Hall of Memories
Ulduar
An ancient musk filled the wide hall. It reeked of decayed flesh and parasitic mold. Six beaming stained glass windows stood majestically on opposing sides. Each side depicted a unique image that were ordered uniquely on the opposing wall. There was a powerful humanoid with a vast orange beard holding a trident, a female mermaid floating in carelessly in the water, and a pair of twin babies curiously exploring their new surroundings. Whoever designed these things must have had a twisted imagination to say the least.
Lorelei pushed herself slowly through the hall. Her muscles still hadn't fully recovered from the extended rest she was forced into not too long ago. The blood flowing through her veins began to burn. She couldn't remember the last time she meditated in ordered to quell the seething lust to devour magic. Though the blood elves were some of the smartest, powerful, and cunning races on Azeroth, they too had their drawbacks. If she allowed the addiction to consume her, then the only thing left in her future was taking on the form of one of those disgusting Wretcheds she'd only heard stories about.
Thankfully, her salvation was drawing closer with every approaching step. When she grew hungry, the voice filled her belly. When she was thirsty, the voice quenched her thirst. When she grew tired, the voice gave her strength.
The young elf passed the pair of red columns and ascended up the stairs. Her heart started to beat wildly. She must be getting closer to where the voice originated from. It continually hummed in the back of her mind. Only it could free her from that revolting image she had to suffer through. If it gave her the strength she so desperately required, Lorelei would gladly do its bidding. All it needed to do was ask.
At the end of the hallway, a giant stone face was carved into the wall. Golden pipes connected circular disks on the left and right side. A beam of white light emanating from the top of the shaped skull split the wall in two.
This must have been a door of some kind. Lorelei approached with caution. She extended her hand out carefully. There wasn't any specific button, trigger or lever nearby. Fortunately, this particular door didn't appear to be opened that easily. She cautiously touched the surface of the door. Her slender fingers caressed the hardened stone craving. The voice beyond was calling out to her. It was just beyond this barrier.
It is standing right behind you... Do not move... Do not breathe...
Light boomed within the eyes of the stone face. It exploded into a sea of endless white. The radiant energy swelled over the young elf. She braced herself against the oncoming blast but it was too late. Her body was consumed by the light. The world around her completely vanished. Her mind began to drift in the vast unknown before her. Lorelei's last thoughts hung onto the final words the voice had spoken to her. Whether it was merely a metaphor or a grave warning would soon be revealed.
Formation Grounds
Ulduar
Rayne cranked the arclight spanner several times over to ensure the final mounting bracket was tightly attached to the tank's back plate. If these were going to hold the barrels of pyrite properly, they had to be installed with the utmost precision. Should one of them just happen to slip off the rails it would make for a very short trip.
There were eight barrel brackets on each side of the tank save for the front. The last thing the paladin wanted to see happen was a barrel accidentally fall off the side. The damage would be catastrophic if it were to drop in the front of a moving vehicle. Keeping it aerodynamically sound was crucial but this particular decision was all done in the name of safety.
"Hey Weasel," Rayne called. "Did you finish that tinker I asked for?"
"Sure did!"
The gnome's reply nearly startled the deeply focused paladin. He was so ingrained in his work he didn't even notice the Weasel poignantly behind him.
"Here you go."
Weasel handed the left gauntlet to the paladin. He slipped it on ever so carefully as to not disturb any of the fine work that went into this craft.
"And how does this work again?"
"It's easy," the gnome grinned. "The detonator is already built into thumb. It can only be depressed by a magnet of opposing polarity which I had placed on the tip of your middle finger. Once the charges are set, all you need to do is tap them together and poof!"
The gnome made a bit of a spectacle by jumping and throwing his hands into the air.
"Poof?"
"Well, now that you mention it, with this much pyrite it's probably going to be a boom."
Rayne shook his head dolefully. While he normally appreciated the humorous antics of the gnome, this wasn't the time to be playing games. If the Leviathian Unit, as it aptly called itself before being disabled, was any indication about the horrors that lay within, everyone needed to put their best foot forward.
"Speaking of which," Rayne started. "How has the fusing come along?"
"Piece of cake," replied the gnome with a generous thumbs up. "Saelena actually lent me a hand on it. She may be quiet but the girl knows her way around explosives. We've got it all wired up exactly as you asked. All we need to do is place the housing units on the top of each barrel and we're good to go."
