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The Madness of Deathwing (a boss encounter in book form)
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Hi guys! I put the Madness of Deathwing raid encounter into a story form. It starts as the Madness of Deathwing rises from the Maelstrom. Tell me what you think!
Even the Aspects were horrified at what rose from the center of the Maelstrom. First came four fiery tentacles tipped with what once had been the Destroyer's claws. The four arm tentacles grasped the many rocks and hoisted more tentacles out of the waters. Two wing tentacles and a tail tentacle also came with many other random tentacles that had no specific body part.
All of the tentacles were dripping lava and had bits of metal fused into them. The grasping arm tentacles heaved and one last thing came up.
This gigantic tentacle rose swiftly out of the exact center of the Maelstrom. Deathwing’s head, the metal bottom jaw half hanging off, sat on top of this body tentacle and a hug hole ripped all they way through it; marking it as once having been Deathwing’s chest.
All that remained of Neltharion and even Deathwing were gone; killed by the Dragon Soul. Now the Aspect of Death’s Masters raised up Deathwing’s mutilated body, infusing him with dark powers, using him as a giant puppet; with only a very tiny shred of the Worldbreaker’s mind left.
The Aspects were in shock. Thrall called up to them, an edge of panic in his voice, “What do we do? What has happened to him?”
Alexstraza whispered hoarsely, “Whatever was left of Neltharion the Earth-Warder is long gone, his mind and soul corrupted and devoured by his Old God masters. He nothing more than a warped mass of molten hatred and unfathomable power, all this monstrous being desires is destruction, annihilation, and the end of all things. This formless, mindless horror cannot be stopped; even by all of our powers combined!”
“There must be some way!” yelled Thrall over the roars of the mutation in the Maelstrom and the thick rain.
“No,” shouted Nozdormu, “It does not matter how many times we tear it apart or fling it back into the sea! The Old Gods will keep bringing him back no matter how we crush it!”
“I have analyzed Deathwing’s new magic!” roared Kalecgos, “An Old God, or at least some shadow of one, is directly feeding this corruption with its power. Right now the last of Deathwing’s mind is being exterminated or subdued; it is writhing in agony! But once it is done, it will be able to create a second Cataclysm that will destroy us all!”
The Aspects, the two orc shaman and the twenty five mixed champions of the Horde and Alliance were silent, staring in numb horror at the writhing thing that had once been the Aspect of Earth.
Suddenly, Kalecgos brightened, “Aha! I see a faint hope! If we can channel our power into the Dragon Soul, we can use it to simultaneously push away the Elder Being and eradicate the Destroyer’s body! By time the Old One returns, there will be nothing left of the Death Aspect.”
“Sounds great!” said Aggra, “What do we need to do?”
“The Aspects will need time to channel our power into the Soul,” said Kalecgos, “But we cannot penetrate the body tentacle, for it is surrounded by a shield. IF you can destroy the arms tentacles, the body tentacle will fall onto a platform until it can reconnect its arms. During that time, you can get close enough and destroy the magical barrier by hand. After the shield is down, we can launch the Dragon Soul’s power into the body tentacle; killing it for good!”
“Beware!” Ysera suddenly shouted, “It is done with its pain and turns towards us!”
The Aspects began the spell and the Dragon Queen said, “Now we shall see the full horror that the madness of Deathwing has wrought!”
“The ‘Madness of Deathwing’?” Thrall muttered, “A fitting name.”
The central body tentacle and many of the smaller, random tentacles, turned towards the platform with twenty five mortals huddled on it with four dragons hovering above it.
The Madness of Deathwing writhed in continued voiceless and the mouth of Deathwing opened and spoke, but it was a voice that no mortal or dragon had ever heard, “You have done NOTHING! I will tear your world APART!”
“Strike now” yelled Thrall, and he, Aggra and the twenty five mortals flew on the World Shaman’s wind to the platform where the first arm tentacle clung. The Four Aspects each moved over a platform with an arm tentacle over it, charging the Dragon Soul. Alexstraza settled over the platform where the mortals now fought.
The Arm tentacle writhed; all but the bubbling claw, which held firmly to the platform. Thrall shot lightning on to the claw but it held firm. A night elf started hacking away at the tentacle and it started slowly severing. In retaliation, several little magma tentacles came out of the claw and lashed into a gnome’s chest. The dead warlock tipped over the edge and into the whirling sea. The gnome’s felguard shrieked and was cast back into the Nether.
An orc called Gorshnak used his daggers to cut off the small tentacles and he was aided by a goblin and a worgen. The arm tentacle was halfway severed when a huge, molten tentacle, studded with fragmented elementium burst out of the sea and rushed upwards to the Aspect of Life.
With a roar, the World Shaman and Aggra shot lightning and stone at the huge tentacle. The flailing appendage slammed down, killing a dwarf and a tuaren and knocking a blood elf into the sea.
Thrall hurriedly scooped the floundering mage back up onto the platform. Aggra twisted a stone rift upwards, ramming it through the tentacle. Lifeless, the burning limb slid back into the sea. The Arm tentacle was almost severed.
Then the Madness of Deathwing called to them, “Your armor means nothing! Your faith – even less!”
Then from the body tentacle’s maw launched three fire balls of pure elementium. Quickly, Thrall and Aggra asked the waters to rise in waves that consumed two of the fire balls; but the third struck home.
The elementium exploded; sending burning chunks of metal everywhere. Melted elementium ended the lives of the blood elf mage, the worgen and a dreanei paladin.
