadgetzan. You’ll have to make your own way from there.”

“Ok then,” I said, and we both hopped aboard the massive bats. “Thanks,” I said, handing him the fee for the flight.

It was a long flight, not to mention an expensive one. These bats, trained to fly extra long distances for inter-continental travel, were the only two of their kind in all of Azeroth. When we eventually reached Gadgetzan, the moon was already halfway set.

“To get to this island, we’ll need to travel quickly, or we’ll collapse from exhaustion,” I told Glenys.

“Ah! Follow me!” she said. She ran into Gadgetzan, and found a shady merchant in a back alley. “Three please,” I heard her whisper, and then she handed over some gold, and re-emerged from the alley.

“Ok, we’re set!” Glenys said, and then got onto her Skeletal Warhorse. I summoned my Felsteed, and we were on our way.

We rode all the way to the very south of Tanaris, over the mountains in the south, until we reached the shore. In the distance I could vaguely make out a small island.

“That’s it,” I said. “Now how do you plan to get us over there?”

“Drink this,” Glenys replied, and handed me a small vial with glowing green liquid inside of it. I pulled out the cork, and sniffed the liquid. It smelt of sea salt and brine. It tasted even worse. But once the whole thing was inside me, I felt my body change – my feel elongated into flippers.

“Ok, let’s go!” said Glenys, who had sprouted similar growths. She jumped into the water and began swimming – very fast. I followed suit.

We swam for a good ten minutes, and just when I thought my legs were going to drop off and I would sink to the bottom of this very deep ocean, we reached land.

“Ok, this is it…” I mumbled.

Glenys and I walked cautiously up the dark, shell littered beach, until we saw the faint glimmer of a campfire. So, there’s someone living here. As we carefully approached the faint light…

“Who’s there?” rasped a voice, harsh from lack of use. “Show yourself! Zarano? Is that you?”

Glenys and I looked at each other. Zarano? What does he have to do with this?

I poked my head over the sand dune, and saw Warmonger, chained to a pole next to the campfire. It looked as though he had not eaten in weeks.

“Warmonger!!” Glenys shouted, and leapt to her feet. She ran over to Warmonger before I could stop her.

“No Glenys!” Warmonger shouted. “Stop!!”

But Glenys didn’t stop; she ran up and embraced Warmonger enthusiastically.

“It’s sooo good to see you!” Glenys sobbed.

“Glenys! Get out of here!” Warmonger rasped.

“Oh, I don’t think Glenys will be going anywhere…” said a new voice. Glenys whipped around, and I peered over from my still-hidden position. Zarano had emerged from behind another dune.

“Zarano! You leave Glenys alone! She has nothing to do with this!” Warmonger shouted.

“Oh, but she knows too much,” Zarano said, in a strange voice. “But, I don’t think Glenys figured this out all by herself… who helped you, my dear?”

“Noone!” Glenys lied.

“Ah, there’s no room for bravado here, dearest Glenys.” Zarano muttered, eyes darting from Warmonger to Glenys. He seemed nervous. The firelight flickering on his face gave him an ethereal feel. “Now, tell me who helped you… or you won’t be leaving this island alive!”

“I’ll never tell you!” Glenys shouted defiantly.

Then I saw my chance. As quietly as possible, I snuck around behind Zarano, and then stood up quietly. I had always thought of Zarano as a friend, but now I knew what had to be done. I summoned a ball of shadow energy to my hands… and fired it at Zarano’s back. Karnar hopped behind Warmonger’s pole and burnt through the ropes that bound him there, and then Warmonger leapt up with a grace that belied his large stature and placed his hoof squarely on Zarano’s chest.

“Who put you up to this??” Warmonger and I demanded at the same time. Unlike Warmonger however, I already knew the answer.

“L-Lovick,” Zarano spluttered. “Now let me go!”

“I don’t think we can do that.” I said bluntly. “We can’t allow you to roam free, after what you’ve done to Warmonger.”

I grabbed one the last of the potions from Glenys, told Warmonger to keep Zarano still, then swam back to shore and rode quickly back to Gadgetzan. Within minutes of my arrival, I had safely summoned – or to put it more accurately, forced – Zarano from the distant island into the large cage in the centre of Gadgetzan. That would have to do until more suitable arrangements could be made.

I then summoned Warmonger and Glenys, and we began our way back to the Undercity…

Molten Core - Fighting Shazzrah (Part 10)

I arrived at Kargath feeling uncharacteristically tired. Oldtimer sprinted up to me, looking as excited and energetic as ever.

“Conundrum!” he said, almost hyperactively. “Finally! Where have you been? Lovick was getting worried.”

Lovick had become such a permanent fixture of our raids that I barely even thought of Warmonger, apparently resting up in Hammerfall. Instead I half-heartedly called forth my Felsteed and hopped on.

“Wouldn’t want that happening…” I said. It was meant to sound sarcastic, but I was too tired to put much effort into the tone of my voice as I started along the familiar road into the Searing Gorge.

Oldtimer rode up beside me on his brilliant green raptor. “You’re not your usual cheerful self today!” he said, then laughed at his own joke. “Hey, when you gonna go and steal a Dreadsteed, anyway?”

“When I’m good and ready…” I said drowsily. “Want me to sic Karnar on you?”

“Uh… no thanks,” Oldtimer said nervously, and steered his raptor a bit further away from me. “So, what did you find out last night?”

“What, the knowledge banks of Oldtimer the Great have drawn a black?” I said, a mock shocked look on my face.

“Awww, come on Conundrum, don’t be like that…” Oldtimer said, then looked at me with pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“Ok then,” I sighed, “I discovered a lot about Shazzrah’s past. Basically she used to be a mage, and now she’s a monster.”

“Oh…” said Oldtimer. He jumped off his raptor and headed inside the massive wrought-iron gates of Blackrock Mountain. “So… late night, huh?”

“You could say that,” I murmured as we wandered along the massive chain holding Forgewrights Tomb in place. “But… I feel kind of strange, too.”

“You look strange,” Oldtimer commented helpfully. “Like… you’re glowing, almost. But not really. Like a half-glow… sorta…” Oldtimer trailed off, a puzzled look on his face as he searched for the right words.

“What are you talking about??” I asked in exasperation.

“Well, it’s like you’re glowing, right? But there’s no light coming from you. So you’re not really glowing.”

“Riiiight…” I said, growing bored of the conversation. I reached out and touched the Rift Crystal, but nothing could have prepared me for what awaited inside…

“CONUNDRUM!!” Lovick’s face screamed from half an inch away from my face. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??”

“Sleeping.” I said simply, and pushed past Lovick. Lovick grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around.

“That’s not good enough! Do you understand me? We’ve been waiting and waiting for a whole 5 minutes for you to get here!”

