Blackrock Mountain

The Burning Steppes

The world was dark. All of his senses ceased to function. Everything had vanished in an instant. The gentle ringing in his ears slowly dissipated. In its place, there were a serious of sharp sounds in the distance. Metal clanged together with furious passion. The smell of burnt rock filled his nostrils. As each second passed the sounds grew louder and closer towards him.

Rayne opened his eyes slowly. The foggy haze of a reddened battlefield appeared before him. He was lying on his side on top of a mound of hardened grey dirt. Numbness tickled his muscles. The paladin attempted to move but he was overwhelmed with a bout of never-ending grogginess. His body reeled as he pushed himself up to his knees. The blurry image soon became clear.

The sky was dark orange. Blackened mountains loomed in the distance all around them. The ground was cracked and unstable. Rayne slowly stood up. His mind frantically tried to process his surroundings. He shifted his gaze towards the colossal black mountain that stood before him. Lines of molten lava dripped from peaks and crevices. The pooled into a massive moat surrounding its base. A long iron bridge arched over the bubbling red liquid and led to a large open gate adorned with ancient carvings.

A thundering smash drew the paladin's attention away from the ominous structure. He turned and fixed his gaze upon a large contingent force draped in black armor. Their vivid green skin was coated with muscles and equally impressive scars. Crimson banners hung high into the air. It was adorned with a deep black symbol signaling their affiliation. They drew their blades, axes, and mauls and swarmed over the oncoming squad of soldiers.

The opposing army was vastly different. Their silver armor radiated a glorious and commanding aura. Deep blue trim lined every plate. The all bore tabards with an ornate 'L' in in red and gold. Though they were smaller in stature and mass, these soldiers pressed on as if they were twice their size.

Galloping footsteps cut through the pack. Their leader charged forward on horseback. He was older than any of the others he commanded. White tufts of thick hair hung off his ears and down through his chin though only a scant few locks stood on the top of his head. His armor was by far the most radiant and impressive. Gleaming plates of mithril were lined with thick gold trim. A golden lion was carved upon his shield and spaulder. A large sword was slung upon his back. It appeared to have been forged by the finest smiths in Azeroth. The gallantly crafted golden hilt carried the hefty silver blade that was well over four feet in length. It was the greatest treasure in all the land.

The leader seized the weapon and shield as he leapt off his steed. He stood amongst his brothers in arms and began slaughtering the advancing army by the dozens. His blade dug into their flesh and severed their toughened hides in the blink of an eye. This man brought with him a chivalrous presence that inspired those all around him.

The opposing force did not let up on their assault. Their weapons struck the leader high and low. Despite receiving countless strikes upon his armored body, the leader did not falter. He pressed on, taking down any foe that stood in his way. The soldiers followed his charge and struck back at the green-skinned menaces with the same fervor and dedication as their noble leader.

"Move aside!" Bellowed a monstrous creature from within the ranks of the enemy.

Two soldiers, one from each side, hit the dirt hard as this new challenger stepped forward. He was much more imposing than any of the troops he commanded. The armor bound with chains to his muscular frame was a stark contrast to the leader of the opposition. It was black trimmed with crimson and gold stripes along the edges. His spaudlers carried a pair of threatening spikes that hung almost over the creature's head. Long trails of black hair hung from the back of his neck, down his shoulders and over his chest tied in red and gold braided cloth.

The weapon carried in his thick grip was by far the most drawing feature. It appeared to be made up of dark grey stone with metal trim and a trio of gold buttons along each face. In the center, a fierce depiction of wolf was carved into both sides of the mallet's face. This distinctive weapon was well known throughout their history. Not only has someone like Rayne heard of its mythical lore, he's actually seen that weapon being held by the leader of the opposing faction.

Doomhammer…!

It instantly became clear. This time, this place was all a moment in history. He had been transported to the past somehow. The paladin was now standing amidst the final confrontation of the Second War. Orgrim Doomhammer originally wielded the weapon named after his family. He was a fierce warrior best known for leading the brutal charge against the forces of the Alliance of Loredaron. This epic battle was the turning point of the war. It would forever change the history of their world. That meant his opponent could be none other than the man of legend himself.

Anduin Lothar?!

The two warriors clashed surrounded by soldiers fiercely vying for domination of the other. The Lion of Azeroth, as he was known throughout history, showed no trepidation in his strikes. He swung the hefty blade with such strength and finesse it appeared to be an extension of himself entirely. Seeing him in action was a sight only few got to witness but everyone in the Eastern Kingdoms would talk about for years to come.

