Chapter 5
Brann stared at the two glowing treasures Rhonin had presented him. Illyria and Skorrn stood at Rhonin's side. He picked up the orb and smiled, instantly recognizing the runes inscribed on it.
"Aye. These runes are ancient Titan. While I'm not too familiar with 'em meself, I've a few linguists in the League who could probably pick out a few words here an' there." Brann nodded. He put the orb back in the box and picked up the fragment.
"This s'what really intrigues me." He said, putting on his microscopic glasses. He held up the fragment and examined it for quite some time. "It looks lie' a hilt to sem sort of…" His face lit up.
"Brann, what is it?" Rhonin, though pleased with Brann's fascination, was irked by his silence. Brann ran into his tent. Rhonin heard a lot of shuffling and things falling over. He impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for the Dwarf to return.
"I've got it!" Brann said, running at from his tent, with a beaming smile running across his face, a notebook hanging in one of his hands. He thrust the notebook into Rhonin's chest and went back to examining the fragment. Rhonin carefully opened the notebook, which had the words "Ulduar" scribbled on the cover, to a page that Brann had earmarked.
"Val'anyr, the Hammer of Ancient Kings?" Rhonin read aloud. "I've never heard of it."
"Val'anyr is an ancient, legendary weapon that is sai' te be the physical embodimen' of the power o'creation." Brann informed. "It's said te posses some sert'a supreme healin' power."
Skorrn smiled. He had spent his life studying the Shaman voodoo magic as a healer, one of the finest healers in all of the Horde. His skill as a healer was matched only by his skill as an officer, something Thrall had immediately recognized in him. In a rare moment of selfishness, he decided that Val'anyr would be his.
Rhonin had finished reading all of Brann's notes on the weapon.
"It says that Val'anyr was given to the king of the Earthen," Rhonin turned to Skorrn, "the ancestors of the Dwarves, and he used it to give life to all his brethren. The hammer was apparently destroyed in a war between the earthen and the iron dwarves that took place inside Ulduar. If this really is a fragment of Val'anyr, it would make sense that we would find it in here." He asserted.
Illyria nodded her.
"What do we do with this?" She asked.
"We find the rest of the pieces and assemble the hammer." Skorrn responded immediately.
"Who will wield such a powerful weapon?" She said, angrily fixing her attention on Skorrn.
Rhonin, detecting a conflict erupting, interjected.
"We'll never find all the pieces. And if we do, and only if we do, will we decide who will wield this powerful tool." He commanded. Illyria and Skorrn backed down.
Brann carefully placed the fragment back into the box.
"An' where did ye say this come from?" He asked Rhonin.
"It was found by one of your Gnome engineers inside the wreckage of the Flame Leviathan." He responded.
"All wrapped up in this 'ere box?" Brann continued.
"It would appear as though someone inside Ulduar wants to give us something." Rhonin nodded.
Illyria and Skorrn both agreed. Finding the fragment and the orb were one thing, but finding them in such a neat and obviously hand-crafted container was a quite different story.
"Well, we've got one piece and one orb. We shouldn't tell anyone about them. We'll let Brann keep them safe for now. Agreed?" Rhonin asked his fellow commanders. They both nodded. Brann took the small box and ran back to his tent, eager to stash their find.
* * *
Once the expedition cleared the wreckage from the gate that the Flame Leviathan had crashed through, they found their progress hampered by yet another gate. Without their siege engines, crashing through this new gate was an impossible task.
In front of the gate were two openings into two very different areas of Ulduar. To the left of the gate stood a raging furnace, with stone sentries standing in two perfectly formed lines around the furnace. To the right of the gate stood an open ground, with nothing but sky above it.
Deciding that the open ground would make an ideal place for a temporary settlement, the expedition quickly began to unload their supplies from the vehicles that remained. Many of the Horde soldiers grew impatient with the mundane task of unloading shipment and they confronted Skorrn, begging for a chance to explore Ulduar and fight. He took their complaints and went to Rhonin and Brann.
"I see." Rhonin said, a grimace spreading across his face. "Brann, do we know what that furnace is for?"
"If our studies our right, it's the home of one Ignis the Furnace Master. He'a gian' blacksmith who can create powerful stone sentries, like the ones lining that concourse. He dudn't present much of a threat, 'specially if he's holed up in there." Brann said, unimpressed by Ignis.