“YEAH!” shouted a loud, familiar voice from the other side of the cave. “WHERE YA BIN, CONUNDRUM?”

I heard a loud slap, then a whispered voice, “leave him alone, Shamy! Look at him, he’s exhausted!”

Turning back to Lovick I said, “Yeah, ok, it won’t happen again… sir.”

Now feeling annoyed as well as tired, I wandered over and took up my place in the raid as Xain began to shoot the first Giant. Worthog had passed away in an unfortunate wind rider accident, along with Leftout and Pyroblade. My first spell almost misfired into a mage’s back when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Conundrum?” It was Glenys.

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry about Shamy. He’s always like that.”

I managed a weak laugh. “Hey,” I said, “thanks for sticking up for me.”

“No problem!” Glenys said, a huge smile once again gracing her face. “Now watch out, Bigulet is about to die!”

I watched for a moment as Glenys saved the young mage’s life, then returned to combat.

After fighting through all the usual monstrosities, we arrived back at the place where Baron Geddon used to roam. We killed a few more groups of elementals, until the path to Shazzrah was clear. I walked as close to Shazzrah as I dared, and she turned to look at me. My eyes were drawn to hers – she seemed profoundly interested in me.

Conundrum… I heard my name, and looked around quickly.

No, Conundrum. It is me, Shazzrah. I stared in shock at Shazzrah for a moment, wondering if Oldtimer was camouflaged nearby, playing a trick on me.

It is no trick, Conundrum…thought Shazzrah.

You can read my thoughts? I asked, not daring to believe.

Yes. You are infused with Arcane power. But Conundrum, we do not have time for idle chat. I must ask something of you.

What do you ask of me? I thought, half knowing what she would request.

You must defeat Ragnaros, and you must defeat him soon. His power grows, and soon he will be awakened by Majordomo. If Ragnaros is allowed to gain his full power before being awakened, he will break free of his bonds, and wreak havoc upon Azeroth. I would so hate to see my home destroyed…

I detected the real sadness in this thought, and realised I was not talking to the monster I saw in front of me. I was talking to the mage, the person who had lain buried beneath this façade for so long.

I will do this. I replied. But in order for us to complete this task…we must…kill you. As I thought this, there was a twang of sorrow in my heart. To kill someone so innocent, who was pulled into circumstances beyond her control…

I understand the sacrifice, Conundrum. Now, hurry. I would allow you to kill me, but I am no longer in control of this…monstrosity of a body. This body will fight you and your comrades. Go now, and destroy me. I am a monstrosity!!

After this last sentence, Shazzrah’s mind descended into gibberish as the last vestiges of her human mind were crushed by Ragnaros’ will.

“Rest in peace, Shazzrah of Dalaran.” I muttered under my breath, then turned and ran back to join my comrades in Garr’s final resting place.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Xain lured Shazzrah through the tunnel, the same way as Baron Geddon had been the day before. It was a mere second before I witnessed the famous Arcane Explosion. It truly was massive.

Shazzrah seemed to have retained a few other mage skills as well – she could still teleport through space in the blink of an eye, and dispel magic from herself.

To avoid the massive explosions, we formed into a circle around her, and blasted her from the sidelines. Unfortunately, the melee attackers weren’t able to get close enough to use their swords and maces – so instead, I had Oldtimer stand behind me and bandage my wounds while I was fighting.

“You know, some people get paid a lot of money for this…” he grumbled, applying a bandage to my side.

“Shh…” I said distractedly, focussing on my spell. I cast a spell which would transfer life energy from Shazzrah to myself, then said the words of Doom and inflicted that curse upon Shazzrah.

We came close to losing it a few times, when Shazzrah would teleport into the middle of a group of people and blast them with her explosion, but Lovick always managed to get Shazzrah back in the middle of the circle – with some help from Lightfoot and Ghorak.

Eventually Shazzrah’s mindless body collapsed, just as her mind had done less than an hour earlier. I walked across, took out my dagger, and severed her hand to add to my collection. Only one left now.

As we left Molten Core for another day, Glenys walked up beside me.

“What were you doing before?” she asked innocently. “When you were staring at Shazzrah?”

“Uh… nothing…” I lied.

“Yeah, sure, nothing…” Glenys said, rolling her eyes. “You’re a really bad liar, you know that?” She smiled, and I returned it.

“I’ll tell you all about it on the way back to Undercity…”

Molten Core - Shazz Story 2 (Part 9b)

Standing between Shazzrah and the road back to Dalaran was… was… a creature who looked just like Lucifron! I did not know the creature’s name, but I did know that it wasn’t Lucifron – this creature was obviously male.

“Hello… Shazzrah,” the beast muttered, as if struggling to speak this language. “I am… Majordomo Executus. You are a promising young mage…” Shazzrah sat, stunned, on her horse, which was obviously panicking. Despite its calm exterior, the steeds nostrils were flaring and its eyes were rolling back in its head – it was only staying where it was due to the uncanny trust it had for its master.

“What… what do you want?” stuttered Shazzrah. I didn’t know it, but this was the first time in her life Shazzrah had been truly scared. “And how do you know my name? And just what are you?” she added, as an afterthought.

“Please, Shazzrah. You are famous! You are a household name! What am I? What do I want? You will find that out soon enough.”

“You did this!” Shazzrah said, realisation dawning on her face. “It was a trap! You attacked the camp, murdered men, women and children, to lure me out here!”

“I knew you were a bright one…” Majordomo muttered. “You will do well. Follow me.”

“No.” said Shazzrah flatly. “You not only murdered them, your burnt them, tortured them! I will not do what you want.”

“I think you will find it hard to resist!” said Majordomo, and began to laugh, a harsh, horrible sound. I turned and looked at Shazzrah… but I recoiled immediately, taking an involuntary step backwards. Her eyes… they were grey. Grey, and sunken, and… strangely dead. They were not the eyes of the living. They were the eyes of someone not in control of their body.

Shazzrah’s arms rose jerkily, as though she had never used them before and was still getting used to them. Then she urged her steed forward and she began to ride after Majordomo. I followed.

It was a long trip. I had plenty of time to think. So, Majordomo, who I knew to be the first lieutenant of Ragnaros, had tricked one of the most powerful and promising mages of Dalaran. I had also seen a monster in Molten Core with powers over the Arcane… I put two and two together.

As if sensing that I had figured it out, the rest of the trip passed in a flash, and I found myself in a place I vaguely recognised… it was Blackrock Mountain, looking in from the Burning Steppes. But there were no giant dwarf-built gates, no path in, and the evil orcs who usually camped around here were nowhere to be seen. So Shazzrah and Majordomo ran in through a fissure in the mountain, and I saw the almost-familiar interior of the mountain, although I had no idea how we were going to get to Molten Core without Forgewrights Tomb forming a bridge.