Lothar traded blows with Orgrim. The Doomhammer smashed against the mighty blade wielded by the Supreme Commander of the Alliance. Though he appeared to be much older than his adversary, Lothar carried himself as if he were a man half his age. They continued to battle amidst their brethren and enemies alike determined to claim victory for their army.

Fear crept into the paladin's heart. If this were truly the same moment in history, a grave future awaited the Alliance Commander. Rayne blitzed forward. He ran towards the battlefield with immense haste. The flinging of arrows and axes in his direction did not sway his resolve.

The Doomhammer came tearing downwards. It struck the gleaming lion's head shield in Lothar's grip. The blow crumpled the shield, driving the Commander down to his knees. It sounded as if it would have crushed any other man's chest in. Fortunately, Anduin Lothar was no ordinary man and he was already ready a pressed for a counterattacked.

The Commander's blade swung upwards. It slashed against the chest of the orc warlord tearing through the armor and trailing a sweeping line of blood in its wake. It wasn't enough to kill him but it certainly made Lothar's strength known. This was a fight neither intended to lose.

Doomhammer reeled from the blow. He took several steps back and admired the fresh wound he had just received. The orc warlord ripped his breastplate off and let the hunks of spiked metal plates slump to the ground. Doomhammer may have been more vulnerable to damage but without that heavy armor across his chest, he was now much quicker and agile. This did not bode well for Lothar as he was already showing signs of injury and fatigue.

Rayne raced across the battlefield. His feet slammed into the ash-colored dirt and kicked off smoky trails as he sped towards the duel. The rampant beats of his heart were not due to any exhaustion but the sheer terror enveloping his emotions. The history books were not kind to the details. He knew exactly how this was going to play out and was desperate to stop history from repeating itself once more. Sadly, no matter how fast the paladin ran, he could not seem to reach where he desperately needed to be.

Orgrim raised his weapon on high with both hands clutching its hilt. The Commander responded by delivering a raised strike sweeping from his knees upwards. Their weapons clashed. The cracking of metal echoed into the terrible orange sky.

Rayne's eyes shot open. The beloved sword of the Alliance Commander hand been shattered down to a few scant inches above its hilt. Intense dread fell over the paladin as the Doomhammer carried its swing through the broken blade and struck Lothar's helm. Blood spewed from his eyes and mouth. The Lion of Azeroth dropped to his knees before falling flat upon his face. His body quivered as the life slowly drained from it.

"I have conquered!" The orc heartily cried. "And so shall all our foes die until your world belongs to us!"

"NO!" Shouted Rayne.

The paladin tore through the battlefield. He moved through friend and foe alike until finally reaching Lothar's beaten corpse. Rayne dropped to his knees before him. The Commander was still warm to the touch but fading fast. Something was missing. The hilt of his grand sword was no longer in his hands. Someone had taken it and challenged Orgrim once more.

The battle raged on all around them. It was inconsequential to him at this point. Rayne had the chance to change history and spare this world from losing its greatest hero. The paladin cringed as he watched the Lion of Azeroth's bloody corpse staring back at him. A pool of crimson liquid spewed underneath Lothar's battered head. This sacrifice may have been documented as the turning point to rally the Alliance to victory but the cost was far too great.

Rayne's gauntlets carefully swept underneath the Commander's armor. The paladin turned the lifeless body and faced him upright. Rayne stared back at him. Tears welled in his eyes as he slowly removed the crushed helm from Lothar's skull. A bolt of lightning cracked into Rayne's conscious. The face of Anduin Lothar was not staring back at him. Dwelling beneath the broken bones and bloody skin was an all too familiar image he never expected to find.

Pain ripped into the paladin's shoulder. An arrow bounced off his plate and gashed the exposed skin atop his trapezius. Rayne rolled backwards as another volley of arrows descended downwards upon his position. He raised his shield to block the rain of metal blades from further damaging his body. They pegged off his barrier and harmlessly spilled to the ground.

The paladin lowered his shield slowly. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was the sky orange or dirt grey. He was surrounded in a rocky room that appeared to be crudely carved out of saronite and other bits of Titan architecture. The smell was thick and carried the foul stench of the Old God's blood.

