The Prison of Yogg-Saron
Ulduar
Splatters of malicious blood coated the outside walls. The Templar Knights struck back hard against the Old God's limbs. For every two that had defeated, only one returned to replace it. Yogg-Saron's power appeared to be weakening. It could no longer keep up with the dreaded pace of its attackers. The battle was shifting in their favor.
The val'kyr continued her relentless assault upon Narula. She pelted the night elf with a constant barrage of wicked shadow magic. Tatters of her leather armor ripped from her body. No matter how hard she tried, Sara could not bring her down to her knees. She remained firm in her stance. Narula would not succumb to the Old God's madness any longer.
The night elf's body tensed. Her strength was depleting. Keeping up this strenuous effort taxed both her mind and muscles. However, she continued to press on without any regard for her well-being. The mystical energy of nature's devastating wrath shined brightly overhead. Yogg-Saron's era of menace would soon come to an end. Narula pushed through the pain with that thought in mind. Her eyes locked onto the Old God's revolting figure and slowly expanded.
"The barrier!" Called the night elf. "It's -!"
She couldn't force any more words out of her strained lungs. The Templar Knights turned their gaze towards the center of the room. A mist of arcane energy floated above the Old God's frightening maw. The dome of magic dissipated before their very eyes. Yogg-Saron's magical shield had fallen. Its flesh was vulnerable. Their time to strike had finally come.
"Look upon the true face of death and know that your end comes soon!"
The Old God's declaration did not sway their resolve. A gleaming look of hope had befallen the Templar Knights. Words could not immediate express their delight but soon, a few found their way into their throats.
"Holy shit!" Cheered the warrior. "Is it down?!"
A small silver dagger dug into its thick purple gums. The disgusting saronite colored blood dripped from its wound.
"Yep," grinned the gnome. "It's down."
"Then let's wreck this son of a bitch!"
Marcus let out a furious shout. The walls trembled against the astonishing might of his battle cry. He charged in full-steam ahead without fear or hesitation. The mace was carried tightly over his shoulder. Yogg-Saron just stood there with its malicious grin unintimidated by the tremendous force approaching it.
The atmosphere quaked. Marcus dove into the pool of saronite drove the mace square into the largest fang of the Old God. The enamel cracked against its awesome strength. Its root shattered. The sharpened tooth was launched inward into the void and fell upon the pool of saronite brewing within.
The warrior grinned with absolutely glee. His attacks continued on the other fangs hanging from its jaw and protruding from the vile liquid he was now knee deep it.
Light shot out from the corner of his eye. Ademski stood beside him, splashing up gouts of teal fluid and driving his massive holy-infused blade across the top of its lips spilling a row of teeth into the liquid saronite below and draining more of the Old Gold's blood from the gaping wounds.
Weasel leap over his companions. He procured a pair of saronite bombs from the bag strapped to his back. Knowing know this metal was actually created by this monster made for a fitting end to its reign of terror. The gnome stuffed the bombs into the smaller maws atop its fleshy shell. He snapped his fingers laced with flint and steel on the tips and ignited the explosives. Weasel kicked off its head and flipped forward. Fangs rained from the sky as the bombs went off it a furious cloud of chaotic fury.
Tiny patches of its cerulean skin flecked off its revolting hide. Saelena kept up a constant barrage of fire on the largest patches of Yogg-Saron's flesh. She was using every round of ammunition in her possession to penetrate the thick mass. If the Old God was hiding some sort of sick brain underneath this ugly form, the silent draenei was determined to find it and put a bullet through it.
The priest stood over her brother's unconscious body. Rage filled her eyes. She fought back against the monster who caused her such horrific pain in the only way she knew how. The Knights became wrapped in the protective essence of the light. They were almost up to their waist in liquid saronite but Zariyana ensured that not a spec of Yogg-Saron's sundered blood marred their flesh. She may carry the strength or agility of her companions but at the very least, she would defend them with everything she had.
Cracks of vicious lightning bolts smashed into the surrounding limbs. Blocks of ice crushed the others that would dare attempt to strike at the Knights directly battling the Old God. The Keeper's aid was a blessing upon them. Thorim and Hodir kept the pressure up as Mimiron worked his techno-magic. Freya's soothing aura kept them full of stamina while revitalizing their spirits.
The Templar Knights were unyielding in their assault. Their combined efforts had risen through the darkness. The Old God's intimidating aura was weakening. Tentacles had lost their wily snap. The dozens of mouths along its slimy skin no longer carried the same feriocity. Though its maws had taken incredible damage, Yogg-Saron continued to taunt them.
"The end of days is finally upon you and ALL who inhabit this miserable little seedling."
Its ominous words fell upon deaf ears. The Knights continued to break its teeth and cut through its flesh without hindrance. Their bodies would not quit. The Old God's defeat was in their grasp. They had become blind to any other outcome. Through its shattered jaw and severed gums, Yogg-Saron gargled in indescribable agony.