Majordomo led Shazzrah to a place which I approximated must be above the Rift Crystal I had used so much recently. He muttered some demonic enchantment under his breath, and the very material of Blackrock Mountain began to stretch, shrink and distort itself. Panicking, I looked around me as the rock, which had seemed so solid just moments ago, dissolved around me. I was suddenly falling, into the boiling magma below me, which had suddenly formed a hole, which I fell through, and then…

Black… no, not black. Darkness. As my eyes adjusted, I realised with a jolt that I had arrived in the Molten Core! So, Majordomo’s constant teleportation must have weakened the area nearby, and the Rift Crystal must take advantage of this weakness to open a rift into the Molten Core!

Majordomo and Shazzrah walked past the giants and elementals with no trouble at all, and headed down a path opposite where Gehennas was lounging. I vaguely noticed that there were no hounds… yet. I had never been down this path before, but a feeling of foreboding overtook me – the earth, carved in an ancient evil circular pattern, surrounded by the boiling magma… this was not a good place to be.

Shazzrah was taken right to the very centre of the pattern, where her eyes suddenly reverted to their normal blue and she snapped back into awareness.

“What… where am…” Shazzrah swung her head around, trying to take in what had happened. The last thing she remembered was standing in the Alterac Mountains with Majordomo.

“This is what I want from you. You are going to serve the Fire Lord, Ragnaros. You are going to repel intruders into his domain. And you are going to take on the shape of his defenders.”

A look of pure horror struck Shazzrah, and she climbed shakily down from her horse. “You will receive greater power than mortals have ever dreamed of.” Majordomo continued, eyes gleaming. At this, Shazzrah raised her head.

“Power?” She asked.
“Oh yes. Power, but like all power, it comes at a cost.”

Majordomo raised his hands, which suddenly were glowing as brightly as the molten rock at his feet. The outcrop of rock upon which they were standing started to glow, and a pillar of red light descended on the centre of the cavern, right where Shazzrah was standing.

Her horse was first… it started shaking, then it began to grow, shuddering and screeching. Its head became a huge jaw, its legs massive paws… it became a Core Hound. Not just any Core Hound, I realised with a shock. Shazzrah’s steed had become Magmadar!

Next was Shazzrah. As I had predicted, she took on the same serpentine shape as Lucifron, Gehennas and Majordomo, and her powers grew. Even from my safe vantage point at the back of the chamber, I could feel her power. As her transformation completed, she raised her scaled hands and created a massive explosion of Arcane power! As the wall of power rushed to hit me, I started to wonder if I could die inside a book…

I woke with a start, and found that my head had drooped onto the table… not the tome, the table! Where was the book? I then remembered the story of Shazzrah… was it all a dream? Had I really found that powerful tome? Or had I collapsed during my research and dreamt it all? Either way, I still had a strange feeling, just like the sensation I had experienced when I opened the tome.

No matter, the first rays of light were shining in through the Undercity roof, marking out streams of dust in the air. It was time to head back to Molten Core, to face the young mage named Shazzrah…

Molten Core - Shazz Story (Part 9a)

Another night, another sleepless night. A tome on the Arcane powers. Unfortunately, most of the runes turned out to be nothing but ramblings about the Arcane school of magic which mages could specialise in. But, under an entry labelled “Arcane Explosion,” the tome made reference to another tome, although the runes of the name I could not understand. I went to the dusty, tired-looking librarian, and asked him if he knew of the book. When he saw the name, the strangely demonic, twisting runes, his eyes widened and he looked away hurriedly.

Realising that the Librarian was not going to help me, I spent most of the night trawling through the many dusty, musty tomes which lined the rotting shelves of the Undercity Library. After hours of searching, just when I felt I must finally give up, just as I almost collapsed from exhaustion and frustration… a tome seemed to call out to me, seemed to glow and draw towards me. The runes on the spine matched those from the Arcane tome!

Excitement fuelling my body, I grabbed the tome, and felt Arcane power seep into my rotting flesh. This was powerful magic indeed… When I opened the book, I found to my dismay that the runes inside were of the same twisting variety as the ones on the cover. Feeling my hope dissipate, I closed the book – but what was that? The runes had moved, I could swear it! I reopened the book and watched as the runes played out a story on the pages, a story that felt so real it was as if I was there, watching it happen…

I was looking at the magical city of Dalaran, in the days before the protective bubble was erected around its borders. Magical folk wandered around, going about their daily business, the more powerful ones exuding an aura of magic. Some of the younger mages showed off to their friends with flashy explosions and tricks. But it was quite clear who I was supposed to be paying attention too… a young female mage walking towards the town hall.

This mage seemed to stand out against the rest of the world, as if the surrounding environment was in black and white. I followed the young girl – she couldn’t be older than 15 – into the Town Hall. A large gathering had convened, apparently waiting for this girl. She approached the raised platform at the northern end of the hall, and sat down in one of the seats next to a number of much older mages. One of them rose and held his hand – the entire hall stopped speaking – but not of their own free will, or so it seemed.

“We are gathered here today to recognise some of our most powerful Magi,” spoke the old man in a magically amplified voice, “as well as some of our most promising.”

One by one the old men stood as they were introduced by the speaker, and a brief background of their lives. Each one was presented with a ceremonial wand which was a symbol of their power and stature. Torivian, the most powerful fire mage Dalaran had ever known. Liendron, an especially battle-scarred mage, was being recognised for his outstanding work during the great wars. And Horangion, the mage who had once frozen an entire city within an iceblock to contain the demons which had begun to pour through a rift.

Finally, the man reached the young mage.

“And of course, Shazzrah. This promising young mage has shown a startling affinity to the arcane magicks from a very young age, and through dedication and commitment has already become one of the more powerful mages to reside within our fair city. We have all heard of the amazing Arcane Explosions which Shazzrah has been able to conjure from within her body, and have seen the results of her work within the many Trogg and Furbolg encampments.

“For extreme skill and courage, I hereby present the Wand of Arcana to Shazzrah Holomag!”

The hall erupted in clapping – this girl, Shazzrah, was obviously extremely popular and well known. But for some reason, she sent shivers down my spine.

After the conclusion of the ceremony, I cautiously walked towards where Shazzrah and the old mage were having a conversation. At first I was afraid I would stand out (a Forsaken among Humans?) but it seemed that I could not be seen. So I walked right up to Shazzrah and listened in on their conversation. To my great disappointment, there was nothing of interest being discussed.

Another young mage suddenly appeared in a blinding flash of light in the middle of the hall.

“Shazzrah!” he called. “Ogres are attacking our encampment in the Alterac Mountains! We need your help!”