In a rage Thrall struck the arm tentacle and severed the weaken thing. It fell back into the sea with a weak splash.
“Onwards!” cried Gorshnak and the cry was raised by a few others. Thrall’s air carried them all to the next platform, under Kalecgos this time.
The mortals started attacking the arm tentacle and several little tentacles burst out. But then a wing tentacle came thundering down on top of them. The tentacle had little more than the tips of melting wing bones on top of it, but the hot, serrated edges killed another four mortals.
Aggra leapt atop the wing temple and struck it with lightning again and again. The wing tentacle, with the orc still on it, retreated from the fray. Thrall readied a lighting bolt to aid his wife when another lava tentacle rushed out of the Maelstrom towards Kalecgos. With a snarl, Thrall hurled the bolt at the fire tentacle, sending it into death throes as it sank beneath the roaring waves.
Deathwing unleashed another two elementium blasts calling, “There’s no shelter from my fury!”
With a yell, Aggra rammed her blade into the wing tentacle and pulled water into it. The mutated appendage exploded with a dull hiss of steam and Aggra was hurled onto a small outcropping of rocks. Quickly, Aggra sat up and called upon a wave of water, just as Thrall did, stopping the elementium. The female shaman then tipped over, unconscious.
Seeing that his wife was yet alive, Thrall grimly turned back to the work at hand; the arm tentacle was three fourths of the way gone and was still fighting. Steeping over the corpse of a goblin priest, Thrall hadn’t seen her fall; the World Shaman attacked the tentacle.
Suddenly, Kalecgos called out in horror, “The Destroyer is gathering all his might for a blow that will split the world. Attack him, now! We must stop the final Cataclysm!”
The defender rushed in, hacking furiously. The mouth of the body tentacle was frothing with flame, something was brewing in there.
And then the arm fell away, dead as the first and Deathwing’s head hollered, “Gahh!” Whatever he had been conjuring had been delayed.
Quickly Thrall moved his force to the third platform. The World Shaman and the fourteen remaining mortals attacked the claw that rested under Ysera. As before, the second wing tentacle surged through the sea towards them. Wasting no time, Thrall summoned lightning to the Doomhammer and hurled it at the wing tentacle. Doomhammer struck what had once been the Unmaker of World’s wing and it exploded the tentacle with fierce lightning.
Swiftly, Thrall summoned Doomhammer back to him with a gust of air and turned sharply around to wait for the large lava tentacle. On queue, it burst out, intent on impaling the Aspect of Dreams. Thrall blew it back under the water with gale force winds and called all available water to rush upon it. Even the ever-burning flames of the tentacle could not stand up to this water and it simply went out.
Thrall then turned to see two elementium bolts hurtling towards them with the head of Deathwing roaring, “The Sea will swallow your smoldering remains!”
The World Shaman tried a different approach this time, and summoned a gust of wind and blew one elementium bolt into the second. Both exploded over the water, causing no harm.
Thrall charged the lagging arm tentacle as Ysera yelled, “Deathwing is conjuring the final Cataclysm; even the Emerald Dream trembles! If we are to stop the spell, we must attack him together!”
And as the mortals struck the clinging appendage, the Dreamer unleashed brilliant emerald flames onto the limb. In a burning mass, the dead husk fell away and Deathwing roared again in agony.
With a cheer, they hurried to the last platform that Nozdormu hovered above. They had suffered no losses that time.
They started again, as they had before, on the arm tentacle. The tail tentacle stabbed down, ramming Gorshnak and a human warrior through. The jagged end of Deathwing’s tail swept sideways, sweeping a troll druid and a forsaken rogue into the Sea; although they were already dead before they hit the waters.
Thrall flung himself onto the tail tentacle just as the lava tentacle came up towards Nozdormu. Fortunately, the Aspect of Time had seen what had almost happened to the other Aspects, and was ready for it. The Timeless One bent his head down and blew golden flames, which seemed to have sand flowing through them, towards the flaming tentacle. The twisted appendage fell back into the water a mere two seconds after its emergence.
Thrall clung to the fleshy part of the tail tentacle trying desperately to think of a way to fell this monstrosity.
“Drop!” yelled Nozdormu and the orc obeyed. Sandy flames consumed the tail tentacle, causing Deathwing to roar again…rage this time, not pain.
Thrall got back up swiftly, ready for the elementium bolts. But only one came this time, and with no biting remark from the Destroyer. Thrall quickly consumed the bolt with water and attacked the arm tentacle. Who ever was using the Madness of Deathwing as a puppet must have registered that the half a score of attacking mortals was actually a threat; and was concentrating on conjuring a Cataclysm.
And sure enough, Nozdormu roared, “Hurry, heroes. In mere moments Deathwing's Cataclysm will complete what he begun and end the world. Join me in the attack, now!”
The mortals hacked and the sandy flames finished it. The arm tentacle fell and gave a half-hearted slash before falling into the Maelstrom.
The body tentacle was struggling to stay up and it was yelling; “I AM DEATHWING! THE DESTROYER! THE END OF ALL THINGS! INEVITABLE! INDOMITABLE! I AM THE CATACLYSM!” then he, if it still could be called a he, fell onto the platform under Alexstraza.
In disbelief, the Lifebinder yelled, “He’s completely mad!”
Kalecgos added, “Is he…coming apart?”
Ysera was shocked as well, “Such rage…I have never seen!”
Nozdormu called, “It is time! Press the attack, heroes!”
