Another month, another upload, and yet my same problem remains. Life is still interceding every time I try to get down to writing, which is making it a great struggle to keep up where I'd like to be. Hopefully some drastic measures can be taken, once my current life-related nonsense eases a touch. Nevertheless, we have a chapter for today! Enjoy! ~F
Chapter 169
Titan Keepers
Lucius knew that he had to put the perceived thought, which the Archmage Rhonin seemed cling to determinedly, to rest. None of the earthborn would join the Kirin Tor. Their magic was not of the arcane, and most of them had no connection with that magic anyway, they were warlocks primarily.
That was part of the reason for bringing the mages of the Balefire Clan to this city. He had a mad scheme to more or less force one of those ogres into the Mage's innermost circle, allowing the Dark Horde to have extremely loyal eyes inside the workings of the magical city. But for that to come to pass, the red haired wizard had to let down, as quickly and decisively as possible.
Draco was in complete agreement, and felt it most amusing what they had planned here, especially with how the elves felt so superior to their mages, and yet contributed so little to the Nexus War when it came down to it.
Now that the war with the Lich King was in high swing; however, Lucius knew that they needed to depart soon, and assist with the Dark Horde's battle plan for assaulting the Citadel.
Draco was being sent ahead, whether the Kirin Tor wanted it or not. Lucius had a suspicion that one of their side goals was to keep them here as long as possible, to see if they led the Dark Horde, which while factually true was not something that he wanted them to be completely privy to.
Thankfully, Narcissa and Aurora back in Stormwind were the perfect alibi for a sudden departure that was not related to events up north. With their supreme logistical movement from the Fel gateways, there was no way for anyone to know where exactly they went.
Nodding at his son, who was to slip away while Lucius distracted the Archmage, the young man vanished into an alley in the city, while the older wizard made his way to the Violet Citadel, alongside one of the higher ranked Ogre magi from among the Balefire.
"Archmage," he said, approaching as the wizard was exiting one of the inner chambers of the main building, "I hate to intrude upon your time, but I have some news."
"Not a problem at all, what do you need, Lord Malfoy?" Rhonin said, face cheery and hopeful, as though he was expecting to hear what he had longed for since Lucius and Draco had set foot in Dalaran.
"My wife, Narcissa, has summoned me back to Stormwind. Apparently, only I can take care of a matter that has arisen. I don't know if I or my son will be able to return before the end of the campaign against the Lich King." He said, momentarily relishing the crestfallen look on the man's face before he smoothed it out.
"I see, well if it cannot be helped that is most unfortunate." Rhonin replied, seeking a reason that could combat the compelling call of a wife, "It is a shame that you will miss the battle. What can the Kirin Tor do to aid you in hastily returning to Stormwind and back to us, perhaps we can still make the window for the assault to begin?"
"I doubt that it can be done," Lucius said with finality, "But the Ogre magi will remain with you, to represent the affairs of the Dark Horde, just as the Sunreavers do the Kalimdor Horde."
While the Archmage didn't seem to react to that news, the tension in his shoulders told Lucius all he needed to know. They had no candidates in mind other than Lucius himself, and if he departed and never returned, they would be forced to choose another. The host of Ogres would ensure that they had to be represented, especially if they set down roots for their people, which they had orders to do so.
"This is Wa'Rosh, known as the Redeemed among his people, and he will represent his people here." Lucius said, already turning to leave the Ogre here in the citadel and return to the front lines as Terrath.
"We are pleased to be here, assisting other users of the Arcane," the Ogre said, possessing a very refined style of speech for one of his kind. The second head was mostly silent, but its one eye brimmed with arcane power.
"I am sure that the others will be… pleased, to work with you and your kind for the betterment of the Kirin Tor…" Rhonin said, finally starting to break as he realized that Lucius had just defeated his game.
"I will take my leave." Lucius said, going for the kill, "If there is time, I will see about returning, but there is much to do, and my wife has been alone for most of the campaign."
