Chapter 10: Secrets of Stonetalon
(--Reviews wanted please)--
An hour after the entrance into Stonetalon Mountain…
"Stonetalon Dungeon is truly an amazing, and dark place" Alaric, Lord of the Blood Elves spoke to himself.
"Milord, the passage splits up ahead. Which way do we take?" an footman commented.
Alaric stared ahead at the split. The enormous cavern once again broke into two more passages. "We shall first take the right" he answered, unsure of what passage to enter, he left a provost guard to lead them back at the entrance of the tunnel.
Deeper they delved into the hollow mountain. It was quiet, and shadowy. Eventually, they came upon what they dubbed, the Empty Causeway.
"What is this place?" Dethal said in amazement. Before them, was the largest indoor space they had ever seen. A huge river of boiling magma flowed, whilst a bridge stretched across it. Across, on the other side, gigantic statues of past gods and heroes stood erect.
Upon a ledge in front of the bridge was a smaller stair case. Alaric, curious, proceeded up the stair case, thinking he could get a better view. "Dethal, Alleira, see this!" he shouted to two of his brethren below.
Dethal had come a long way with Alaric since the "Year of Chaos" and the fall of Quel'thalas. He ran up with vigor, his gold and red armor glinting in the dim everlasting torches. Alleira, another Elf from Quel'thalas had also fallen into his quest. She was agile, smart, and so fair. Since Eolas' failure in the Battle of Mulgore, they had become his two most trusted advisors.
"What is it Lord Alaric?" Alleira echoed running up the stair case.
"Fantastic is it not?" Alaric said, staring ahead in awe. A literally half kilometer deep and wide space was filled with books and tomes. It had hit them that this was once a gigantic library, housing ancient Night Elf histories. "Who in their right mind, even the Night Elves, after their magical purges, would leave all these tomes to turn to dust?"
"Perhaps the Kaldorei have forgotten the books, or perhaps they have been lost since the Sundering sire" Dethal suggested.
"Perhaps…We should take some of these with us. Maybe they could help us later" Alleira then said picking up one of the blue leather cover tomes.
"Wretches! Away from the Tomes of the Titans!" a voice bellowed. A gigantic thing emerged from the shadows in the distance. It was covered in a black robe, and donned deep black armor, yet it seemed to be ethereal. Where its head was supposed to be was a flowing blue energy. "I am the Oracle's Guardian of this place! You are invaders, and insurrectionists. This place holds a dark curse, so turn back now.
"I will not let a mongerer like whatever you are get in my way. This is salvation we are after, and you cannot steal that away from us. We have nothing to lose!" Alaric shouted back.
The Guardian lifted his glowing navy blue axe and swung it down on the Blood Elves. Alaric barely dodged the attack, strands of hair cut off.
"Asetha Barana!" he conjured. A sheet of flame enveloped the Guardian. Alleira let loose a blast of green energy that sped towards the Guardian that knocked off its helm. Then, together, all three of the Blood Elf's let loose a tidal wave of energy that smote the Guardian. The fight was short, but had drained a lot of energy. The remnants of the Guardian lay on the charred remains of books and the floor.
"Turn back now! There is an evil in this place, I was sent to protect those who tried to enter it. Turn back…now…" the Guardian stuttered.
"Old and wise fool. I will not stop. There is too much to lose" Alaric said sadly. And with that reply, Alaric threw down his rune sword on the Guardian's helm, shattering the ancient onyx metal. "I suggest we get a move on. Dethal, Alleria, return to the main group. I shall be with you momentarily" The two nodded and set back down the flight of stairs.
Alaric rummaged around in the wreckage of the Guardian, and found its battle axe. On large axe was enscribed a difficult language. Alaric only understood bits and pieces of it. It said something about 'The Power', and 'The Titans', and 'The Curse'. Nevertheless, he picked it up, and continued down back to his comrades.
With the huge axe slung over his shoulder, he led the group cautiously over a bridge that ran across a flowing river of searing magma. Again and again they passed more and more human skeletons. There were also Orc bones littered in the passage ways as well.
After more seemingly endless passageways and a surprise from enchanted Rock Golems, found itself in front of two massive doors that had been slightly opened. The gates, as Alaric concluded, led to the main chamber.
"It seems we are not the first people to enter this cavern. The door has ben opened before us" Alleria spoke.
They were adorned with gold inscriptions of trees with pure silver leafs and a single sentence carved into it. Strange-Alaric recognized it as an archaic Night Elf form of written word.
"Whomever passes this door, shall be led to the Oracle's Chamber"
Alaric first passed into the room through the opened gates. The air was stale…old. In the middle of the perfectly geometric square room, was a statue of a Night Elf warrior sentinel on her tiger mount. It was covered with green moss and tangling vines. Then, its eyes lit with pink flourecence and a voice echoed.
"Whomever passes this door, shall be led to the Oracle's Chamber. The Heart of Azune has been returned, and the Key of the Guardian inserted. The path is open"
Alaric grunted in response to the strange echoing voice. He had heard of the ancient tales of Azune, who had lost her heart, never to have it returned to her living body.
"So the myths are true" Alaric said under his breath. "Let us proceed to the Chamber of the Oracle"
The Blood Elfs continued over the energy bridge and into a truly massive chamber. At the end of it was an empty throne, and to the sides cases and shelves, and sudden drop offs into the abyss.
After much searching of the shelves an cases that held much knowledge and many artifacts from a better time, Alaric found his prize.
He held up four shimmering glass vials. The vials themselves seemed to have a magical essence, and were softly glowing in the dim light of the Chamber.
"Behold Dethal, the prize of Stonetalon!" he exclaimed.
"Milord, what is it?" a Spell Breaker behind him queried.
"This, my brethren…These, are the Vials of Illidan, whom carried the Waters of Eternity to a new resting place on Mount Hyjal. His brave and glorious soul will live on forever, wherever he may be; dead, or alive somewhere. For this certain Night Elf is the one that against the will of the Druids preserved magic, in all its forms in these very vials. And so again they shall hold the Waters of Eternity. This time, for a greater purpose"
The speech and history of these mere glass containers had stunned them. The Blood Elfs then plundered the rest of the magical artifacts and tomes in the Chamber and then left it forever, never to return.
Climbing up the tunnel proved much harder than Alaric had thought. It took another two hours to clamber out of the pitch black tunnel covered in white dust and brown mud.
Immediately Alaric recognized Arrius walking towards him with something in his hand.
"Lord Alaric, hail! We weren't able to find a connecting passage in the tunnels. I lost a few men fighting off all sorts of strange creatures down there. When we forced our power upon a thunderlizard, it collapsed onto a pillar, and blocked our way from further advance"
"Don't worry about it Arrius. We weren't supposed to meet in the first place" The head Blood Elf replied coolly.
"Well, you may be pleased at this. It is the Lion Horn of Stormwind. I found this powerful artifact inside the cave. If the legends are true, it resurrects an army of those who died previously to fight beside whoever wields the horn. It is a powerful symbol of humanities better days" Arrius explained to Alaric the significance of the Horn.
Once again, the thinned ranks of the Expedition turned northwards, this time to last. Everyone knew in their hearts the greatest prize came close. The last full measure had begun. It was almost their hour.