Memories of this place had returned. That terrifying image was only a mere illusion. Rayne and his companions had ventured into the prison and confronted Yogg-Saron directly. In the ensuing battle, the paladin was swallowed by the forceful maw of the Old God. He thought he was done for. He believed death was waiting for him underneath those vicious fangs. Somehow, he ended up in this place which made absolutely no sense.

A gentle nudge against his leg forced Rayne to look away from this dreaded place. Emerald sulked nearby. He desperately called out to the paladin and attempted to press his gaze elsewhere. How the tiger survived the journey relatively unscathed was still a mystery. The last time Emerald was teleported nearly killed him. Now he appeared to be more healthy and vigorous than ever. Something was definitely not right but at the behest of the beast, Rayne carefully took a gander to where he asked.

Thick blue clouds of light drew his attention to the north. A tall opening nearly fifteen feet in width split the saronite rocks apart. It appeared to be the only exit out of this room. It was hard to see what lied beyond but the fact remains that this was the way out and no matter what horrors awaited him, the paladin had to press on. It wasn't until he lowered his eyes and found why Emerald was so agitated that revealed a new foreboding and dangerous threat.

"Lorelei…?!"

The air escaped from his lungs. His heart started pattering beneath his chest. The young elf whom he shared a scarred past with had appeared before him. He could never forget that polished leather armor linked with metal rings. Her straight blonde locks had fallen over her face. The bow slipped from her hands and fell onto the ground with a gentle tumble.

"Rayne…?"

The sheer innocence in her voice pierced the paladin's heart. He slowly crept forward with Emerald timidly matching his pace. Her tone was soft and gentle. Given the last few words she offered him, it was certainly unexpected. Maybe she had gotten lost during her time of grief and accidentally found her way in here. Perhaps this was merely a trap set up by the Old God who had been watching their every move since they got here. It was a solid plan. As soon as he reached her, Yogg-Saron would unleash a wave of horrific monsters to tear them both a part during his moment of weakness.

Rayne passed the halfway mark of this long room. His breathing was short and chaotic. It was hard trying to rationalize exactly what was going on. He attempted to take another step but was halted by the tugging of his cloak. The tiger refused to move and ensure the paladin wouldn't either. He would have thought Emerald would be the first to leap into his master's arms. If something was scaring him this badly, then they both needed to tread lightly.

"Is that really you Rayne?"

The paladin looked upon Lorelei's visage once more. Her voice may have been familiar but her figure was anything but. She was much more muscular than he remembered. Veins popped above her skin and glowed with an ominous teal light. A misty cloud of blue energy permeated near her sulking face. Strapped to her waist was a familiar looking weapon. The broadsword that her brother carried into battle was now in her possession. It may be the only piece of him she has left.

"Lorelei!" Called Rayne. "Are you alright? What happened? What's going on?!"

The frantic pile of questions being spat out fell upon deaf ears. It didn't appear as if she did not want to listen but rather, she couldn't.

"Please," the young elf begged. "Tell me that you're really here."

An echo quaked his heart. She was so terribly frightened and alone. The nightmares of this fortress must have terrorized her fragile mind. Rayne had to be here for her now in her greatest time of need. She may have been unwilling to confront him with a level mind during their last encounter. This was his chance to finally remedy that and get the closure they both so truly deserved.

"Yes Lorelei," the paladin stoically answered. "I'm here."

The young elf's head perked up. Her hair slowly parted revealing a pair of glowing teal eyes. A smirk slowly found its way to her lips.

"Finally…"

The young elf exploded forward. She flew through the air with one incredible dash carrying the blade over her shoulder. Rayne's instincts took over. He lifted the shield up and barely caught the powerful swing heading for his neck. The blow hit the paladin like a fallen meteor. It carried the strength and weight held only by the Titanic Watchers. Rayne was violently forced off his feet and flung backwards. He traveled with a velocity only rockets could match before crashing into the opposing wall.

An agonizing gasp pushed through the paladin's throat. His body cracked the saronite rock face and embedded itself into its stony structure ten feet above the ground. The nerves in his back pleaded in utter anguish. His mind could barely process what had just happened.

Rayne slowly slipped forward and crashed upon his hands and knees. Specs of broken saronite debris bounced off his armor. The red blade slipped from his grip and fell before him just a few feet away. The strength in his muscles were instantly depleted. Daggers drilled into his left side. A few of his ribs must have been cracked during the impact. Given how much pain the paladin was in, they were probably a little closer to shattered.