Exiting, he heard the Ogre start to ask questions of the Archmage, regarding the logistics of their contribution to the battle northward, which pleased him. Force the Kirini Tor to focus on the threats they were already facing, rather than trying to prevent what they thought might be threats later on.
A shadowy gateway took him to the northern outpost that the Balefire Clan had claimed in Icecrown, and another whispered spell clothed him as Terrath, the third of the Order of the Black Harvest.
The orcs on guard nodded respectively, knowing him as the leader that held back the Kalimdor Horde at Thoradin's Wall, and granted him access to the stronghold without question.
Plenty of the clan chieftains attended, aside from those taking part with either the operating in the mountains, or overseeing the Crusader's games.
"What plans have been set in place already?" Terrath asked, sitting down at the grand table, where all the clans had listed their amassed forces and began a meager outline of how they were to approach the terrible fortress.
It was a rough plan, with a frontal ground assault, relying on the other factions and their massive flying vessels for air support; workable, but lacking in subtle details that only one of the heads of the Order of the Black Harvest would have been aware of.
Taking what he had before him as a groundwork, Lucius start to shift around the various clan markers, placing the Dragonmaw to air support over the ground charge between the Balefire, Dawn's Hammer, Blackrock, and Bleeding Hollow Clans. The Feltalon were to harass the parapets of the walls, making room for the Stormreaver warlocks to open portals and admit the troll tribes, as well as the Blightbringers onto the wals directly, where their range and special weapons would do the most damage to their enemies.
He would keep the goblins in the rear, operating siege engines and only moved forward when the way was clear, alongside the Shadowmoon, Bonechewer clans held in reserve, as well as the potential wild cards of the Felblood Elves and the Centaur Clan. They would have a purpose for the final push, when their forces started to lose momentum after the second or third walls of the Scourge, but Lucius hoped that they would not be needed.
"This battle we are preparing for will be the most grueling of all the Dark Horde has faced," he said to the assembled leaders, "The Scourge is a relentless force, lacking in moral to break or exhaustion to wear them out. The longer this battle takes, the more it will wear on us, and kill whatever momentum we make against them. We must strike hard and fast, and spur ourselves forward as quickly as we dare, to press all the way to the Citadel itself and have strength left to send forth our champions into the halls of the dead."
"Now we simply wait for the remainder of our forces to return from the Storm Peaks and the Argent encampment, then we can begin…" Lucius said, piercing the solemn silence that had heralded his statements about their situation. It was a dire place to be, but they had the best strategy they could make off hand, and the forces to make such a strategy happen.
With Nobu'tan at their head to spur the Dark Horde on, they had the will, the power, and the knowledge to see victory appear. It would only be up to these clans and tribes to close their hands over it and see their triumph realized.
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Bellatrix observed the small battle that was going on for the amusement of the Titan Keeper, Thorim. A large ice worm was battling with a small group of iron dwarves, paying no attention whatsoever when the necrolyte force of the Blightbringers assembled just outside the room.
"Commencing watcher Thorim status analysis," the strange, speaking machine said, before going silent for a few moments, "An external influence, under illusory guise of Thorim's deceased mate, Sif, has been detected."
"Mental interference from this presence dangerously close to triggering partial memory damage," the archivum continued to explain, even as Bellatrix formulated her own plan, "Tactical analysis suggest approaching the arena from the front and splitting secondary force through a side passage at the ground level. This will maximize odds of reaching Thorim's outlook before mental domination by external presence is complete."
"I have a better solution," Bellatrix stated, smirking as she signaled for her forces to attack the combatants and end the spectacle for the entire room of iron dwarves.
Their grunts dashed inside, smashing the iron dwarf handlers and slaughtering the beings that they had captured for their staged battle. "Interlopers!" Thorim yelled, outraged at the interruption. "You mortals who dare to interfere with my sport will pay…"
Apparently the mental deception had not fully taken effect yet, as the Keep paused, shaking his head and looking at them with confusion, "I… but you… what is this? Where am…"
"Thorim, my lord," the figured posing as the much smaller female interjected, but Bellatrix could see with eyes trained for the slightest deception that there was no care in the way that this Sif acted toward Thorim, "why else would these invaders have come into your sanctum but to slay you? They must be stopped!"