Immediately alert, I could see why Shazzrah was so admired. She blinked out of the hall – I hurried to keep up. Shazzrah grabbed the reins of a noble white war horse from a stable master in the centre square of Dalaran, jumped on with sublime grace, and sped off. Luckily for me I was easily able to keep up, through some enchantment.

When Shazzrah arrived at the encampment, just inside the pass which led deeper into the Alterac Mountains, it was to a scene of utter devastation. Nothing remained to indicate that anyone could have survived the attack.

“No Ogre did this…” Shazzrah muttered under her breath. “I must return to Dalaran and find out who… or what… was responsible for this.”
So Shazzrah turned her steed around, preparing for the ride back, and witnessed something which almost caused her to fall off her horse in shock.

Molten Core - Baron Geddon 2 (Part 8b)

As I wandered the ghostly plane, I marvelled at the beauty that even the harsh earth of the Searing Gorge could achieve. As I seemed to glide along, faster than would have been possible within my mortal body, I wondered at the huge swirling portal looming above me in the clouds. Perhaps, if one lingered in this realm too long, one’s spirit would be sucked into the sky, and move on to another existence? Perhaps, it was yet anther portal to the Twisting Nether, and the Burning Legion was at this very moment concocting another invasion plan in their twisted minds.

I ran in through the massive wrought-iron gates which served as the entrance point to Blackrock Mountain, and watched as my comrades leapt over the railings, and swam in the lava. It would seem as though our immortal spirits could suffer no harm. Even so, it was with trepidation that I jumped into the lava so far below, and swam back to the Rift Crystal.

As I touched the strange red object for the 6th time this week, the sensation was notably different. Rather than being pulled through space, it seemed as though… space was moved around me. I stayed still, but Azeroth in its entirety moved around me until suddenly, my senses returned in a flood and I was standing, mortal once more, in the first cavern of the Molten Core.

As my comrades appeared around me with varying degrees of shock and excitement registered on their faces, I started running towards where Baron Geddon had defeated us. Luckily Ragnaros had not yet managed to find replacement monsters for the ones we had destroyed mere hours earlier.

As I waited for the forces to reassemble, I decided to try a little experiment. I projected my vision into a small ball of energy I had created, then sent it off up the passageway towards Baron Geddon. I emerged into the massive chamber, the boiling hot magma flowing not a foot away, and watched as the Baron ran (or floated?) swiftly up a path to the right. Taking advantage of the elemental’s absence, I headed over to the left, where I witnessed a creature much like Gehennas. But this creature, rather than emanating shadow, felt much more like the mages among us who specialised in the arcane.

I felt my grip on the magic ball fade, and my senses were thrust back into my body to find Oldtimer tapping me on the shoulder. “Conundrum? You there?” he asked me.
“Yes, Oldtimer. Now, get ready. The Baron will be here soon.”
Looking a bit disgruntled by the way I had spoken to him, Oldtimer wandered off to take his place in the line.

As Worthog once again ran out of the cave opening, the flames of hell trailing behind him, I unleased the soul-burning spell once again. This time, Lovick had instructed us to run as FAST as we could away from the line as soon as we felt the rumbling. I glanced backwards quickly – Kallus was standing at the back of the cave, ready to shield and protect any bomb victims.

I cast the curse upon the Baron, then started hurling the shadowy bolts of energy at the elemental. Bolt after bolt impacted upon Geddon’s fiery hide, and many members of the raid ran backwards, were shielded, and exploded into the air. Finally, the inevitable happened, and I felt the rumbling within my own chest. I turned and began to run, feeling my insides burn, burn! But… suddenly, I didn’t want to run. The opposite, in fact, I felt like blowing my raid members to oblivion!

Resisting this strange urge, I kept running towards Kallus, so he could – ah! Kallus! Unable to resist any longer, I charged headlong at Kallus, aiming to blow him sky high. To his credit, Kallus didn’t flinch once as my fiery eyes stared madly – he simply shielded me as I exploded not 10 feet from his vulnerable body, and healed me as I fell to the ground. Muttering my thanks, I ran back to join the raid and cast another Curse.

Finally, after what seemed an age, Geddon dissolved, leaving behind nothing but the magical bracers which had bound him to Ragnaros’ whim. Celebrating with my comrades, today I actually allowed myself a shout of victory. “For the Dark Lady!” I cried hoarsely. The undead priest I met earlier joined in, “For the Forsaken!” and lauged.

“I’m Glenys.” She said.
“Conundrum,” I replied.
“The pleasure is all yours,” she said, a cheeky grin on her face. I smiled, pulled out my Hearthstone, and teleported back to Kargath.

Molten Core - Baron Geddon 1 (Part 8a)

Once again I found myself trawling through the dusty tomes of the Undercity Library late at night – it would have been a bad habit had I still been alive, but the Forsaken do not need as much sleep as the other denizens of Azeroth. Tonight I was investigating a particularly interesting book on a collection of deities known as the Old Gods.

Apparently, the Old Gods resided on Azeroth before the Titans came to shape the world, and the Elemental Lords were the Lieutenants of these Gods. When the Titans arrived, the Old Gods had resisted the shaping of the world, and a war had broken out. The Old Gods, including C’Thun, who I now understand commands the Silithid through the Qiraji, were far more powerful than the Titans, and the Titans were only able to defeat the Old Gods by teaming up on them, and even then they were not destroyed, only banished from Azeroth.

So, Ragnaros was only the lieutenant of an even stronger being? I could not even begin to imagine the power this being must have once possessed. With that thought in my head, I wandered back to my bed in the Undercity inn.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the morning, after using my Hearthstone to bring me back to Kargath, Lovick was once again issuing orders to the amassed adventurers.

“Today,” he called, “we are going up against the toughest lieutenant of Ragnaros yet. Baron Geddon, the fire elemental, is capable of creating massive walls of flame, which, if not dealt with properly, can wipe out a full group within seconds. Due to this, before we engage the Baron, I want every member of the raid to drink one of the potions Retsinis is handing out now.”

Retsinis walked up to me and handed me a vial of glowing red liquid. “This potion will absorb fire when it hits you” he told me.

“Lovick’s been doing some research last night eh?” I asked him, a wry smile on my face.
“Seems like it… although I’m sure Plaugeis wasn’t left out of it.” Retsinis replied. “Seems like those two have got pretty friendly, if you know what I mean.”
I laughed, but it was devoid of humour. “Well, thanks for the potion.”
“No problem,” said Retsinis, and continued to hand out potions.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

We fought through the early monsters, who had once again returned, with relative ease. With all the practise we had been getting, and the members of our group getting better equipment, these creatures who had once seemed unsurpassable now were mere annoyances on our road to Baron Geddon.