The eleven mortals rushed back to Alexstraza’s platform. Deathwing, gasping upon the platform, shield still holding, yelled, “There is no hope, no future, all life is doomed!”
When the champions of Azeroth arrived on the platform, the Madness of Deathwing had called his remaining twenty fire tentacles to guard the body tentacle. Smaller tentacle, similar to the ones that protected the arm tentacles, popped out of the platform around Deathwing’s head.
Deathwing’s body tentacle was also starting to hemorrhage; many man sized drops of congealing, molten blood, with chunks of metal in them, fell on to the platform and began to crawl towards the World Shaman and his companions, striving to protect the body that had just shed them.
The mortals rushed forward, striking the blood and the lesser tentacles, while attacking Deathwing’s head, cracking the dark shield.
The Aspects help too, blowing fire balls on to the large lava tentacles. The blood and tentacles claimed the lives of three mortals and Deathwing unleashed a payload of shrapnel.
The night elf warrior screamed and dropped her ax as several red-hot pieces of metal ripped through her chest. Even as she fell to the ground, thrashing the last of her life away, and her scream faded, Thrall knew that scream would haunt him the rest of his life.
He heard Ysera whisper, “Another soul lost…to the Destroyer…”
A rustling and clanking sound caught Thrall’s ear. The orc turned and saw a monster forming behind him. Elementium shards melted and fused together, taking the shape of a man. Where his hands should have been, jagged, red-hot elementium bars stuck out.
The Elementium Terror charged him, tearing and poking with its arms. The Doomhammer countered the blows, sending sparks into the air. Thrall desperately conjured a water bolt and cast it at the Elementium Terror.
The living metal dodged and the water killed a drop of the congealed blood. The Elementium knocked the Doomhammer from Thrall’s grasp and slammed him to the ground. It raised a shard, ready to stab, when suddenly, Aggra leapt upon it, thrusting her sword into what was shaped like a head.
Molten elementium poured out of the gaping hole like blood, but it did not fall. Aggra leapt off of it and the Elementium Terror rushed towards her. Smoothly, the brown skinned orc lashed out with wind and blew the living monster off of the platform.
All that was left of it now was a few pieces of rapidly cooling metal sinking beneath the waves.
Aggra and Thrall then turned and rushed the felled Aspect of Death. They all struck at the head again and again. And when the Doomhammer struck the invisible shield the fifth time, it shattered and they started landing real bl
and they started landing real blows on the head. With a savage roar, the head of Deathwing grabbed a tuaren and swallowed him. Then, the four arm tentacles re-emerged and pushed the body tentacle back into the center of the Maelstrom.
Next came all of the tentacles they had felled before. All of the lava, wing and tail tentacles waved furiously in the air, striking at nothing. Gaping wounds in the head and all of the rest of Deathwing healed; all they had accomplished had been undone.
Thrall turned to the Aspects, “It is done. The shield is down!”
The Aspects spoke as one, “And we are ready.”
Ysera tossed the Dragon Soul to Thrall, crying, “Use it now!”
Thrall caught the Dragon Soul and directed it to its maker.
Then, some of the rage seemed to subside from Deathwing's burning eyes, "Alexstraza..." It was Deathwing's voice...or perhaps Neltharion's, "I...am...sorr-" The sentence cut off as the Master regained control of the Madness. The head of Deathwing glared and fire started bubbling in its mouth again, “I SHALL SHOW YOU A TRUE CATACLYSM” he screamed.
Alexstraza gasped; her huge, red, bulk quivering, “No! Such power! Deathwing's summoning of the final Cataclysm will destroy all life on Azeroth. Quickly, you must stop him now!”
Thrall fired. The golden blast from the simple disk struck Deathwing where his heart once stood. Little holes started bursting in Deathwing’s frame, shooting out little golden sparks, but the Cataclysm was still forming. Deathwing’s eyes started shooting sparks as well, and his nostrils. But the Destroyer did not fall.
Golden sparks began falling from his mouth like a flood, mingling with the boiling and writhing flames, and then whoever was controlling Deathwing left. The Cataclysm was still coming, but the sparks started bursting out of his skin, tearing the tentacles apart by the seams. Then the Madness of Deathwing exploded.
A fragment of Deathwing’s jaw flew through the air and land on the platform, boiling hot. Only the jaw and the golden sparks falling slowly down into the Maelstrom were there to testify that Deathwing had ever existed.
Aggra, Thrall and the remaining five mortals eyed the jaw fragment warily. “Do not fear it,” rumbled Nozdormu as he and the other Aspects got to their feet, wearing their mortal guises, “It carried no portion of Deathwing’s life force…N’Zoth,” the dragon shivered, “will not come back for it.”
The remaining champions looked over the jaw while Aggra, the World Shaman and the Aspects looked over the edge of the platform and into the Maelstrom. The sun came out and shone upon them, the storm had passed. The Hour of Twilight had been stopped.
Thrall sighed contentedly, “I can feel the elements awakening...rejoicing...the Cataclysm is over.”
Alexstraza nodded, “The champions who fought at our side assured the survival of our world. But now, we must see it...with mortal eyes.” As she spoke, the light faded from her eyes, as well as the other three Aspects; the sands of time poured from Nozdormu’s shoulder and into his hand. Their power had been sacrificed to charge the Dragon Soul. They were now
The Dragon Queen continued, “We Dragon Aspects have fulfilled our great purpose, and our ancient power is expended. But though our day draws to an end, life endures...and new generations will be born.” She placed a hand on Aggra’s abdomen; Thrall grinned.