"Uulwi ifis halahs gag erh'ongg w'ssh."
The moment had finally appeared. Narula's silver eyes twinkled. She threw her hands downward commanding the massive shimmering ball of collective stars downward onto the monster's hulking shell.
"Incoming!"
The night elf was unsure who shouted the warning. She had fallen to her knees, roaring with all her might as the descending energy crashed upon the Old God. Bright lights exploded upon detonation. The wrath of all that is good and living cascaded into the atmosphere. Its blinding flash forced the Knights to slam their eyes shut. No one could bear witness to the brilliant display of unrivaled power. It overtook to room and covered the area in a pure white radiance.
A calming silence emerged in the wake of the blast. The Templar Knights regained their bearings and slowly opened their eyes. The decayed husk of Yogg-Saron stood before them. Its once alarming presence had been reduced to charred mass of rotting flesh. The intense heat given off by the explosive spell hardened the pool of saronite surrounding it. Broken fangs littered the area. Ashes of the Old God's former appendages sat on the cold tiled floor.
"Binding matrix stabilization complete!" The mechagnome cheered. "Beginning cell rooting optimization."
The astral chains bound to the side of the room started to crank. They locked onto the unmoving remains of Yogg-Saron. Clank after clank, the chains tightened and hung taunt on the walls. A dome of mystifying blue energy arose in the center of the room blocking the corpse from further view.
"Is it," the gnome winced. "Is it over?"
The warrior fell on his backside. He planted the mace between his legs and rested his tired frame upon it.
"Yea Weasel," he smiled. "It's over."
The Templar Knights shared a collective breath of relief. This nightmare was truly over. The Old God's reign had ended. Its lingering aura of madness went silent. There was nothing left to fear. The prison had been returned to its cage. However, the final battle still did not feel like a total victory.
"Samuel!"
Zariyana collapsed upon her brother. She lifted him up and slid his head under her thighs. The wound on his head had been healed but he hadn't moved since the blow had been struck. His breathing was slow but steady. The glasses upon his face had several cracks on each lens but otherwise, the male Legend twin appeared fine.
"If you're trying to get revenge for earlier," she stammered. "Please, don't do this to me."
The priest started to break down. Her words carried thick tones of sorrow.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. Just please wake up."
Stammering footsteps approached the twins. Cayden pushed himself towards them with a significant lack of strength or speed in his movements. His neck was marred in a large red gash. The tentacles nearly suffocated the mage but thanks to the aid of his companions, he was able to persevere. Now he wanted to extend that same courtesy.
Cayden knelt before them. He slowly reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes rose and looked upon the mage briefly. In their short time spent together, Cayden had never seen her looking so sad and weak.
The mage slapped his hands together over Samuel's peaceful face. A mist of cool air filled between his palms. He slowly pulled them apart revealing a small column of flowing water. Cayden looked over towards the sullen priest and smiled. He released the conjured liquid from his grip. The cool substance splashed over the male Legend twin.
Samuel immediately rose to a sitting position. Bouts of coughs exited his tired lungs. His eyes opened revealing the anxious gold irises within.
"Samuel!"
Zariyana flung her arms around her brother's shoulders and squeezed him tightly. Her expression filled with joy as did her heart and mind. For someone who carries herself as calm and in control, it was a nice change of pace to see her guard lowered and shell cracked.
"I –," the priest stammered finding his bearings scattered within his rumbling mind. "What happened? Why am I all wet?"
"It's okay," she squeezed with a small but heartfelt smile. "It's all over now."
Zariyana slowly broke off her tender embrace and looked back upon her brother with warmth and adoration.
"We won."
Samuel released an exhausting sigh. A tiny but similar smile formed on his lips. He reached over and pulled his sister back into his arms and gave her a soft squeeze. Zariyana had never seen him so lively. Even since they were kids he was always to most level-headed and collected in the family. Watching him express such genuine emotions nearly made her hardened heart melt.
The mage rested his back against the column. He was fatigued beyond all recognition. After that near death experience, the only thing he wanted to do now was rest his head on a soft bed and curl up with a good book in his arms.
"Thank you Cayden."
"No problem," he replied before a dejected look of shock fell over his face. "Wait! What did you call me?"
Zariyana paid him a small glance. The smile still remained on her lips.
"You did well today," she replied. "For that, you deserve a bit of recognition."
For some reason, her words resonated highly within the mage's mind. Despite him begging for the Legend twins to stop calling him by their insipid nicknames, this was a brief but welcomed token of gratitude.
The Keepers descended from their platforms. Each of them surveyed the scarred battlefield. The Old God had put up a heavy resistance but inevitably could not withstand the overpowering might of the Titanic Watchers and their mortal allies. They may have been victorious but the lingering effects of Yogg-Saron's corruption throughout the years still remain. It would take some time before all of the wounds will heal. At the very least, they stopped the infection from spreading.
"Are the bindings firmly in place Mimiron?" Asked Thorim.