Something was definitely awry. This was not the young innocent elf he had once knew. Even if she trained for a hundred years, no mortal could wield such a terrifying power. Jean may have once been known as the Lightning Blade but his sister far surpassed his speed and strength and the paladin desperately desired to find the reason why.

"Lorelei…" Wheezed Rayne. "What happened to you?"

The room was silent except for the sound of the paladin's struggled breaths. It soon filled with a faint giggling sound. The echoing laughter grew into a maddening bout of sheer insanity.

"What happened to me?!" She taunted. "You ask that now as you are on your knees clutching to what little life you have left?!"

Lorelei continued to laugh. She clutched her skull with a free hand and pushed it upwards revealing a wide and freighting grin.

"You have no idea how I've longed to see you like this Rayne Templar," she grinned. "I cannot believe I finally have you within my grasp!"

A pair of tears fell from each of her eyes. They did not carry any sorrow or grief. These were the tears of utter joy.

"My revenge is finally here," she forebodingly wept. "I'll soon be rid of this nightmare once and for all."

Nightmare…?

The answer immediately came into light. Lorelei's sudden burst of strength, the teal glow, and her maddening presence revealed the truth. The young elf had succumbed to the corruption of Yogg-Saron. Its black blood flowed within her veins now. She was completely enamored with thoughts of vengeance and death. The Old God had played its ultimate hand. It turned the one person the paladin wished to save against him.

"Lorelei…"

The paladin's words groaned. He tried to push himself to his feet but was met with great resistance.

"This isn't you," he boldly stated. "Don't let –"

Emerald fled from his side and ran towards his master. After all this time apart, they would finally be reunited. His paws scraped the saronite laden surface with unbelievable haste. The tiger closed the distance in the blink of an eye. He jumped forward hoping to find his master's loving embrace waiting for him.

"Wait!" Rayne cried. "Don't –"

The tiger's skull caught the devastating knuckles of the young elf. She backhanded the beast straight into the wall beside her. The rocks cracked upon catching his green hide. He let out a horrifying yelp. Emerald collapsed in a heap. His breathing was slow and erratic.

"Emerald!"

The paladin lifted himself to his feet. He reached for his sword and returned it to his tight grip. Light swelled within his frame. It numbed the recent wounds torturing his body and allowed him to move somewhat normally. Rayne still clutched at his ribs. Thankfully, it was on the side he carried his shield. That would make it much easier to defend against attacks which were surely coming.

"Stop Lorelei!" Ordered the paladin. "Look at what you're doing! This is not you!"

The young elf snapped her eyes and paid him a grimacing look.

"Not me?!" She barked. "NOT ME?!"

Lorelei reached down and grasped a tuft of fur upon the tiger's head. She lifted him from the ground with only one arm. He dangled in the air carrying a tormented expression upon his large face.

"What the hell do you know about me?!"

The broadsword rose slowly. Its edge tickled the fur on Emerald's neck.

"Are you trying to belittle me?!" She shouted. "Do you think I'd allow myself to be controlled by someone else again?!"

"LORELEI!" Rayne pleaded. "Don't do it -!"

The blade sliced cleanly through the tiger's throat. Geysers of blood flooded from the open would spilling upon its fur. The young elf didn't even flinch as splatters of her former companion's fluid splashed upon her face and armor.

"He was weak," she spat. "Like I once was."

She looked upon the paladin. Her blade pressed forward. Its tip was aimed right at his throat.

"No one is controlling me any longer Rayne Templar," she vilely stated. "I chose this path."

Lorelei tossed aside the severed head. The paladin looked on in utter horror. He clutched his blade and weapon tightly. Anger began pumping into his thoughts. She coldly murdered her beloved pet for no reason other than a display of strength. Emerald didn't deserve such a miserable ending.

The light churned through his soul. It eased his heart and mind rationalizing the terrible thoughts flowing within. If this was indeed Lorelei's own doing, than Rayne was responsible for her chosen path. Cleansing the corrupting of the Keepers was one thing. At least they tried to fight the darkness grasping at their conscious. The young elf willfully succumbed to it. She would not be as easily conquered as the others.

The paladin braced himself in a defensive stance. He would do what he was always taught. If prayers wouldn't be heard, the only thing left was to prepare himself for the ultimate inevitability. As long as her ears continued to work, Rayne promised to free her from the maddening clutches of the Old God and return her to the light.