The red dragon smiled, “Today's victory belongs to all who stood against the Shadow. You are Azeroth's true guardians, and the future of this world is in your hands. For the dawning of the age of mortals...has begun.”
... those... those text blocks.
I recommend doing a
lot more spacing.
... those... those text blocks.
I recommend doing a
lot more spacing.
There you go. Thanks. :)
Bookmarked this. ;)
I like seeing someone else write in this style. I wrote a similar-type story about the fight against the Lich King.
I'm writing the entire Siege of Wyrmrest, but it will be a while before it is done.
Here is the fight between Benedictus and Thrall, starting right after the World Shaman and his allies reach Wyrmrest Temple.
The corpses of ten dragons and over thirty drakes of all five flights lay scattered around the Aspect of Death as the Destroyer gloated on the fools that had dared to challenge him. What had once been a black dragon landed and transformed into his humanoid form. Deathwing went straight into where the Argent Crusade drove the Twilight’s Hammer back. His hammer rant death and his fires consumed the soldiers of the Light.
Deathwing laughed and he cut a bloody path of destruction through the Crusaders. His warped mind only sought to ruin the defenders of Azeroth. Azeroth must burn. It would burn! All he needed was the Dragon Soul.
Deathwing was pulled out of his thoughts as a beam of pure light smashed into his stomach and hurled him back. The Unmaker of Worlds got to his feet; unscathed. The Power of the Old gods flowed through him; protecting his body. He was nearly invulnerable. Tirion Fordring strode towards what was once the Aspect of the Earth, the Ashbringer blazed with the glory and Light of the Creator.
Deathwing smiled and molten spittle ran down his cheek, “Come towards me, Holy One, so that I may unmake you!”
“Nay, Neltharion,” said Tirion, Deathwing grimaced at the sound of his old name as the human continued, “Your bloody reign is coming to end; the Cataclysm will end this day!”
Deathwing spat, melting the bloody snow at his feet, “Strong words for a mortal, even dragons are mortal worms to me; they are slugs on a garden wall against my rage! And even I am a slug compared to the Old Gods! The Hour of Twilight is at hand! Give me the Dragon Soul and perhaps I shall spare you so that the Old Gods may kill you instead of me!”
Tirion shook his head and extended a hand towards the fallen aspect, temporarily ignoring the battle raging around him, “The Light still loves you, Neltharion. Give up this unspeakable horror, come back into the Light!”
Deathwing shook with rage, his chest heaved, spilling magma down his burning front, “Neltharion is gone! I am Deathwing the Destroyer! The Old Gods shall crush you all and grind you to nothing! I will kill you now!”
Deathwing swung his hammer and Tirion deflected it. The Ashbringer flashed back and forth, shining with the power of the light, but the sword was blocked by Deathwing’s dark hammer, just as the hammer was blocked by Tirion’s holy sword. Back and forth the two leaders went, as crusaders and cultists fought around them. Powers of the Light and the Twilight whizzed through the air and cultists’ blades gleamed against the Argent forces.
Ettins and ogres rushed through the ranks of the Light, scattering them. Deathwing laughed as he fought. Then, the Ashbringer and the hammer locked together. Deathwing blew a ball of fire and Tirion raised a shield of light to stop it. Tirion created a dagger of light and thrust it into Deathwing’s face. The Destroyer fell to ground but was not hurt. The two rushed towards each other but an ettin crashed through them, throwing them both to the ground.
Tirion was obscured from Deathwing’s sight as the battle moved on to their position. Deathwing prepared to transform into his draconic form to incinerate Tirion when he heard the whispers. The voices that had spoken to him for over ten thousand years in his head sounded again, “It’s time...”
Deathwing’s heart clenched; it was time. The Hour of Twilight was upon them and the world would burn with their coming; just as soon as he reached the Dragon Soul. He transformed in to the melting dragon of his true form and winged off to where his commanders waited; blasting fire down on the battle as he went.
Deathwing landed on the glacier a little way from the battlefield that served as his command base. Marla and Grithia were already there. Before transforming into his humanoid form, Deathwing shot a mighty fireball into the sky as a signal for his commanders to return.
Warmaster Blackhorn thrust his sword through the heart of the human in front of him. He then backhanded his blade and felled two tuskarr. Whirling, the mighty tuaren cut off the head of a Horde soldier. The Twilight’s Hammer cultist saw the fireball and whistled, summoning Garonia, the twilight drake that served as his mount, to him. Mounting on Garonia, Blackhorn took flight towards the command post, where the other commanders would be waiting.
Blackhorn loathed the Twilight Father. After the death of Cho’Gall, He had become the leader of the Twilight’s Hammer and was constantly assassinating any who dared challenge his title and position. The Twilight Father had, of course, been tasked with retrieving the Dragon Soul. Marla the Enchantress, a high ranking cultist, was keeping well away from the battle, hoping that the Twilight Father would never return.
Blackhorn was just a soldier; he knew nothing of the dark magics that the leaders used or the ones that the cult practiced. He barely understood who the Old gods were, but he didn’t care. He didn’t believe in the Old Gods or the Titans; all he knew was war. He had been a soldier during the Battle for Mount Hyjal against the Burning Legion where he had seen Archimonde die. After that, he had been unemployed until the Scourge War, but once that had concluded, there was nothing left for a rugged old veteran. But the Twilight’s Hammer accepted him and his skills. He cared not for the ravings of a mad dragon, the only thing he cared about was this; something big was going to happen, weather it was something that the cult conjured or if the Elder Ones really would come, he did not know, but only those with the Twilight’s Hammer would survive. And he wasn’t really quite sure if even the regular cultists would live through it.