When we reached the cavern where Garr had resided, and cleared the next corridor of monsters, I saw some fire elementals and some rock elementals. From my research, I knew that Ragnaros made his minions immune to banishment, so Rogrosar and I banished the two rock elementals. When the fire elementals came charging past us to the rest of the members, I felt my armor heat up to boiling temperature, it felt as though it were melting. But I kept my mind focussed on keeping the elemental caught in limbo. When I heard the fire elementals dissolve behind me, I allowed the elemental I was banishing to return to this plane. Lovick charged in and got the elemental’s attention, then we proceeded to destroy it and Rogrosar’s elemental as well.

Once these elementals were destroyed, I saw a massive fire elemental rushing down the hill towards us. Lovick ordered us to get back to Garr’s room, which we all did as quickly as possible. Only Worthog, the hunter, and his Tiger pet TiggyBlack remained at the corridor.

When we got back to the room, Lovick instructed us to get into a line across the mouth of the corridor. When Garr arrived, we were all to begin attacking immediately. Not long after this, Worthog came running out of the corridor looking more scared than I’d seen anyone in my life. Following right on his heels was Baron Geddon. I immediately summoned the power of a Night Elf’s soul that I had claimed fighting for the horde in Arathi Basin, and unleashed it in a powerful shadow attack. I then began casting bolts of shadow.

The battle seemed straightforward at first, until I felt a rumbling coming from beside me. Evoker, a mage of considerable skill, was shaking violently, a shocked look on his face. I saw the fire in his eyes too late – Evoker literally exploded in a shower of blood and gore, sending myself and everyone else near him flying through the air. Shocked and flying, I knew I was close to death from the explosion alone, and as I hit the ground, my body crumpled like a useless piece of paper, as did over half the raid.

What followed was a strange experience to say the least. It felt like I was standing up – but, indeed, I couldn’t feel anything. And my body, it was still lying broken on the rock of the cavern! As I puzzled over this phenomenon, Baron Geddon went on a rampage of the people left alive, burning them horrifically and sending many to a flying death. I watched as the ghosts of my comrades sprung up all over the cavern, looking as puzzled as me. Even amid all this destruction, I couldn’t help a wry smile at the thought that maybe Lovick and Plaugeis weren’t as perfect as they thought they were.

Suddenly my ghost was torn through space, and I reappeared at a familiar location – the Thorium camp, in Searing Gorge. But everything had a blue, ghostly tinge, and a massive portal swirled in the clouds. So, this was the astral plane…

A winged creature appeared before my eyes. “Welcome, Conundrum. This is your first visit to my plane. Let me explain. Your spirit has been separated from your body. I can return your body here, but it will take a battering from being dragged through space. Alternately, you can walk your spirit to your body, and return the spirit to your body.”

There was no need for words, it was a miracle that I was not gone forever, and indeed I could not draw breath to speak. Whatever this creature was (I later discovered that it was a kind of angel, put on Azeroth to return lost spirits to their bodies), I had to return to my body, in the Molten Core, as my comrades were already doing…

Molten Core - Garr (Part 7)

A couple of hours later I was awakened by the sounds of my comrades gathering once again in the small town of Kargath. The Badlands was a curious place, almost devoid of plant life, and yet many forms of animal life bloomed. Some people believe this is due to it’s proximity to Uldaman, one of the ancient laboratories where the Earthen were first created.

Whatever the reason, there was no more time to dawdle as we once again set off to the bottom of Blackrock Mountain. On the way down, we encountered a group of gnomes and humans, who had the nerve to attack us! Summoning every bit of shadow energy in my body, I shouted a word to make the Gnome Warrior flee in terror – straight off the cliff into the magma below. Turning my attention to the Human Mage, I burst a spell of flames on his chest, then focussed the flames on his clothes into a secondary blast of fire. Drawing a shard from my bag, I unleashed it’s power in the most sudden and violent way possible, a spell which burns the very soul. As I watched the agony in the mage’s eyes, I considered pitying him – then decided against it. After all, the members of the Alliance are sworn enemies of the Horde, war effort or no war effort. This was not Silithus.

Once the Alliance scum had been dealt with, our party touched the Crystal and appeared once again in the Molten Core.

Once we got organised, I once again realised the absence of Warmonger. When I asked Lovick where Warmonger was, Lovick replied, “he has fallen ill, and is resting in the Trauma Ward in Hammerfall.” Taking Lovick’s word, and hoping that Warmonger would get well soon, I ran forward to help my friends with the Giants.

When we reached the entrance to the late Magmadar’s residence, I asked Oldtimer if he could do me a favour.
“Anything,” he replied.
“I need you to sneak to the place we defeated Lucifron earlier this week, and sever one of her hands. Bring it back to me.”
“Anything… except that.” Oldtimer said. “No way I’m going back in there by myself.”
“Why not? Are you not the master of stealth?”
“Well…”
“There’s some money in it for you…?”

Before the last word was out of my mouth, Oldtimer had camouflaged himself with his surroundings and was heading into the cavern. A few minutes later, he appeared in front of my eyes, holding his grim trophy aloft.
“Ha!” he said triumphantly. “You thought I couldn’t do it! You didn’t believe in me! You -”
“But…”
“Now, pay up!”
I snatched the bloody, scaly hand from Oldtimer’s grasp and withdrew 2 silver coins from my bags.
“Here you go.”
“Two silver? But- ”
“I said there’s money in it for you” I almost laughed at the outraged look on Oldtimer’s face. “Come now, we have more important matters to attend to!”

Muttering something about a cheapskate, Oldtimer wandered off to stab some giants, and I resumed my spellcasting, Karnar beside me spouting profanities as usual. As we passed Gehennas’ rotting corpse, I pulled out my dagger and severed one of his hands, too.
“Two down, two to go,” I muttered under my breath.

As another Giant fell, I beheld what lay behind him in the immense cavern. A rock elemental, the largest I had ever seen, with a veritable swarm of smaller elementals circling around him. This must be Garr, the leader of the Rock Elementals in Molten Core.

The raid, faced with such an obstacle, turned towards Lovick, looking for advice. But Lovick looked as confounded as the rest of us. But Plaugeis, the leader of the Warlocks, whispered in my ear, “Watch this.” And he walked to the head of the raid, turned around and began issuing orders, as though he was born to do it.

“Ok, here’s how it’s gonna work. We’ve got four warlocks here today – Rogrosar, Deceptighoul, Conundrum and myself. We can each banish one of those little elementals. Stampeed, Lightfoot, Lovick and Axenheart,” he said, pointing at each of the warriors in turn, “you are each going to fight one of the other elementals. Lovick, you will fight Garr. Now, we need healers on each of these warriors, you guys can figure out who heals who. As for the rest of you, we’re going to kill of the little elementals one by one, starting with Stampeed’s and working through to Axenheart’s. When those four are dead, I want EVERYONE except the warlocks to attack Garr. When he falls, we finish off the banished elementals one by one.”