Lightning sparked off the massive mace that Thorim held, even as he commanded many of the iron dwarves from the surrounding stands to come down and fight the Dark Horde warriors. Bellatrix commanded her warriors to stand their ground and fight, and spread her wings. She was not going to allow this other foe to manipulate the Keeper they were trying to free to gain his sigil. Leaping into the air, she circled the battle once before diving at the false Sif.
The impersonator was forced to conjure a shield to protect herself, even as Thorim stamped his feet, causing a small thunderclap in his rage.
"Impertinent whelps!" he bellowed, "you dare challenge me atop my pedestal? I will crush you myself!"
Thorim leapt down from the balcony, away from the manipulative power of the false keeper, even as the still shielded Sif started channeling ice magic, "Impossible! Lord Thorim, I will bring your foes a frigid death!"
Even as the Blightbringers weathered the literal storm that Thorim brought against them, Bellatrix pressed the attack against the caster, trying to distract her enough to break the spell that she was trying to weave over the Keeper, and free him without having to actually fight the powerful titan creation.
The imposter seemed to feel safe behind her shield of magic, but Bellatrix had plenty of experience with anti-magic defenses like this, and more especially how to defeat it. As with most magical shields, there was a limit on how much punishment they could take, and eventually such a limit could be found with enough pressure.
Therefore, if her shield prevented spells from affecting her directly then Bellatrix would attack her indirectly.
Magic washed out at her command, the Valkyr form radiating power as Bella devastated the stone and metal roof, causing it to collapse over the shielded woman. While her shield may protect her from magic, the crushing weight of rubble would overwhelm and bury her, if not kill her outright.
She grunted in anger as the frost caster was force to move, leaping down to the arena alongside Thorim, but the damage had been done, even as the Keeper turned to see her for the first time, the spell over his mind was shattered.
"You!" he bellowed, unleashing a blast of power that immobilized the female form, "Fiend, you are not by beloved! Begone!"
Another thunderous blast, and the form was stripped from the hidden menace, and a writhing tentacle shriveled up and perished, before the Keeper turned his attention to the Dark Horde force assembled around him, still holding their weapons a the ready in case he turned on them again.
"Behold the hand behind all the evil that had befallen Ulduar, left my kingdom in ruins, corrupted my brother, and slain my wife." Thorim explained sadly, glowing at the decayed tendril of corruption.
"And now it falls to you, champions, to avenge us all. The task before you is great, but I will lend you my aid as I am able. You must prevail!"
"Come with us to the overlook," Bellatrix said, landing once more among her forces, "Our leaders will want to convene with you and the other Keepers for fighting Yogg-Saron…"
"I will accompany you…" Thorim said, "And I hope that my fellow Keepers will be there to also aid you mortals against the corruptor."
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Draco settled into his favorite char at his parent's home in Stormwind. As part of the pretense that he and his father had created to escape Dalaran, he was to stay at home for at time, in order to ensure that they were observed as in Stormwind at the same time that the assault of Icecrown began. Once that happened, he would leap to the front lines to lend his aid to Lord Nobu'tan in this final hour of the northern campaign, and hopefully end the threat of the undead to their world altogether.
Narcissa and Aurora were pleased for his return, as well as word that Lucius was well, as the others of both the Alliance and their own people that were participating in this fight.
At the same time, Draco was surprised to find that his little sister was already hard at work learning magic. Not their internal wizarding magic, mind, as her magical core wouldn't awaken fully until she was ten or eleven, but tutors from the park district and cathedral were coming to share small tokens of knowledge in both powers of the Light and the natural magfic of the druids.
"I can't believe that she is so gifted," Draco breathed again, watching as the Holy magic shone around his little sister, and she giggled at the warmth that the healing light unleashed in the room.