So, he had been quietly working his way up in the ranks of the cult until he had secured the title of Warmaster; commander of the soldiers of the cult. But even then, that wasn’t very high. But after Deathwing’s defeat at the Bastion of Twilight, when the Aspect of Death had ordered the Siege, he had found that most of those above him had been wiped out, and that he was second in command of all of the Twilight’s Hammer Cult.
Blackhorn shook his head, he didn’t know what to do with this newfound power, and he also realized that he may become the leader of the cult. The first ambitious plots that he had ever had seeped into the Warmaster’s head. If he was leader of the Twilight’s Hammer, then he would know the secrets of these fabled Old Gods, most likely he would learn that everything was fake. But he would have a gigantic army at his command, and even if it was all fake, the Twilight’s Hammer was still feared, and fear drove the wheels of victory.
If he became ruler of Azeroth…Blackhorn shook these dangerous thoughts from his head. His position was fine, he would survive in it and that was all that mattered. He didn’t know anything about ruling a world, all he knew was war, and he was content as the Warmaster.
Joy flooded into what was left of Ultraxion’s heart. The dreadful abomination unleashed his horrifying acidic twilight flames on the helpless defenders. All who came at him died horribly, writhing as the acid ate away their flesh and the flames burned them. He laughed as they died. He pulled in more energy and the powers of the twilight burned through his very veins. But contrary to Deathwing’s belief, Ultraxion was very smart and very mad. Ultraxion knew that Deathwing was as much an unnatural monster as he was but Deathwing was a black dragon; Ultraxion was a twilight dragon; the dragonflight of the Old Gods.
It was he who should command these soldiers to victory, he who should usher in the Hour of Twilight! Ultraxion saw Deathwing’s signal and the nightmarish dragon turned towards the command center and flew towards it. Deathwing was in command right now, but Ultraxion knew what would really happen when the Hour of Twilight finally came.
The faceless ones pounded against Benedictus’ shield of light for a few moments and then dispersed; giving up because they had no spellcaster with them to break the holy shield.
Archbishop Benedictus sighed with contentment; as if something marvelous had just happened and he had benefited immensely. The holy man turned towards the shamans he had rescued and smiled; his homely face brightening and filling with delight.
“My friends,” he said, “Are you well? Is the Dragon Soul safe?”
Thrall nodded, “Several assassins have tried to stop us but we have overcome them. Is the way clear to the Chamber?”
Benedictus smiled again, “The evil ones that have breached the Temple have not ascended to the higher levels yet. But you may be vulnerable at several points from outside strikes. Proceed with caution.”
Hargath grinned too, “Well, it looks like the worst of our trials are over. Now let’s go kick some molten dragon butt!”
Benedictus held up a forefinger, forestalling the shamans, “You must not let your guard down; a drakonid who was here earlier said that he heard a rumor that the Twilight Father himself lurks in the Temple.”
Hargath snorted, “The leader of the Twilight’s Hammer here? Preposterous!”
Benedictus turned to the dwarf, “Never underestimate that cult. Or do you want another Iso’rath to happen?”
The leader of the Earthen Ring grimaced. He did not like to be reminded of the butchery that happened on that dark day.
The Archbishop turned to the World Shaman, “May I see the Dragon Soul? I would like to see what has sparked so much bloodshed.”
Thrall nodded and pulled out the simple, small, golden disk. For an instant, a flicker of longing shone in Benedictus’ eyes as he stared at the Soul, but then it was gone.
The orc stored the Soul back under his cloak and Benedictus looked back into Thrall’s eyes, “So much pain,” the Archbishop said, “for so little a thing…”
Erunak cleared his throat, “By your leave, Archbishop?”
Benedictus embraced Thrall and bowed to other shamans, “Good luck my friends. The love of our infinite Light who shed his pure and holy blood for us will always be with you…even in the heart of darkness.”
The shamans turned to leave and a shadow seemed to fall over Benedictus’ eyes as he said, “May the Hands of the Light shelter you through your walk through the Valley of Death.”
Then the Archbishop struck.
Waves of light wrapped around Hargath and the other shamans from behind, but ignored Thrall.
A blast of power threw Thrall to the ground and Benedictus turned to the fallen World Shaman, “And now, Thrall…you will give the Dragon Soul to me.”
Thrall stood and drew the Doomhammer, the World Shaman crackled with power, “Why, Benedictus? You were a figurehead of the Light! The Light’s grace was bestowed upon you.”
The former Archbishop spat, “The Light? I serve a stronger power now…I have been chosen over all other mortal servants. I am the Twilight Father!”
Benedictus struck again, using the powers of the Light he had forsaken. Thrall countered with blasts of fire and air, using water and earth to keep the Twilight Father on his toes.
Benedictus laughed, “I am the leader of the Twilight’s Hammer. I hold domain over the forces of the Old Gods! I shall be given immortality and I will bask in the power of the true rulers of this world!”
Thrall blasted Benedictus and he slammed against the far walls. The former Archbishop got to his feet and unleashed his fury. The Twilight Father now fought with the dark powers of his new master as well. Light and dark intertwined as they flew from Benedictus’ hands.