At that moment I truly admired Plaugeis, he had stood up where Lovick was completely speechless. He then wandered over to Rogrosar, Deceptighoul and I, and said, “we need to summon our Voidwalkers. Get your Voidwalker to stand near your elemental, so you know which one to banish. Got it?”

“Got it,” we all said in unison, and I began to summon Jhomkrit, my faithful Voidwalker. When the blue mass of shadow energy drew forth from the portal I had created, I felt the hate seething from him. It was this concentrated hatred which made Jhomkrit such a valuable ally – anyone close to him cannot resist attacking him, leaving me safe to cast my spells while they batter vainly at my minion.

Looking a little bewildered, Lovick charged into the mass of rock and immediately started attacking Garr. I ordered Jhomkrit forwards to the elemental I had been assigned, then ran after him, and cast a spell which would make the elemental more susceptible to Banishment. I then hurled shadow energy at the elemental, which banished him to a place halfway between this realm and the Twisting Nether, rendering him immobile, but also making him impervious to attacks. I watched as the mages hurled their magic at Stampeed’s infernal, and longed to join them, but I had more important matters to deal with – keeping this elemental incapacitated. But I couldn’t resist one Curse upon Garr himself – I had to have a little fun.

As Stampeed’s elemental was about to fall, Garr turned his head away from Lovick, eyes burning furiously. He stared at Stampeed’s elemental, and suddenly it exploded in a shower of rock, sending Stampeed and anyone nearby flying through the cavern. Watching as Leftout, a rogue with a fierce disposition, flew over my head, I noticed that my elemental had returned and was about to wreak havoc among the priests. Hurrying over, I ordered Jhomkrit to unleash a blast of pure hatred at the elemental. Seemingly shocked by so much hate and fury, the elemental turned to face my minion, and smacked a huge rock fist on Jhomkrit’s head. He would not stand long against that kind of treatment. Rushing the words out of my mouth, I once again banished the elemental, and breathed a sigh of relief, sending some of my life force to Jhomkrit.

Three more elementals fell, and then the raid focussed all of their spells, arrows and weapons on Garr. With all the elementals under control, he quickly fell, and we proceeded to finish off the remaining elementals.

I watched as Lovick approached Plaugeis, and shook his hand. Jealously crept through my body… one day, I would have that kind of recognition… that kind of POWER!

Molten Core - Lord Hydraxis (Part 6)

Once again I spent most of the night in the Undercity Library, this time researching the location of Lord Hydraxis. I found a lot of information about a cult of elementals known as the Hydraxian Waterlords, who were obviously the followers of Lord Hydraxis, and learnt that they are probably the only pure elementals left on Azeroth. After trawling through accounts of the war between the elemental Lords, during which I learnt that Ragnaros had been sent to his firey imprisonment, and many of the other Lords had been banished from Azeroth, I managed to track down Hydraxis’ last known location. Apparently after defeating Ragnaros, Hydraxis’ and his clan had retreated to a location off the shore of Azshara, a small trip north of Orgrimmar. I thought that it would be a good idea to pay this Lord a visit, so ignoring my body’s cries for rest, I got on the Zeppelin to Orgrimmar then on a Wind Rider to Azshara.

I rode my Felsteed as far east into Azshara as he could take me, then dismounted and swam out to the island Hydraxis was rumoured to inhabit.

Sure enough, as I approached, I saw what seemed to be a whirlpool in mid-air on top of the island. A big whirlpool. But this was no ordinary whirlpool – it was sentient, it had a face and arms and a lot pf guards surrounding the island. As I approached, they looked at me suspiciously, as though they could no longer trust anything in this world. But I cast a spell to allow me breath underwater, and went down to talk to them.

“Hail, fair elementals.” I said, a stream of magical bubbles escaping my lips. “I seek an audience with Lord Hydraxis.”
“How do you know of our Lord?” demanded one of the guards, in a strange voice. It reminded me of a river, fast, swift and dangerous, but quiet, so as not to seem a threat.
“I have been researching.”
“Why do you seek to speak to our Lord?” asked another guard – I would not have known it was another had the voice not come from behind me, as the elementals had no obvious way of talking.
“Because we are waging a war on the Fire Lord, Ragnaros, and seek Hydraxis’ council.”
“The Fire Lord is our sworn enemy!” cried the first guard, his voice now like a cascading waterfall. “Along with all other corrupted elementals. You may pass, but do not anger us.”

I did not stay to chat with the unsettling creatures. Instead I emerged from the waters on to the island, and faced Lord Hydraxis himself. About twice the size of the other elementals, he truly was a sight to behold.

“Lord Hydraxis,” I began, “my comrades and I wage war on the forces of the Fire Lord, Rag-”
“I know,” boomed Hydraxis’, his voice like an echo in a cavernous underground lake. “If you wish to wage war on Ragnaros, you will need to defeat his lieutenant, Majordomo Executus. But it will not be easy to lure him from his hiding place in the Core. To bring forth Executus, you must douse all 8 Runes within the Molten Core. Each one is guarded by one of Ragnaros’ strongest creatures.”

Even with this much information, many questions sprang to my mind, but I knew better than to interrupt something so much more powerful than myself.
“But no ordinary water will douse the hellfire these Runes are enchanted with. You will need the sacred Aqual Quintessence.”

Finally my curiosity got the better of me. “So where do I get the-”

“SILENCE!” Boomed Hydraxis. “I do not yet know if I can trust you, let alone if you are capable of the task which lies ahead of you. Before I entrust you with the sacred Aqual Quintessence, you must perform a task for me. You must kill Lucifron, Gehennas, Shazzrah and Majordomo, four of Ragnaros’ most trusted lieutenants, and bring me their hands. When this is done I shall entrust you with the Aqual Quintessence.

Thanking the Lord profusely, I started off back to Undercity when I realised the first rays of sunlight on the horizon. I heaved a great sigh as I reached into my bag for my Hearthstone – I shall have to get some sleep in Kargath before the expedition tomorrow. As I lay in the hard bed in the sweltering heat of the Kargath Inn, thoughts of elementals and ancient wars swimming in my head, I eventually slipped into an uneasy – and short – sleep.

Molten Core - Gehennas (Part 5)

Part 5:

Today was the day of our second excursion into the realm of the Fire Lord, Ragnaros. In my time at home, I had explored the vast libraries of the Undercity, searching for information which may aid myself and my comrades.

In my searches, I stumbled across a curious bit of information. Apparently, Ragnaros is not the only Elemental Lord to dwell upon the lands of Azeroth. There also existed a Water Lord, known as Lord Hydraxis, though his whereabouts are unknown. There is also believed to be a Lord of Wind and a Lord of Earth, although rumours of their existence are unconfirmed.