"Great, thanks Weasel."
Their design was simple. When ready, the tank would be driven straight towards the metal behemoth standing in the courtyard. Rayne would jump off and as soon as he hit the trigger, pitons stored in the housing units would drill into the glass, cracking the shell and exposing the pyrite to air that would cause it to explode. All they needed to do was make sure this thing could move and they'd be golden.
"Hey Findle!"
Rayne gave the hull of the tank three powerful knocks.
"Ouch," he whined. "Be careful out there would you? The echo is insane in here."
"Sorry," sighed Rayne.
The top hatch flipped open and from within the darkened interior, Findle popped out covered head to toe in grease and dusty debris. It was almost painful to look at him but the gnome was truly a master of his craft. If anyone could get this tank running again, it would be him.
"How's it going in there?"
"Weasel did a real number in here that's for sure," the gnome droned. "Took me a good while just to solder all of the transistors he blew. Thankfully, splicing the severed wires together was the easy part."
"What about the programming unit?" Rayne asked. "If the tank comes back online, how can we be sure it won't revert back to its original function?"
"Already taken care of!"
Findle dove back into the tank's core. From atop the opening, a battery shaped device came flying out. It was no bigger than a dagger and glowed with a faint blue aura. Rayne caught the device in his gentle grip and quickly realized just how fragile and powerful this unit was.
"This is it?"
The gnome nodded.
"That's the Leviathan's central processing core. Really advanced stuff. I couldn't recreate it if I lived to be a thousand. At least, not with my current tools anyways. That Mimiron must have a hell of a forge within those walls to be able to crank out something that sophisticated."
"Well I'm glad to hear it won't be any issue," Rayne blissfully replied. "This seems like a vital piece of its architecture. Can you get it running without it?"
"Yes and no," he begrudgingly answered.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I can definitely get it started. The problem stems from that processing core. It programs when to use the accelerator and the brakes. There is no manual switch. So once you get this tank started…"
"You can't get it to stop," the paladin finished.
They couldn't possible start this plan from this position. The pathway was directly north but the tank was pointed towards the west amidst the wreckage of the mekgineer chopper. In order to get this plan in motion, they were going to need to move this monster in the right direction.
"Alright, we'll tie some chains to the siege engines and drag the tank into position. Will you be okay in there while we move it?"
"As long as you don't load any of the pyrite to the hull I'm safer in here than I am out there."
"Good to know," Rayne smiled.
It was the first time he was touched by an elated emotion in what seemed like forever. The paladin didn't dwell on the thought for long. He placed the processing core in his pouch and quickly moved towards the remains of his fallen bike to dig through the piles of scraps to find the aforementioned chain.
"Raymond," a voice called from behind.
The noisy interference of metal scraping together nearly drowned out the sound entirely. It wasn't until Rayne caught a powerful shadow looming overhead that he turned to acknowledge the one calling out to him.
"Oh," he began. "Hey Narula."
The paladin returned to the scrap pile as the night elf continued.
"I was wondering," she delicately stated. "You appeared to suffer a great deal during the last battle. Would you like me to tend to your wounds?"
"Wounds?"
Rayne continued digging. He gave himself a quick once over and noticed his armor had a few more scraps and markings than usual. The missile barrage from early certainly took its toll but it was brief like the pain that followed.
"I'm fine," he replied. "Thank you Narula."
The paladin didn't even bother to turn and acknowledge her directly. Had he done so, he would have noticed the discouraging look that had befallen her gentle face. Out of all of the Templar Knights, Rayne always acknowledged her with the utmost warmth and care. Answering her genuinely compassionate question in such a cold way was not his style. Sadly, they didn't have time for pleasantries. The mission had to take priority.
"Cayden!"
The mage quickly darted to where he was called. A lofty length of chains were immediately put into his care.
"Take this and tie one end to the siege engine and the other to the hull of the tank."
"Right," Cayden curiously accepted. "Am I to assume we are going to be towing this vehicle somewhere?"
Rayne nodded.
"We'll need it to point directly down the hallway. It's got to be a straight shot since we can't steer the tank at all. Make sure you are precise in your measurement."
"Will do."