"Skorrn, why don't you take your forces and investigate the forge and the surrounding areas? Those sentries in there are sentient beings and probably server to deter intruders from interrupting Ignis. I'm sure they'll be enough to sate your soldiers' bloodlust." Rhonin said, dismissing Skorrn, who bowed and took leave.
He immediately informed his officers of the plan and word spread through the Horde ranks. Within minutes, they had all stopped carrying cargo and had geared up for battle.
Illyria noticed the work stoppage and cautiously approached Skorrn, who was donning his full battle regalia. She thought he was dressed quite ferociously, which surprised her since he was a healer.
"What's the meaning of this?" She asked, her impatience obvious.
"Do you see that forge over there?" Skorrn pointed towards the raging furnace in the distance.
"Yes. What of it?" Illyria responded.
"We going to go kill something over there. You stay here and unpack." Skorrn said, trying to escape Illyria, who laughed.
"You're kidding, right?" She eyed the Tauren.
"No. There's something over there that requires the immediate attention of…" Skorrn halted.
"Of what?" She pressed.
"…of our weapons." Skorrn responded. "We don't need the same creature comforts as you do. The Horde is used to roughing it. All we need is a space of land to sleep in. These fancy tents are meaningless to us."
"I see." She said, unimpressed.
"So we'll go kill some things while you set up your camp." He said, making a fast pace away from Illyria, who just laughed and shrugged.
Skorrn was grateful to get away from her. He knew she wouldn't understand and he didn't feel like wasting his time trying to explain it to her. He quickly returned to where his soldiers had been suiting up for battle.
"Soldiers of the Horde, fall in!" He bellowed and watched as his troops assembled. "We're going over to that forge over there to kill Ignis the Furnace Master and his stone sentries. The battle will be difficult and long, I'm sure. Steel yourselves and sharpen your wits. Lok'tar ogar!" He pounded his chest.
"Lok'tar ogar!" The soldiers echoed his cry.
He turned in place and began the march to the furnace. After his confrontation with Illyria, he felt the need to battle rising.
* * *
Not long after the Horde soldiers departed, the remaining expedition forces finished setting up camp. Illyria had noticed scorch marks all around the ground they had colonized. Rhonin and Brann assured her there were leftover scars from the ancient war that had raged inside Ulduar; she was not so quick to believe them.
It had been hours since the Horde soldiers had left, and they had made no communication with the expedition. Illyria wasn't worried, she knew of the ferocity with which even the lowliest of Horde soldiers fought. Night had begun to fall over the camp and Illyria was astonished by the view the open sky provided. She sat on the giant set of steps that led back to closed gate that impeded their march into Ulduar. Jacob joined her.
"The stars are gorgeous here." She said, resting her head on his shoulder. He ran a hand through her hair.
"They most certainly are." He fixed his gaze upwards. "How are you handling this partnership…"
A screech pierced their intimate silence. Illyria threw her hand over his mouth. She stood, alert.
"Did you hear that?" She asked.
"Hear what?" He responded.
"That screech." She said nervously.
Jacob had heard it, but thought nothing of it. Plenty of airborne creatures inhabited the Storm Peaks. He reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bird flying to its nest.
Illyria was about to sit back down when she heard the screech again. This time it was closer and more pronounced.
That's no bird. Jacob thought, alarmed.
Illyria wheeled around and stared at the camp. Something large zoomed over their heads. As it passed, it beat its wings, knocking them to the ground. Illyria immediately uprighted herself and stared at their campground; her heart skipped a beat.
The campground was on fire and was currently being attacked by an enormous, iron dragon.
* * *
Skorrn stopped for a moment to wipe sweat from his brow. His soldiers had been fighting Ignis' stone sentries for hours, with no sight of their maker. Judging from the amount of healing he and his fellow healers had to do, the sentries were brutal creatures. Only a few soldiers, pummeled by the sentries' massive fists and scorched by the flames that erupted from them, had been beyond saving and died. For an afternoon of fighting, a handful of soldiers were an acceptable loss.
He felt his mind again wondering to where the great Furnace Master was. By the hour, more and more sentries fell, until this point, when no more than five remained alive and intact. Proud of his warriors, Skorrn beckoned his troops to rest once the final sentries had been defeated.