The World Shaman blocked this new attack with his powers, “The Dragon Soul will never be yours, Benedictus. Surely you see that Deathwing is insane? Why waste your life serving a mad dragon? Why waste your faith?”
The Twilight Father sneered, “What does Deathwing have to do with anything? He is a temporary Herald and will be cast aside once his task is complete.”
The image of Deathwing’s corpse impaled on top of Wrymrest in the End Time came into Thrall’s mind. The orc pushed aside the Twilight Father’s spells and said, “What is to stop the Old Gods from casting you aside in the same way?” Benedictus roared with fury and pushed towards the weakening World Shaman.
Deathwing was furious. Warlord Zon’ozz, Yor’shaj the Unsleeping and Morchok did not return to the base, which meant they were dead. He had also received reports that Thrall had reached Wrymrest. So Arcurion and Asira Dawnslayer were dead as well, the Twilight Father was the only thing standing between Thrall and the Aspects.
Ultraxion, Blackhorn, Grithia the twilight dragon and Marla the Enchantress stood by their commander, patiently waiting orders.
Deathwing turned to his remaining commanders, “The time has come. Grithia I need you to lead the faceless ones and the Twilight Dragonflight. Drive my soldiers straight into the heart of the Temple and burn it to the ground. Go.”
Grithia curtsied gracefully and transformed into her true form and took flight. Deathwing turned to Marla, “You and Blackhorn command my cult so that we can keep the defenders penned in so that the faceless ones do their work.”
Blackhorn mounted Garonia and took flight without a word, but the Enchantress gasped, “My Lord Deathwing, I must stay back and oversee the battle from a distance. I am no soldier!”
The Aspect of Death laughed, “Do you think I don’t know your plans, Marla? I know that you are waiting for the Twilight Father to die. But the Twilight Father is a soldier and his magic powers are stronger than yours. The Father has proved his worth to me and has earned my respect! He is actually doing something to bring us victory and usher in the Hour of Twilight. Now carry out my orders or I might change my mind about letting you live!”
With a gulp, the frightened cultist took off at a dead run. The Destroyer turned to his greatest creation, “Ultraxion…you have been a faithful servant to me. I have a special task for you. If the Twilight Father fails…if Thrall gets by him, you must go to the platform on the right side; the shamans will pass by there to reach the Chamber of the Aspects. You will kill them there…you will bring my Dragon Soul to me. Go and fly near the platform and see if they come! Do
Archbishop Benedictus, the Twilight Father, came at the World Shaman, wielding the powers of the dark and the Light together in an unholy union. Thrall countered the Light spells with fire and the darkness of the Old Gods’ with pure water. Doomhammer shook with the powers of the elements.
The Twilight Father threw Thrall to the ground, powers of darkness entwined with light, making a deadly spike, slowly creeping towards the orc shaman’s chest. Channeling all of his strength into air, Thrall desperately tried to slow the impending spike.
Benedictus yawned, pretending that it was taking him no effort to slowly kill the World Shaman, “Give up, Thrall. Give me the Soul and I will let you and your companions live.”
Thrall gasped with the effort and he could see that Benedictus was struggling too, “How could you betray the Light? You were so strong in your faith; what could have possibly made you turn away?”
The Twilight Father suppressed a grunt of effort and tried to act like he was not sweating, “I saw the truth. I know what will happen now. I rule the Twilight’s Hammer; and in the Old Gods’ names I will kill you!”
Thrall pushed the spike back a little bit, “Come back to the Light, Benedictus. It is never too late to turn back.” Benedictus snorted at Thrall’s offers of redemption.
Thrall just needed a distraction. Thrall directed a tiny bit of his Earth power away from the spike, and it slid back into its normal position, almost reaching his skin, The Earth power bended the wall behind Benedictus into long, sharp, jutting spikes. Benedictus’ attention flickered just a little bit and Thrall struck out. But the former Archbishop was fast and he quickly knocked Thrall’s attack aside and drove the spike in further. The spike nicked the skin above Thrall’s heart.
Thrall’s energy was gone; he could only hold the spike at bay for a few moments longer. The Dragon Soul called to him. “Take it. Use its power for just a moment. Destroy the Twilight Father so that you can bring it to the Aspects…” The sickly sweet taint of the Old Gods rushed through the Soul and into him, tempting him. If he took up the Dragon Soul now, he would never be able to put it back down.
Ignoring the fetid whispers, Thrall looked into the face of his tormenter. The Twilight Father gloated over his oncoming victory; another minute, and Thrall would be dead and the Soul lost, along with the rest of Azeroth.
Thrall called in one last desperate attempt, “Come back to the Light, Benedictus. The Light loves you! Do you think that the Old Gods love you? Do you think they even know you exist…or care? You are pawn in this position, come back into the ever forgiving arms of the almighty Light.”
And in that instant, Benedictus wavered, his spike contracted for a second, the powers of light and darkness trying to overcome each other. And then the spike was thrust back towards Thrall, but in that brief moment, Thrall’s strength, which had been directed to pushing back the spike, was forced forward. Quickly, Benedictus threw up a shield of light…but it did not come. Benedictus shrieked in shock and horror; for his moment of doubt, the Old Gods had stripped him of his powers. Thrall’s push of air obliterated the shaft of intertwined magics and hurled Benedictus backwards…on to the newly formed wall spikes.