Unfortunately my studies were cut short when our time of departure drew near. I touched the Hearthstone which sat in my backpack, and the swirl glowed bright green. Just as the light reached blinding point, I felt a strong tug and my eyes adjusted to the light in the dim Inn of Kargath, in the Badlands. Outside I could hear the sounds of the other adventurers, getting ready for our expedition. As I walked outside to greet them, a warrior with some unusual tendencies walked up to me.

“Lovick. Where’s Warmonger?”
“He couldn’t make it today, so I’ll be leading the raid.”

Astonished that Warmonger would leave the raid in the hands of… well, Lovick, I was stunned for a moment. But then I realised that if Warmonger trusts Lovick, then he must have a reason for it, and I must trust that Warmonger has made the right decision.

“Move out!” ordered Lovick in his strange, hissing voice. I focussed on the Twisting Nether and called forth a horse of flame and brimstone, the Felsteed. Hopping carefully onto it’s back, unaffected by the searing heat the creature emitted, I rode happily after my comrades. Well, as happily as a sadistic, cynical, tortured being can be.

Once we touched the Rift Crystal and appeared in the Molten Core, Lovick was dismayed to see that the majority of the monsters we had defeated yesterday had returned – with the exception of the Core Hounds. After some thought I figured this must be because we had defeated their leader.

After some fights with the giants we had faced the day before, we took a detour away from where we had encountered Lucifron and Magmadar. Instead, we headed towards some fast moving beings of rock and fire. These monsters, rather than attacking with fists or claws, used fire damage to attack us, making much of our armor useless. Indeed, they could launch fire in a sphere around them, damaging all the members of our raid who were nearby. And they seemed to absorb my fire based attacks, as if I had not cast them in the first place. These beings must be the servants of the Fire Lord himself.

After a couple more giants, I got a shock when I thought I saw Lucifron, alive and well, in the next cavern. But on further inspection, the beings skin was an orange hue and seemed to have a dark aura around it. This must be Gehennas, the shadow lord of Molten Core. After telling us this fight was similar to the Lucifron fight, we headed in.

After being hit by some of Gehennas’ shadow spells, I remembered a spell my mentor Rushman had once taught me. Summoning some energy, I formed it into a barrier around me, which would consume any shadow magic which hit it. With new confidence, I cast spell after spell at the guards of Gehennas, then turned my attention to the shadow lord himself.

I ran to a group of other spellcasters, but before I could even hurl one spell in his direction, fire began raining from the sky! As the group panicked and scattered to get away from the painful fireballs, Lovick shouted, “Get out of the fire! Get out!!” We didn’t need to be told twice. Unfortunately for Lovick, this meant that everyone in that group had stopped casting spells. And many priests, druids and shaman were in this group. Faced by the onslaught of Gehennas with no healing whatsoever, Lovick quickly fell. With noone taunting and teasing him, Gehennas went on a rampage throughout the raid. Most of the mages died, as did many priests. Luckily, Lightfoot was there to pick up the slack, and within moments had Gehennas under control.

With 6 warlocks in our raid today, Gehennas had been afflicted by many Curses, and it was about time for these to strike. As I watched, Gehennas’ arm fell off, and his face began to rot away. An eye popped all over Lightfoot, and the orange tinge of his skin faded to grey. Knowing he was not far from death, I went all out with my spell casting, blasting bolts of shadow and fire into the decrepit enemy. So it was that even with over half the members of our raid fallen, we conquered the Shadow Lord.

After such a harrowing fight, Lovick declared that this raid was over, and we would rest tonight and head back in tomorrow morning.

Molten Core - Magmadar (Part 4)

Seeing as the next obstacle in our journey was not far away, Warmonger decided that we would continue on today to face him. So we fought through more packs of Core Hounds, and I perfected my technique of spreading my spells and channelling a fire storm to kill them all at the same time. But as we rounded the last corner in the cave, I forgot to breathe for a few seconds. The biggest Core Hound – nay, the biggest creature I had ever seen lay merely a few hundred feet away. Oldtimer, ever chatty and informative, told me that he was called Magmadar, and that he was the leader of the Core Hounds in Molten Core. He also told me that this encounter would be even more difficult than our fight with Lucifron. But I was not unduly worried. I trusted in the abilities of my comrades and, even more so, I trusted in my own abilities.

Nevertheless, Warmonger insisted on wasting time briefing us on how we would approach this fight. After a brief explanation of our setup, he rushed in to grab Magmadar’s attention.

This time, I took some time to note the actions of my fellow adventurers. As I ran to my position, I noticed that a contingent of priests, shaman and druids rushed after Warmonger, hands glowing white and green, to protect Warmonger from Magmadar’s mighty claws and teeth. Rogues and Warriors rushed to Magmadar’s side and frantically began hacking and slashing at whatever molten flesh they could get a blade to. The spell casters ran to either side of the cave and began conjuring their spells, hurling magic through the air with wild abandon. And the hunters loaded their guns and drew back their bows, took careful aim and began their onslaught.

After I had launched a few magical missiles of my own, a horrible terror struck my heart, and I could do nothing to prevent it. My legs moved of their own accord, I ran, it was terrible, horrible, how could it get any – wait. I am a Forsaken. I have broken the Scourge’s control over me, I can break from this!

With this heightened resolve I stopped my legs from running, turned resolutely to face the gigantic monster, and continued my magical onslaught. I once again muttered the words of Doom and watched as Magmadar flinched, I corrupted his very being, but it seemed nothing would bring this great beast down. In fact, as I watched him, it seemed as though he grew, got more powerful, and he was filled with a powerful rage. At this point, I almost lost hope that we could defeat this monster.

But, Swakto, standing at the back of the cavern, launched a special bullet at Magmadar which somehow, miraculously, seemed to calm him down. “Tranquiliser” explained Swakto. But there was no more time to chat. If we didn’t kill Magmadar soon, he would rise into another rage, and Swakto was the only hunter who had the special Tranquilising arrows. So I pulled a soul from my bag – the soul I had pulled from the Flamewalker earlier. I focussed on the fight we had fought, so I could harness the fallen beast’s power. I focussed all this energy into a fireball of incredible might, and hurled it at Magmadar. Soon after this the great beast fell, and the raid celebrated again.

By this stage it was getting late, and Warmonger declared that we would return home for now. The rest of Molten Core awaited us another time…

Molten Core - Lucifron (Part 3)

The Core Hound pack lying defeated and smouldering behind us, we started discussing a strategy to defeat the serpentine Lucifron. Warmonger called to the raid that we would first kill the Flamewalkers who never parted from Lucifron’s side, then would kill Lucifron.