"Yes, the priests and druids were quite insistent that she start learning as soon as possible," Narcissa said, watching from the doorway as she split her attention between them and the animated implements in the kitchen. "Apparently, her bond with the magic will only grow stronger if exercised, and to be fair it took a great deal of convincing to make me see that it was good for her to start so soon."
"I only our own world was so gifted that we had these kinds of magic…" Draco said wistfully, "Then many things could have been avoided."
"There is little that can be accomplished by hoping for what if," Narcissa said wisely, but gently, "We need to look to what opportunities we have today and tomorrow, and let yesterday lay in peace after we learn all we can from it."
Draco smiled, relishing what opportunities he had to just be at home, with his mother and sister, even if it was just a smokescreen for where he needed to be. He would be seeking a long rest period after this campaign was over, to be able to truly enjoy these sorts of moments. "Someday soon you know, I'll need to find a home for myself," he said, glancing at Narcissa to see how his mother would react.
Without missing a beat, she replied, "I am prepared for this inevitability, and have several locations in mind as possible places for you to move out to, until you're fully established on your own feet."
Shaking his head, smile stuck in place, Draco sighed to himself. Leave it to a mother, who until recently had had a single child, to completely plan out her son's life, even to where he would go when he finally moved out of her home.
"You should go visit Anduin," Narcissa said, checking the time with a casual charm, "He is probably worried about his father right now, and could use a friendly face."
Draco saw the ploy for what it was, shooing him out of the house so that the line of conversation ended about him leaving home, but he allowed it to happen. There would be time enough for that unpleasant topic to arise again. Truthfully, he was stuck nearby regardless of what he desired, as his position as Anduin's tutor and advisor was still firmly in place, even if he was loosely able to come and go as needed by will of the King or other duties. Draco was certain that, unofficially, he was something of a diplomat between the Dark Horde and Stormwind. While he was not altogether opposed to the idea, there was a great amount of pressure that Draco experienced being so close to the leadership of the Alliance.
True, he was able to bypass the Keep guards at his leisure, some of them even nodding as he passed, old faces that had fought alongside him during the battles in Stormwind to fend off the Scourge assaults, but Draco still vividly remembered the Night Elf leader and her hatred of what they stood for as warlocks.
It was a precarious position to be in, under scrutiny from the likes of Whisperwind and the powerful advisor to Lady Proudmoore, but rather Draco be here, as a go between than for Nobu'tan himself to come and deal with these powers directly. The amount of potential chaos that could happen with one slip of temper sent shivers up Draco's spine, even as he arrived outside Anduin's room.
The prince was studying on the current goings-on in Northrend, reading reports from the Alliance generals and his father, and studying a large map of the continent, with toy figures spread out to symbolize the various forces and confrontations that had occurred.
"Hard at work, as usual, your majesty," Draco teased, snapping the boy out of his concentration.
"Draco!" he said happily, leaping to his feet and rushing up to the wizard, stopping short of throwing his arms around the older man in joy. Draco smirked, ruffling the Prince's hair as he entered, closing the door and studying the battle map that Anduin had been making. "You even have the movements of the Hordes here," he said, impressed.
"At least as far as what the Alliance is aware of," Anduin said, sheepishly proud of his work, "But I am still at a loss as to how they are all going to proceed…"
He indicated the stack of objects that represented Icecrown, "The Scourge fortress is so densely protected, even together all three factions would be hard pressed to break their walls and enter. I cannot imagine what sorts of tactics will be used to accomplish what seems to be the impossible."
Seeing the genuine care that the boy had for the outcome of this approaching battle, for more than just the safe return of his father, Draco came to a stark realization: there was more good he could do here than by hastening to the front.
"It may be something that most would oppose me doing," he started slowly, "but I have ways and means that we could watch the battle from the safety of the Keep, from this very room if you so wished it…"
The way Anduin's eye lit up at the prospect of watching the battle in real time was something Draco recalled seeing on a young Nobu'tan when the topic of new magic came around, so long ago in the halls of Hogwarts.