Cayden slung the chain over his shoulder and ran towards the closest siege engine. Out of the corner of the paladin's eye, he spotted the presence of Marcus ominously standing only a few feet away. Rayne acknowledged him with a quick glance before shifting back towards his planted shield. With one hefty tug, the paladin removed the steel barrier from the ground and slung it on his back where it belonged.
"Need me to do anything kid?"
The warrior was presenting a branch of friendship. They hadn't spoken since their previous argument and the tension built around the rest of the Knights was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Rayne like the how the way things were nor where they were heading if it followed the same path. He hated being upset at Marcus almost us much as he hated himself for the way he'd been forced to act since this mission began. This was no time to dwell on inconsequential things. The fence needed to be mended.
"Cut the chain I'd given to Cayden in half and tie it to the other siege engine. We're going to need all of the power we've got to move this thing in the proper position."
"It's a real shotgun wedding," the warrior quipped. "Or so I hear. Dwarves are a fickle bunch."
The paladin let out two rapid breaths that could have easily been mistaken for laughs. It was all Marcus needed to see to take off smiling. The two Knights eagerly completed the tasks assigned. In the blink of an eye, the warrior and mage had the chains tied and were sitting in the driver's seat.
Steam howled as Marcus and Cayden moved the siege engines into position. The draenei offered their assistance by properly affixed the loose chains on the tank's battering ram while the other two were piloting. Ademski returned a big thumbs up signaling the completion of their task. The siege engines roared as they slowly pulled forward. Once the chain was taught, the paladin gave them their final orders.
"You're all clear. Move out!"
Motors hummed as the siege engines slowly dragged the massive tank into position. Cayden directed the vehicles into their proper position thanks to the compass he cleverly kept tucked into his pocket along with the rest of his measuring and mathematical devices. Slowly but surely, the tank was pointing directly down the hallway, affixed north just as instructed, and ready to go.
"Alright, let's load these pyrite barrels."
Sam and Zari assisted in their own unique way by levitating the glass canisters off the ground. That way, even Weasel could push one into a mounting bracket without breaking a sweat. That's probably what they intended anyways. Neither one of them was a fan of manual labor.
As the barrels were being loaded, Rayne made his way to the top of the tank. He climbed up the massive iron wheels and gave the top latch a gentle pair of taps.
"All set Findle?"
The latch flung open. Findle dragged himself to the top of the tank and scraped off the thick layers of dust on his clothing.
"I was done five minutes ago. I was just enjoying some peace and quiet. You guys are too noisy out there."
Rayne chuckled quietly. Findle was gnome to throw a few jokes out there but he was anything but lazy. That's when the paladin's eyes caught the outlines of a few rolled parchments lining the gnome's back.
"And just what are these?"
With one quick swipe, Rayne snatched the scrolls. Careful measurements and designs could easily be seen through the initial cracks.
"Blueprints?"
"Give me those," begged Findle as he retrieved his precious sketches.
"You're not seriously going to rebuild –"
"This is a monumental piece of engineering built and designed by the tinkerer of tinkerers. You think I'd let you just blow it up without at least taking a few notes, did you?"
The paladin groaned to himself but in the end, let the gnome have his way. It was the least he could do for all of his help.
"How do I get this thing started?"
"Just flip the switch near the turret and you'll be good to go!"
"Sounds good."
Findle leaped off the tank just as the final pyrite barrel was being loaded onto the hull.
"Don't you go dying on me now," the gnome proclaimed.
"I won't," Rayne smiled back.
"I'm serious. I know you pocketed that processing core. If anything happens to you, the core could break and then I'll never be able to reverse engineer it."
The paladin scoffed half-offended and half-jokingly. He wasn't surprised that thought was on the forefront of the gnome's mind, he was surprised he actually said it.
"Alright everyone, stand clear."
Everything was ready to go. The pyrite was loaded, the tank pointing straight ahead, and the iron construct was staring back at him from courtyard.
"Rayne," the mage called. "Perhaps you'd like me to pilot the tank. I can escape the blast zone much quicker than you could. It may be safer this way."
"The red haired one makes a good argument," Ademski added. "Not to insult your own strength either my friend."
"Thanks Cayden but I've got this," Rayne boldly replied.