While they drank and sat, Skorrn and Alona ventured to the roaring furnace at the end of the promenade where the sentries had once stood. Gash, one of Skorrn's lieutenants, had commanded a small group of soldiers to accompany him.
Skorrn was particularly interested in the clanging that resonated inside the furnace. Alona had noticed it too.
"Skorrn, what do you think that clanging is?" She asked.
"I am unsure. It's definitely coming from inside the furnace though." He said, puzzled. The troops that accompanied him walked ahead and peered into the furnace.
"It almost sounds like a smith pounding away at an anvil." Skorrn continued.
He could not have been more correct. Just as the phrase left his lips, a giant hand snatched up a few of the soldiers standing at the edge of the furnace. Skorrn could hear his man cry out in agony and caught a whiff of the putrid stench of burning flesh.
"RUN!" He screamed. And just as he turned his back, Skorrn saw a giant, a mace in one hand, and a cauldron of flames attached to his belt, erupt from the furnace.
"Insolent whelps!" It boomed. "Your blood will temper the weapons used to reclaim this world!" It snatched up the rest of the soldiers that had accompanied him.
Skorrn and Alona ran back towards the rest of the soldiers, who had just caught sight of Ignis the Furnace Master. Several of the Protection Warriors, Gash, Tharm, and Zubra'Jin ran towards Ignis and gained his attention. He began pounding on them furiously.
"Attack!" Professor Artrus yelled. The rest of the Horde soldiers unleashed on Ignis. Skorrn faced his healers.
"He's going to try and melt us down to our bones. Priests, maintain protective shields on as many people as you can. Our Shamans and Druids will have to heal burns as quickly as possible. Paladins, focus your healing powers on the Protection Warriors keeping Ignis' attention from the rest of us. He's going to beat them mercilessly." Skorrn commanded.
The Horde soldiers went to work chopping and blasting as much of Ignis' body as they could, but the giant was resilient. Skorrn was glad for his Priests; Ignis constantly emitted scorching infernos from his hands, singing anyone in his path.
Every so often, the giant would snatch up more soldiers to throw into his cauldron of magma. The healers worked furiously as they attempted to heal those trapped in the cauldron while they tried to escape.
As the battle raged on, Skorrn saw more of the sentries run towards their forces.
"Zubra'Jin, Gash, keep those sentries away from our soldiers!" Skorrn commanded. His officers obliged. They intercepted the sentries and unleashed a flurry of attacks meant to slow enemies, trapping them a safe distance away from the group.
Just after the sentries arrived, Ignis halted his attacks and seemed to be concentrating or meditating. Skorrn saw it as an opportunity to unleash a furious offensive barrage. His judgment could not have been more flawed.
"Attack!" He bellowed. The Horde soldiers doubled their efforts; Rogues sliced and diced at whatever part of the giant they could, the Balance Druids unleashed the power of Nature, and the Hunters unloaded their ammunition into the great Furnace Master.
In one swift movement, Ignis raised his hammer above his head, let forth a mighty bellow, and brought it down to the ground, creating an explosive shockwave. Those not killed by the smash found themselves thrust into the air by flame jets which had violently erupted from the ground.
Skorrn looked around as he was catapulted into the air. There was a look of sheer horror on his soldiers' faces that he had never seen before.
"SHIELDS, PRIESTS, SHIELDS!" He screamed, praying that his fellow healers would be able to mitigate some of the damage from the return trip. A few of the Priests that were still able to heal began placing shields over as many people as they could.
Skorrn was one of the first to hit the ground. He tried to land on his feet and jump up at the moment of contact, but the overwhelming downwards pull from gravity was too much to bear. He landed on his right hoof, feeling most of the bones in it shatter. He tried to muffle his agonizing cry, but found himself unable to do so. More of the healers and spellcasters crashed into the ground around him. A few soldiers, who had become disoriented during the eruption and let their bodies fly wildly through the air, came crashing down head-first, killing them almost instantly.
Unable to stand, Skorrn propped himself up on one of his totems and tried to heal as many soldiers around him as he could. He didn't think about himself or the massive amounts of blood he was probably loosing from his leg.
"Keep the spellcasters and melee footman alive, they're our only hope at killing this thing!" He screamed, the pain evident in his voice.
The damage dealers went back to work, unleashing whatever force they could muster, but Ignis was too powerful and the Horde had lost too many soldiers disabled or killed. Skorrn felt a moment of panic creep up on him, but he shrugged it away.