After a few minutes preparation, handing out Healthstones and potions to the raid, we were ready. Warmonger charged in and immediately grabbed Lucifron’s attention with taunts and shouts, while the two Flamewalkers were taken to the back of the cavern. Once they got there, I called forth a ball of fire in my hands, focused on the Flamewalker and launched it, setting the monster on fire. I then launched a bolt of shadow at him. With the spells and arrows of my comrades flying around my head, I reached into my bag and brought forth the glowing purple crystal which contained the soul of the tiger I had fought earlier that day, in Winterspring. Remembering the battle we fought, I harnessed the tiger’s power into a concentrated burst of shadow energy and launched it with all my might at the Flamewalker, who by this stage was looking decidedly worse for wear. Seeking to replace the soul I had used, I began to channel a spell which would draw the soul from the Flamewalker for later use.

The feeling must be horrible – it feels odd enough on my end. Like a tug of war, tugging on my soul as well. A spell as complex as this requires a lot of training – if the spell did not go according to plan, my very essence could be torn from my body and lost among the magma of the Molten Caverns.

Banishing such thoughts from my head, I watched as the Flamewalker stretched and twisted, until eventually its soul solidified in my backpack. With the feeling of satisfaction which comes with draining something’s life force, I turned my attention to the other Flamewalker. After another relatively short battle, another soul lay in my backpack, and Warmonger called for us to attack Lucifron.

As I approached the lizard-like creature, I felt a chill that penetrated to the bone, and made even a hardened combatant such as myself shiver. It felt as though the grim hand of death was even now reaching out to drag me to my doom. As suddenly as it had come on, the feeling was gone, and I looked over to see a mage looking at me with a grin on his face. No time for thanks now, I turned my attention back to Lucifron.

Summoning the powers of shadow, I muttered the words of doom. Lucifron visibly shuddered as the curse took hold. Within a minute, she would convulse in pure agony as the curse came to its full duration. I threw a bolt of shadowy energy at the despicable creature, and noticed that it seemed to be draining me more than usual. My magical forces were running low.

Retreating back out of Lucifron’s range, I converted some of my life force to magical energy, then applied a bandage to myself, and was ready for combat once more. As I ran back into range, Lucifron turned her head away from Warmonger. The entire raid stopped what they were doing. This was not part of the plan.

As Warmonger chased furiously after Lucifron, trying to anger her enough to get her attention, she was busy taking massive swipes at the priests and mages. Anyone who got hit dropped like a fly, and even more were dropping from the chilling curse. But she was tiring. The constant battering of spells and swords had taken its toll, and Warmonger managed to get her attention. A couple more spells, and Lucifron finally collapsed to the ground in a cloud of dust. My comrades erupted into cheering, whooping and hollering like a group of Neanderthals. Needless to say, I did not take part in such a barbaric display of joy, but I did allow a small grin to take shape on my face. As the spirits were returned to the bodies of those who had met Lucifron’s wrath, I caught the eye of the female priest who had protected me earlier. She was looking at me with a strange look on her face… I smiled at her, then wandered deeper into the cave, following Warmonger. I shall need to find out more about this woman…

Molten Core - The Core Hounds (Part 2)

My comrades and I drew into Magmadar Cavern, and ever closer to the insiduous form of Lucifron. But first, there was a pack of hounds to deal with.
Our Warriors rushed forward to engage the creatures, horrible creations of magma from the very mind of the Fire Lord himself. I cast a spell of Corruption upon one of the five hounds, then sent forth one Shadow Bolt spell after another, until the hound began to crumble and smoulder. I then moved my attention to the next hound, this time placing a Curse of Agony upon the great beast. But to my horror, the faintly glowing embers of the first hound burst into flame, and the Core Hound was reborn!

The great beast turned it's massive head towards my fragile frame, lava dripping from it's jaws. As I stared into those pulsing red eyes, I knew that my flimsy cloth armor would serve me no protection from the beasts claws or teeth.

Panicking, I poured my energy into a spell which would invoke fear in the heart of the beast. As i spat the final word of the enchantment at the beast, I was consumed by dismay. The beast did not so much as flinch. Seeing my life flash before my eyes, I was suddenly surrounded by a glowing aura of light, and the claws seemed to pass through me without leaving a scratch.

Once the Hound was safely back attacking the warriors, our valiant leader, Warmonger cried "The beasts must die in unison!"

With our new strategy set before us, I alternated the target of my Shadow Bolt spells until all the Hounds were near death, then I began channelling a powerful Rain of Fire spell. Firey bolts began to fall from the sky, along with bolts of ice from the mages, and all the Hounds fell in unison. Still cautious, I was glad to see that none of the hounds were likely to resurrect and come after me again. With a word of thanks to the priest who had saved my life, a particularly fetching female undead, I turned towards the next challenge we faced...

Molten Core - The Beginning (Part 1)

As I approached the bottom of Blackrock Mountain, my heart beat faster and faster. The red-hot lava bubbling and deadly, so close... this was my kind of place!
Surrounded by my comrades, who called themselves Thrall's Honorguard, I walked near the pale Blood Elf who guarded the entrance to Molten Core.

"Touch the rift crystal" he instructed, "and be careful - you may not come out alive!" When he said this last comment, I swear I saw a hint of wild glee behind his dull eyes.
As I tentatively reached out a rotting hand and touched the pulsing red crystal, i felt my entire being thrust through space in a blur, and suddenly, my eyes cleared and I was standing in an immense cavern, huge Molten Giants just around the corner. Sensing the danger these monsters posed even to a warlock of such skill as myself, and even to our group as a whole, I cast a Demon Armor spell to strengthen myself for the conflict which was to come. I also called forth my Imp minion, Karnar, from the Twisting Nether. Many of my comrades cast me glances as Karnar emerged with a string of Draconic profanities.

Finally, our whole attack party was assembled and we prepared to venture deeper into the Molten Core...

As our brave hunter Worthog risked his life to draw the massive monster towards us, the raid sprung to life. Arrows whizzed past my ears, spells tore through space and impacted on the monster with a seemingly minimal effect, and rogues and warriors stapped and swung their mighty swords and maces. Battle. This is where I belong.

I summoned a ball of shadowy energy to my hands, and unleashed it in a powerful bolt against the Giant. Karnar attempted to cast a fireball, but to his dismay the Giant brushed it off as a Forsaken would a Blood Fly. This resulted in a string of particularly foul profanities.

Eventually the constant onslaugt wore down on the giant, and he collapsed in a huge cloud of cooled magma. The raid cheered - defeating such a massive enemy is certainly exhilerating.

As we progressed deeper into the Cavern, we faced mighty dogs of molten rock, and elementals of pure fire and rock. As we rounded another corner, I witnessed a huge, lizard like creature.

"Lucifron" said my rogue friend, Oldtimer. This was to be a fearsome battle indeed...