They really could heal. Well, of course they could heal, duh. They were paladins of Ragnaros.

It had begun three years ago when a barrel of beer had been delivered to the Manufactory by accident. It was meant to go upstairs but Argelmach wasn't stupid. With the help of his gnomish technicians and his apprentice, he drank the lot before the idiots upstairs ever realised that they were a barrel short. I never realised that he was physiologically capable of being drunk. He makes a very realistic Dwarf. When I finally found him three days later in the middle of Molten Core, riveted to the ceiling, he had already declared himself Grand Heirophant of Ragnaros and started mass-producing automated paladins. It was amazing how many Gnomes were stupid enough to join his cult. The workforce had quadrupled overnight.

As we made our way out of the mountain, taking care that I did not slip from the chain and plunge screaming into the searing volcanic depths to be immolated instantly, I tried to use reason to dissuade my 'party' from coming along.

"Two golems trying to sneak into Ironforge are going to be noticed." I explained, "And we can't very well barge in through the front gate!"

A pause. Then one of the golems replied, writing in the notepad it had taken from Argelmach's desk:

LF21M FOR RAID ON IRONFORGE.

I couldn't stop it in time to prevent myself from being showered by LFG notes. There were golems EVERYWHERE in the Burning Steppes.

"You wouldn't fit in the tram!" I said, "You wouldn't get through the door, and you golems can't bend down, can you?"

The golems seemed convinced by this. Turning on their heels, they lumbered off in the opposite direction. The self-proclaimed leader stretched out a massive stone arm and their 21 friends stopped. They looked restless. If they hadn't been animated bits of rock, I would have sworn I saw disappointment on their faces.

It occurred to me that I had no idea how I was going to sneak into Ironforge. While I could pass for Human if I wore a hooded cloak, I spoke no Common and only some Dwarven in a Dark Iron accent. I didn't know my way around the grand Capital and I certainly didn't know how I was going to steal huge crates of iron heads and drag them back halfway across the continent. I sat on a rock, staring into the sky at a swarm of tiny red dragonlings following their mother to roost. I wish I was a dragon, I thought, so I could just fly where I needed to go.

"Any ideas?" I turned to the golems. After a minute or so, a piece of paper appeared in my lap.

I FIND PRAYING TO RAGNAROS USUALLY HELPS.

I sighed. It was as good an idea as any. Crossing my legs, I closed my eyes put my hands together in prayer as I had seen Argelmach do.

"Oh holy Ragnaros." I said, "I, favoured disciple of the Grand Heirophant, beseech thee for aid. Please aid me in my time of hardship."

Suddenly, the ground rumbled and erupted in a shower of magma, almost incinerating one of the golems. Fearing for my life, I threw myself down and put my hands over my head. I heard a deep rumbling voice in my head. In that voice I heard the roar of fire, and a rusty grating that revealed the corruption of the almighty elemental.

VERY WELL, FOOLISH MORTAL, I WILL AID YOU IF YOU PROVIDE A SERVICE FOR ME.

"Wh... what would one such as you need from me?"

I AM HUNGRY, said the flaming behemoth, NONE COME TO MY LAIR ANY MORE. THERE ARE MORE TEMPTING PRIZES ELSEWHERE. NEW AND MORE DANGEROUS CHALLENGES. I AM OF THE OLD WORLD AND I FEAR I SHALL DIE WITH IT.

I bowed my head. It was true that not as many people went down to the Core any more. Argelmach preferred the peace and quiet - they always wanted to go through him first.

FIND ME FOOD, it roared, FIND ME TWENTY-FIVE ADVENTURERS AND BRING THEM HERE TO BE SACRIFICED.

"Er..." I stammered, "Is this the next chain in my quest? Is it like a PVP quest?"

I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF KILLING THE ADVENTURERS MYSELF, rumbled Ragnaros, JUST PERSUADE THEM TO COME TO ME.

I sighed and walked back to the Mountain.
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