So I'm going to die here, in Ulduar. He thought.
He closed his eyes, seeking to meditate and communicate with the spirit of the Earth Mother one last time before his death. Somehow, through all of the chaos, Skorrn heard the sound of approaching mounts. He snapped his eyes open and looked behind him.
Some of the Kirin Tor's Mages, led by Rhonin, appeared at the far end of Ignis' concourse. They rode down the concourse at a blazing speed, offloading a major Arcane offensive into Ignis, who focused his attention on the Mages, who had shielded themselves with their Frost magic.
Skorrn had never seen the Kirin Tor in battle, but he had heard of their prowess on the battlefield. He was not disappointed. Within minutes of the Kirin Tor's arrival, Ignis had begun to stumble, feeling the effects of the wounds inflicted upon him by the Kirin Tor in addition to the damage done by the Horde's attacks.
"Assist them, now!" Skorrn commanded.
The Horde soldiers left standing summoned up whatever life they could and assisted the Kirin Tor in finishing off the mighty Furnace Master.
* * *
After Ignis fell, the Kirin Tor, who had brought a few Priests along, assisted the Horde's healers in restoring whatever life they could to the soldiers. Skorrn's initial estimate of their casualties had been high. The healers were able to mend and revive many soldiers. Still, there had been some losses. Most noticeably was one of Skorrn's officers. He stood over the body of Gash, one of the Warriors, and hung his head, offering a silent moment of thought for the brave soldier.
Rhonin ran to Skorrn, who was limping through the body piles.
"Gather your forces, we must return to the campground, the Alliance are under attack there. Quickly!" Rhoning barked.
Skorrn's remaining officers heard the order and looked him. He nodded. They began assembling the remaining soldiers as quickly as possible.
"What's happening at the campground? What threat do we face?" Skorrn asked, still weary from the battle with Ignis.
"A dragon." Rhonin responded, a jarring grimace evident on his usually bright face. Skorrn laughed.
"A dragon? The Alliance cannot handle a dragon?" He laughed some more.
"Do you honestly think we would have ridden over here at breakneck speed if this were some just regular dragon? Why don't you think with your head for a moment instead of with your ass, you moronic, masticating fool?!" Rhonin screamed.
Skorrn was not pleased with the Mage's response. He stood still for a second, his eyes shaking and his ears pounding with anger. Rhonin had insulted the Tauren in a way that cut straight to his core: calling him a cow.
He found himself at a crossroads. He could strike Rhonin, which would mend the injuries suffered by his ego, but would also result in their partnership falling apart. He could also let the insult go, taking it in stride for the greater good of their mission.
Skorrn chose to ignore Rhonin and immediately addressed his troops.
"Mount up and get back to the campgrounds immediately. We've got more problems there." He said quietly, avoiding eye contact with Rhonin, who seemed to be doing the same with Skorrn.
I will not disappoint Thrall. He thought, justifying his actions and attempting to mend his bruised ego.
* * *
Illyria wiped some sweat from her brow. The reprieve was only temporary; she found herself having to dodge a massive fireball that escaped the dragon's mouth again.
What was it Brann had called this one? Razor…fang? Razor…wing? She thought, carefully running from the fireball. Razor…scale? Razorscale!
The massive proto-drake had ambushed their camp, unleashing a barrage of fireballs towards their tents and supplies. The initial blasts had been deadly, killing many soldiers and igniting many of their supplies. Illyria's quick thinking had saved the camp from more devastation. She ordered the Hunters to load harpoons with chains into their guns and attach them to the dragon.
Once the chains had been firmly unloaded into its wings, the Hunters dragged the massive dragon to the empty part of their campground, near an unstable section of ground. The dragon had knocked more than a few Hunters over the side when it tried to flap its enormous wings, but the remaining ones held it in place surprisingly well. She had the spellcasters in the Alliance stand far away and in the opposite direction of the camp and then ordered them to unleash on the dragon. Confused and aggravated by the assult, the dragon tried to destroy the spellcasters, halting its attack on the campground.
Illyria had sent Rhonin to fetch the Horde soldirs; she knew she would need their assistance in killing the iron beast, but they had yet to return. She heard a few of the chains buckle.
"Reload those guns and get some more chains in it. We have to hold it steady until the Horde and the other Kirin Tor Mages return to help finish it off!" She commanded.