"I would very much wish this," Anduin said, quickly finding a place for Draco to sit at the nearby table, and summoning a servant to bring them food and drink.
"I doubt that the battle will take place for a few days yet," Draco said, gently trying to curb the enthusiasm of the boy, "but I could see about showing you a more clear idea of what they are facing, and the numbers that are assembled…"
Thinking quickly, Draco spied a small mirror on a bedside table in the corner, and summoned it with his wand. A handful of quick charms would sync the mirror to what he himself could see through an eye of Kil'rogg, and Draco handed the enchanted mirror to Anduin, "This will let you see what I can see," he explained, even as he started to intone the Fel magic that summoned the little eye of remote viewing.
The travel time from Stormwind to Northrend for the little orb was negligible, as he could fly as fast as his mind could tolerate the sight of flying ocean, before the icy continent drew near. To his ears, Draco could hear the awed gasp of Anduin as they sailed past Wyrmrest Temple, darting around the swarming dragons as they hurtled over the Wrathgate into Icecrown proper.
The massive flying machines of the Kalimdor Horde and Alliance circled the main valley, where numberless hosts of undead gathered, their clawed hands silently reaching up to try and snuff out the living so far above them.
Draco wanted to avoid skimming too much of the Dark Horde's defenses, for their own security, but he did a few cursory flyovers, in order for Anduin to get an idea of what num,bers they had amassed in the open. The Ogre mage Teg'Ramm looked up at the flying eye, but did not react as he recognized the magical signature of Draco, before the human warlock turned his attention to the Argent Crusade's assemblage, where it seemed somemanner of tournament was underway.
"What are they doing?" Anduin asked, and with effort Draco forced his own mouth to move while still maintaining the spell.
"They're filtering who among the champions of the three factions will attend to the main attack on the Lich King." He said quickly, letting the eye draw closer to the central stadium.
Teg'Ramm was there, the Ogre mage speaking with an Alliance Gnome, another warlock no doubt, even as many youth of the Dark Horde milled about, chattering excitedly and approaching various warriors of all three factions.
"I wish I could be there…" Anduin said wistfully, and Draco knew that it had to be painful for the boy to see other children near to his age being allowed places he was forbidden, all because he was a prince.
"You Father is protecting himself and you by keeping you here," Draco said, hoping that he was making sense. "If you were on the battlefield, all his attention would be on keeping you safe, even to the detriment of his own protection as the victory of his armies."
"I know," Anduin said, dejectedly, "But I want to show him that I can handle myself in these situations, and help him."
"There will be time enough for you to prove yourself," Draco said confidently, "You almost at the age where even Varian cannot deny your wish to be at his side in these situations. Continue the path you are walking, and he will have to acknowledge that you are an asset to have with him…"
"I hope so," Anduin said, settling down as Draco turned the eye's view onto the dreadful citadel itself, spotting something moving stealthily around the ridges.
"What is she doing here?" he asked aloud, diving the eye closer and spotting the Banshee Queen Sylvanas Windrunner, along with a small host of her undead, stalking their way toward the vile bastion of their mutual enemy.
"That's the leader of the Forsaken," Anduin said, understanding dawning on him, "What business has she getting that close to the citadel before the attack has begun?"
"I do not know," Draco said, "but we cannot allow her to just do as she wishes unobserved… we must find someone who can keep tabs on her."
"Aunt Jaina could do something, and she is nearby," Anduin said, and Draco smiled. She had been the first person he had considered as well.
"She won't be pleased to see the eye, but it's the fastest method of communication I have at the moment," he explained, quickly returning to the Argent Crusade's camp and scouring the area for the Sorceress of Theramore.
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Jaina hadn't been sure what to do with herself between the two tournaments at the Argent Crusader's encampment. So currently she was waiting in the Alliance pavilion, resting until they were summoned back by Tirion for the next contest, when a flash of Fel magic appeared before her.