As three spikes were driven through Benedictus’ middle, the former paladin gasped in shock and horror and…fear. Blood trickled from the Twilight Father’s mouth and the light faded from the Archbishop’s eyes. Benedictus looked into the face of his one time victim, “I looked into the eye of the Dragon…and despaired…”the Twilight Father gave one last shudder, and his soul went to the Void.
This is how I imagine the fight against Shannox and the armies of Ragnaros went in the Firelands.
Thousands of fire elementals, fire revenants, cinder spiders and flamwalkers rushed into the ranks of the Avengers of Hyjal. Huge magma behemoths thundered into the battle as magma worms burst up through the ground and fire hawks swooped down. Hundreds of charhounds rushed in and tore soldiers of the Horde and Alliance to pieces.
The Earthen Ring came in with their water spells to put out the fire elementals and revenants but the Druids of the Flame arrived and countered the shamans.
Half of the Cenarion Circle fought on the ground and the other half flew in the air with the Horde and Alliance flyers. There were not very many fire hawks at the Molten Fields so the Avengers of Hyjal dominated the skies and were able to rain arrows down on the armies of Ragnaros unhindered.
Shannox stood on his ledge with his pet charhounds, his bodyguards, the Kelbnar and Fah Jarakk. Two fire hawks winged down and lighted next to Shannox and then they turned into the Harbingers of the Flame that were in charge of the Druids of the Flame in the Molten Fields.
Shannox looked them up and down, “We need Alysrazor and her fire hawks now! Our enemies are picking us off with arrows from above.”
One of the Harbingers sneered at the flamwalker commander, “We can manage without them for a little while longer. Or we can release it now.”
Shannox shook his head, “Not yet. But the Kelbnar can rip them apart!” he gestured and the Kelbnar took off.
The magma behemoths smashed through the ranks of the Cenarion Circle and the druids were powerless to stop them. The Earthen Ring shamans summoned large stone behemoths from the tortured ground to rise up and combat the magma monstrosities.
The Horde and Alliance pushed the flamwalkers and charhounds back, but then, the Kelbnar was among them as an unstoppable juggernaut. The Kelbnar ripped through the lines of the Horde and Alliance and flamewalkers poured through the breach. The Kelbnar retreated and let the flamewalkers and lesser charhounds do their work.
Meanwhile, the Cenarion Circle, Earthen Ring and revenants pushed up halfway across the Molten Fields. Shannox could make out the faces of his enemies.
Fah Jarakk muttered something about, “Going to help,” and strode off the ledge and one of the Harbingers turned into a fire hawk and flew away.
These three armies knew that the Horde and Alliance were in deep trouble so they turned and pushed towards the Horde and Alliance. Any enemy caught between the two forces was destroyed. Now all of the Avengers of Hyjal were combined and they forced their way upward until the fighting was happening all around Shannox.
The Shadow Wardens were unstoppable. As silent as shadows, they fought were the battle was fiercest and yet only three Shadow Wardens had died so far.
Shannox whirled around and saw that the enemy had made it to the ledge. The Horde Commander, High Warlord Cromush, stood on the ledge with fifteen elite orc warriors called the Kor’kron.
Fire balls came to the Harbinger of the Flame’s hands and Shannox’s two bodyguards advanced. The Harbinger released her fire balls which incinerated two Kor’kron and the two flamewalker swung their axes and left two Kor’kron headless. The Harbinger released an inferno that saved the flamewalkers’ lives and ended the lives of the remaining Kor’kron. Cromush leapt over the hungry flames and his ax thudded into one of the flamewalker’s chest. Leaping over the flamewalker’s dead body and dodging another fire ball, Cromush ran up and with a mighty blow, separated the Harbinger of the Flame’s body from her head. Cromush turned to the last flamewalker. With a mighty swing, the flamewalker rushed for Cromush’s head, but the orc commander leapt over the blow and split the bodyguard’s skull with his ax.
Cromush turned to face Shannox and Rageface and Riplimb growled menacingly. “Your all out of tricks now,” said Cromush with a grin.
Shannox slowly drew his two axes and smiled slyly and his one eye blazed with evil glee, “If that is what you think,” he said, “Then you are sadly mistaken!” Shannox whistled and the Kelbnar leapt up on the ledge and charged.
Cromush only came up to the Kelbnar’s knee. The monstrous fiery teeth chomped down but Cromush dodged and the Kelbnar rushed after him. Giant claws smashed down and Cromush pushed himself under the huge charhound and smashed his ax into the Kelbnar’s chest.
The Kelbnar howled and leapt away from Cromush who had held on to his ax and it had come out of the Kelbnar when it jumped away. But the Kelbnar was not done yet, not by a long shot! It bounded forward and Cromush’s ax crashed down on the Kelbnar’s neck. But the first born of the charhounds turned and growled and it sank low as it prepared to leap at the offending orc.
Cromush charged forward and it was a horrible decision. The Kelbnar leapt on top of him, knocked the ax out of his hands and lunged for his neck. But before the red hot teeth could close around his neck and kill him, a troll shaman appeared on the ledge and with a gust of air, blew the Kelbnar off of Cromush and sent it smashing down on the ledge. The shaman then created thousands of little needle sharp diamonds and sent the hurtling towards the Kelbnar.
Cromush got to his feet and scooped up his ax as the Kelbnar howled in pain as the thousands of crystals sliced through its body. The Kelbnar struggled to its feet and started to half run half wobble towards Cromush. The High Warlord rammed the Kelbnar and got badly burned but the Kelbnar was knocked off its feet and landed on it side. Cromush raised his ax and brought it down and he cleaved right through the Kelbnar’s body. The Kelbnar gave on last agonizing howl, and then it died.