She didn't want to risk sending in the Warriors, Rogues, Feral Druids, and other melee footmen; one flap from its wings would send anyone in nearby range flying over the cliff. She would need all the spellcasters to help bring the dragon down.
She heard the thundering sound of the approaching Kirin Tor and Horde forces. They rode down into the campground and dismounted, charging towards the dragon.
"No! Wait!" Illyria screamed, but it was too late. The Kirin Tor and Horde forces unleashed on the dragon. They were still in front of the campgrounds and, more importantly, standing directly in front of Razorscale, who responded in kind by unleashing a powerful nova from its mouth, scorching many of the Kirin Tor and Horde spellcasters right where they stood.
Surprised and enraged by the new assault, Razorscale summoned up hidden strength and beat many of the chains from her wings. A few stalwart Hunters held their ground and yanked downwards as the beast flapped its wings up. The violent struggle between upward and downward forces did not end well for the dragon; Illyria shuddered as she heard a bone-wrenching snap, which originated from the dragon's wings.
The dragon let loose an aggravating and tortured screech which echoed through the camp. It shook off the final chains and charged straight for the campgrounds, scorching everything in its path.
The spellcasters pursued the dragon, casting whatever offensive spells they could, many of which missed the speeding dragon. Unable to fly, it ravaged the campsite. Illyria panicked, they were loosing soldiers and supplies fast.
Acting quickly, she summoned her horse from the impromptu stables and quickly mounted. She chased after the dragon, pushing her horse to its limits. She stopped by one of the remaining supply sheds and grabbed as many chains as she could carry. Quickly catching up to the dragon, she pulled up alongside of it. Steadying her horse, she carefully stood on its saddle. Chain in hand, she leapt towards the dragon
She landed the jump and dug her feet into its back. Aware of its intruder, the dragon screeched again. Being this close had amplified the creature's powerful cries. Illyria was startled by the loud cries but held her ground.
Slowly, she crept towards the creature's head and mounted herself on its neck. With one careful toss, she looped the chain around its neck. When she had both ends in her hands, she pulled it taught in an effort to slow down and restrain the creature.
Light give me strength. She prayed, immediately feeling an empowered might in her hands. She pulled the chains tighter, trying to choke the beast. It slowed to a walking pace, allowing the spellcasters to get close and unload on it.
She saw Jacob rally the melee footmen and charge the dragon. Skorrn organized his troops and coordinated their efforts with those of the Alliance. The dragon screamed in horrible agony as it felt its life coming to an end.
Illyria held onto the very hand. She was thankful for the spellcasters' accuracy; she only took secondary damage from some of the spells cast. With one last horrifying screech, the creature collapsed and died.
Jacob ran to the creature's head and helped his wife dismount. While she was climbing down, she saw a box inside its terrifying maw. Her heart racing, she reached into the its mouth and withdrew the package, which, in turn, made Jacob's heart race. She withdrew a box similar to the one found in the wreckage of the Flame Leviathan. She expected the contents to be the same.
As she turned and faced her troops, she saw many approving glances, not only from the Alliance and Kirin Tor soldiers, but also from many of the Horde too. She blushed a little bit. Brushing herself off, she found Skorrn, Rhonin, and Brann standing together.
"Now just what was that thing?" Skorrn asked Brann.
"Razorscale. She used te be known as Veranus, when she was in service o' Thorim, one o' the Titan guards of this prison. But he released her back inna the wild some time ago." Brann responded.
"Was she always bound by the iron plates on her body?" Skorrn asked, some sympathy for the creature brewing.
"Nay. Accordin' to the Sons o' Hodir, she was recen'ly captured by some Iron Dwarves an' brough' in 'ere. I'm guessin' that the iron platin' is the work of Ignis." He responded.
"Speaking of Ignis," Skorrn said, reaching into his bag, "I found another one of the boxes near the forge where we killed Ignis. It has another orb and a piece of the Val'anyr inside." He said, handing it to Brann.
"I found this inside Razorscale's mouth." Illyria said, wiping off the box she had just found, and giving it to Brann.
He held both the boxes in his hands.
"This is great. Thank ye. We're two steps closer te reassemblin' Val'anyr!" He said excitedly.
One thought raced through both Illyria and Skorrn's minds.
Who will wield Val'anyr, the Hammer of Ancient Kings?