The mechagnome nodded.
"Calculations are showing all astral bindings are functioning at maximum capacity," he answered. "However, there is significant damage to the room and other areas where his corruption still remains. We'll have to repair the ground in this room and the next, remove the hardened saronite, and fix the glass enclosures. It will take some time but I'll put my army clockwork mechanics on it at once."
"That is excellent news," Freya smiled. "I am relieved to know that we may finally be able to return to our duties in peace."
"Aye," nodded Hodir. "Peace is good."
"Then we can finally be at ease," Thorim added.
"Well," commented Freya. "Perhaps not all of us."
The Templar Knights slowly gathered together. They examined one another checking for any lingering wounds without saying a word. It was all on their minds. No one wanted to be the first to say it. Even Ademski, the brashest and boldest of them all remained silent. He clutched onto the waist of his beloved wife and remained thankful that he was able to spend another moment with her in his arms. Not everyone could be so lucky.
Narula continued to sit on her knees. She was hunched over. Strands of purple hair covered her face and masked her expression. The night elf didn't want anyone to see her like this. They may have defeated the Old God but the cost was far too great. This was supposed to be a time of joy and celebration. Even her incredible druidic powers could not mend the pain of a broken heart.
Raymond…
She had never felt more powerless in all of her life. Narula had trained for years, sacrificed desires, and worked hard just to be able to stand with him. To lose him in such a way was beyond a tragedy. She had failed him and no matter how many times she cried out, he would never be able to listen to her apology.
"Uh oh," Mimiron stuttered. "I'm getting a funny reading here."
"What is it?!" Thorim snapped.
"A temporal anomaly!" He shouted back. "It's emanating from the cage itself!"
The Knights looked on with trepidation. They were in no condition to resume battle with the Old God if it was shattering its bindings. Its previous efforts may very well be the calm before the approaching storm. If that is the case, then not even the combined might of all of Azeroth's armies and champions would not be able to stop this madness.
An array of lights tore through the air. They formed into a line that split vertically near the center of the room. It slowly opened revealing a dark vortex. A single plate greave stepped forward. The gleaming silver plates shined brightly in this otherwise drab atmosphere. The second came out slower than the first.
The air in their collective lungs had vanished. The Knights looked on with utter shock as their leader came into view. His armor was battered and stained with blood. Long blonde locks of hair hung in a messy array. Though he appeared to have seen better days, at the very least, he was alive.
"Rayne!"
Narula's head snapped up. She locked her silver eyes upon the paladin's frame. Her heart started to calm down but it was only for a brief and fruitless moment. In his arms, Rayne graciously carried the body of an unconscious elf. Her feet and hands dangled lifelessly in his gentle grip. Atop her chest lay a bow and an ornate greatsword. A grim expression fell before his face.
The room was silent. Not a single Knight knew what to say at this moment. They thought their leader had perished in the maw of the Old God. Seeing him standing before them was a sight to instantly celebrate. However, the look upon his brow told him to do anything but.
"Freya," Rayne softly spoke. "May I ask you for one last favor?"
The Keeper acknowledged the paladin with a nod.
"What may I help you with young one?"
The paladin took a deep breath. He couldn't even look at the Titanic Watcher when requesting such great assistance. His eyes never left the young elf's delicate face.
"This girl," began Rayne. "She had fallen under Yogg-Saron's corruption as well. I am unsure if it still lingers within her."
His eyes finally lifted and looked upon the Keeper.
"Will you watch over her until she awakes?" The paladin boldly asked. "For me?"
Freya respected the wishes of the young mortal. After all of the effort they had given on this day, he deserved a much better reward. If this was all he desired than the Keeper was right about him all along and wished him the best with whatever journey he may take next.
"I will do as you ask," she smiled back. "It will be my duty to ensure the Old God's voice has been silenced from her mind once and for all."
Rayne nodded as the weight lifted from his shoulders.
"Thank you."
The paladin knelt forward. He lowered the young elf before the Titanic watcher's feet. Rayne stood up and took a step back. He watched her innocent expression intently. This reminded him of the first time they had met. Things would have been so much different if their paths had never crossed. However, despite all hardships and heartache, Rayne wouldn't have it any other way. He came into this fortress a ragged mess of his former self. He would leave this historic place prouder, stronger, and with his head held high.
It was eerily quiet in the room. No one really knew what to say after that. Those who were present at Wintergrasp probably recognized Lorelei from the start and had a lot of questions for the paladin. He would be more than happy to answer them all in due time. For now, they had to take care of a little business.
Rayne walked over towards the kneeling night elf. She looked upon him with the same troubled expression as she had much earlier in the day. The disbelief in her eyes spoke volumes. Narula must be swimming in a sea of uncertainty, fear, and perhaps even a little elation. The paladin knelt down and graciously extended his hands towards her. A familiar and welcomed smile that only he could show lifted upon his lips.
"Let's go home."