Cromush turned and saw, to his horror, that Rageface and Riplimb had killed the shaman and now they ran back to there maser.
Shannox quivered with rage, “You will pay for that!” he said and then he and his charhounds charged.
Cromush’s ax and Shannox’s two axes clashed as they fought. Cromush tried to hold off Shannox and avoid the two charhounds that were lunging at him. Cromush whirled and his ax smashed into Rageface’s chest. The charhound howled his last and fell.
Shannox’s face contorted with rage and grief, “You murderer! How could you kill such a noble animal! Sic ‘em Riplimb!”
Shannox’s axes became a blur as they fought across the big ledge. Riplimb crouched low and circled behind Cromush and lunged with blinding speed. But Cromush had already jumped and Riplimb sped under him and then Cromush landed on top of Riplimb who charged about and knocked Shannox over. Cromush severed Riplimb’s head and the charhound fell to the ground.
Shannox was back up, “Riplimb! No...NO! HOW COULD YOU!” he yelled and he charged Cromush and their axes smashed together.
Malfurian and Captain Saynna Stormrunner arrived back at the Molten Fields with reinforcements for the Avengers of Hyjal. They joined the battle against Ragnaros’ dwindling forces. Most of the charhounds had been sacrificed so that the remaining Druids of the Flame could pull away from the front lines and the cinder spider force had been desecrated. With the charhounds and cinder spiders gone, the forces of Ragnaros’ had nothing to sacrifice in their stead. There wasn’t a single fire hawk left in the sky and the magma worms were pretty much gone and there was only a couple Magma Behemoths left too.
When the Druids of the Flame retreated, the shamans of the Earthen Ring were able to move in with their waves of water and had caught the fire elementals and revenants off guard and
unprepared. Most of them had been wiped out instantly which left the flamewalkers making up the bulk of the army and they were being swiftly cut down.
The remaining Harbinger of the Flame knew that they had only one option; she gathered what was left of the Druids of the Flame and they called for it, responding to their call, the giant magma worm that had been tamed earlier and was two times bigger than Ragnaros, burst up in the middle of the ranks of the Avengers of Hyjal.
Its teeth crashed down and killed many then it shot fire which vaporized fifty soldiers. They shot arrows at it and slashed it with their swords, but it was too powerful. The Harbinger of the Flame laughed.
Cromush pushed Shannox away, but the infuriated flamewalker general swung his two axes with fury. Cromush was forced back by Shannox’s blows and he stumbled over the headless body of the Harbinger of the Flame. Shannox twisted and forced Cromush to turn. Still being driven backwards, Cromush tried to distract Shannox but the Supreme Commander of Ragnaros’ armies would not be dissuaded. Cromush then realized that Shannox was trying to force him into the fiery dead body of the Kelbnar.
Cromush lunged past Shannox and received a deep slash across his thigh. Cromush tried to ignore the pain as Shannox whirled around to face him. Cromush lunged upwards and feinted which caused Shannox to block up at the same moment Cromush slashed down and Shannox lost his arm.
Shannox howled in pain and then he viciously hacked at Cromush. The orc warlord thought that Shannox would be less skillful with one arm, but he was mistaken. Shannox’s one remaining ax met Cromush’s as they fought.
The great magma worm even towered above everyone. All spells and weapons were useless against it. Not even the large goblin bombs could bust its carapace. The giant worm’s fire claimed more lives and then, the unexpected happened.
Malorne arrived on the molten fields, bringing with him a hundred members of the green dragonflight. The dragons all flew around the magma worm and unleashed their emerald flames against it. The giant worm grabbed a dragon out of the air and killed it. It unleashed fire into the burning skies and ruined the bodies of several more dragons, who fell burning to the ground, crushing more mortals. Malorne charged forward, skewering the great worm upon its mighty horns. The dragons took advantage of its weakness and unleashed their flames again. The worm collapsed, consumed by emerald flames, and died, leaving nothing but a massive charred husk behind.
The Harbinger of the Flame’s smug grin disappeared as the magma worm died and the Avengers of Hyjal swarmed over them. Robbed of her easy victory, she surveyed what was left of Ragnaros' destroyed forces and her burnt skin turned white as snow. The Harbinger of the Flame turned into a fire hawk and took flight just as the last Druid of the Flame was killed below her. She winged away but a green drake swooped down upon her and grabbed her neck. She shrieked and her lifeless body turned back into a night elf.
Shannox knocked the ax out of Cromush’s hands and lunged for the kill. Cromush fell to the ground and rolled over to the dead body of a fire naga bodyguard. Cromush grabbed the sword from the dead flamewalker and leapt to his feet. Cromush dodged a blow from Shannox and sliced off his remaining arm. Cromush then drove the sword through Shannox’s chest and then swiftly pulled it out and flung it away.
Blood poured from Shannox’s arm stubs and the hole in his chest. His one eye widened in a mixture of shock, sorrow and anger. His mouth sagged open and his body heaved but he managed to get his last words out, “The pain…Lord of Fire…it hurts!” he then fell over sideways and breathed his last.
Cromush retrieved his ax and noticed that the battle was finished. The supreme might of the flamewalkers and their fierce charhounds was destroyed. Of all of the soldiers who came to fight for Ragnaros, only Fah Jarakk had survived.
Its kind of sloppy, virtually a rough draft, but I thought you might enjoy it anyway :)
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