There was a growing look of discomfort amongst the Templar Knights. Though things may have slowly returned to normal between Marcus and himself, everyone else appeared to be walking on eggshells around him. The paladin needed to ease everyone's worries while simultaneously pointing out the blunt and obvious facts.
"Besides, is something should go wrong during transit, only an engineer would be able to solve the problem in time. Findle's not a soldier and I'm sure the last thing Weasel would want is another impromptu dance with this howling monster."
"Got that right," the gnome scoffed while pointing a direct finger at the warrior. "I'm still planning on haunting you. Don't you forget it!"
That small bit of humor seemed to finally relax the ongoing anxiety amongst his companions. Their laughter set his mind at ease for what he was about to do required the utmost concentration. One little slip up could mean the difference between leaving here on his feet or in a casket.
Rayne took a seat next to the turret. His right hand hovered carefully over the ignition switch while his left retrieved and carried his shield out in front. There was no telling how big of an impact the explosives were going to make but at this point, any little bit of extra protection would help.
The paladin paid one final glance to his companions. His bright smile should reassure them that they had nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, his eyes couldn't help but linger upon the night elf's longer than anyone else. She looked upon him with great trepidation. Her heart was crying out to him but the words never left her lips. She quickly averted her gaze and stared down onto the ground. The same sullen frown was still protruding through her glorious locks of amethyst hair.
Rayne had never seen such a disheartening look on her face before but he couldn't respond. Maybe she knew that as well. That was why she couldn't stare at him any longer. If she continued, perhaps he would reconsider taking on this mission himself even though they both knew what must be done.
"Alright," the paladin stated while taking a deep breath. "Here we –"
He flipped the switch in mid-statement and couldn't find the breath to finish. Air quickly shot down his throat. The tank blasted into full speed and dashed down the pathway. Something had definitely gone awry. Rayne knew the tank was fast from firsthand experience but this was racing faster than even his chopper could muster with two turbo-boosters. The programming core must have also controlled its speed. That's why it fought so effectively in such a limited fighting area.
Wind violently scraped against the paladin's face. The goggles were the only thing protecting him now. They howled at him with warning after warning as the construct multiplied in size with each passing breath.
The tank blitzed into the courtyard. Only a couple hundred yards separated Rayne from the iron behemoth staring down upon him.
"New toys? For me? I promise I won't break them this time!"
This one talked too. The paladin should have known. However, its voice was squeaky and innocent. It reminded him of a child. Rayne's thoughts drifted to those of the orphans back in Ashenvale. He wouldn't be sticking his neck out here for just anyone. He was doing it for them and the thousands of others who would leave behind more children should this Old God have its way.
Rayne lingered on memories of those kids for far too long. He was way too close now. The construct kneeled and opened its palms as if to catch the speeding tank like a softly tossed ball. Time had escaped him. It was now or never.
The paladin leapt backwards into the air. He planted the shield forward and tucked his knees into his chest. The tank roared underneath his traveling body and slammed into the awaiting grip of the construct. It looked so eager to take the vehicle in its grasp like a child with a brand new toy. It even made a point to verbalize it.
"I'm ready to –"
Rayne crushed the trigged between his thumb and middle finger. A chaotic wave of air erupted from the site of the blast. The blinding blue light caused his goggles to go haywire and cease functioning altogether. Fierce chunks of shrapnel exploded like a shotgun. They crushed against the still airborne paladin. Searing pieces of stinging metal tested the durability of his plate armor.
The detonation created blew a wave of violent force in all directions. It slammed into Rayne's body launching him like a missile into the pathway. He cried out in agony as the searing heat from the residual blast singed his flesh and armor. The impact was so incredible he thought he'd be shot all the way back to Dalaran from here.
Air ripped from his lungs as the paladin collided on the ground with an unforgiving force. His body rocketed down the hall, skidding just past the two openings on the east and west before grinding to a thankful halt moments later.
The world was a chaotic blur. His goggles rebooted and painted a picture of the devastation ahead. Before the darkness creeping in from the corners of his eyes could succumb him, Rayne caught a glimpse of smoking crater where the construct once stood. He gladly accepted the warm embrace of unconsciousness knowing the plan was a success. The last thing his mind processed before slipping into the sea of black was the droning of a charging army all shouting his name.
End of Act I