Her kneejerk reaction would have been to snuff it out completely, and seek out the warlock responsible and discover the reason, when she recognized the blatant aura that was unique to Draco Malfoy.
But why would he try to contact her by this method. It would have to be some kind of emergency. Loath though she was to do it, she reached out her hand to touch the orb of Fel magic.
The fire was unpleasant, but not harmful, even as she was flooded with imagines that she did not recognize. The leader of the Forsaken, Sylvanas, was crossing a ridge far to the south, bypassing the Saronite walls of the Scourge forces and preparing to infiltrate the Citadel itself.
Rising in concern, Jaina started out of the pavilion immediately, thinking of where she was, and what on Azeroth she could be thinking.
From what she knew, the Forsaken especially hated the Scourge above all others, but at the same time they had withheld as much of their energy against facing them, waiting for the right moment. If they were acting now, perhaps they had learned of something that even Tirion and the Ardent Crusade did not know.
They had already slipped past the southern area where the Dark Horde was fortified, but Jaina could still open a small portal to where they were hiding, just outside one of the outer towers of the Citadel.
The Forsaken raised their weapons, but even they hesitated when they realized Jaina was among them.
"Lady Proudmoore," Sylvanas said coolly, seemingly unsurprised that she had appeared. "I knew that eventually our movements would be noticed, but out of all possibilities I suppose you are the best option."
"Sylvanas Windrunner," Jaina said, "What do you think you're doing? With the united assault days away is it really wise to try an operation at Icecrown…"
"Now is the best time to try," she countered, stepped closer and smirking down at Jaina, "With the Lich King's attention focused on the oncoming armies, we can at last exploit a critical weakness of his defenses, and get inside his fortress through the Forge of Souls."
"But to what end?" Jaina asked, starting to suspect that there was something further that the Banshee was withholding.
"Our true objective lies somewhere much farther inside," she admitted, "The Lich King has a private chamber called the Halls of Reflection, where we might search for information that might help us all defeat him permanently…"
"I'm coming with you, then," Jaina said, stepping past Sylvanas to observe the entrance in the side of the wall they were overlooking.
"I had expected nothing less, with your connection to Arthas in life…" Sylvanas said, and Jaina chose not to correct her. She was there to make sure that the Forsaken did not do anything foolish and ruins their chances at attacking the citadel properly and ending the threat to the rest of the world.
Not that the Banshee wasn't driving at something that was partially true. Jaina was unfortunately desperately curious as to whether any amount of Prince Arthas remained in the form of the Lich King, and if there was, whether she could help rescue him from the curse that he had inflicted upon himself in his own mad desperation to protect his people.
Sylvanas and the rest might only see the monster that Arthas had become, but for Jaina she could not help but feel guilt and worry over his downfall, and whether she could have changed his path, and protect Arthas from that terrible decision.
In all honesty, she was unsure of she had the strength to raise her magic against him if it came to it. She had dearly loved Arthas, and still loved his memory. If there was a shred of humanity left, could she allow herself to destroy it, even to save all of Azeroth?
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Nobu'tan knew that he and his people had takent the longest of the passages, having quickly scouted them all with eyes while the others assembled their forces. The stonework of the underground facility fell away to a metallic sheen as they traveled, amd eventually assembled upon a mechanical conveyance that sped them off toward one of the Keepers.
"Commencing watcher Mimiron status analysis," the Archivum system stated around them, even as the strange vehicle came to a gentle stop at another platform, where the way forward ended in some kind of bizarre workshop.
"Watcher Mimiron's signal is linked to a self-destruct mechanism connected to the entirety of the Corridors on Ingenuity," the machine reported, "Trigger for self-destruct mechanism is code named "Big Red Button", Mimiron's own creation."
"Ok…" Nobu'tan said, waiting for the machine to give more information, which it did at its own pace, despite his urging.
"To retrieve Mimiron's sigil," the archivum continued, "initiate self-destruct sequence and defeat Mimiron before its completion…"
"Understood, so speed is of the essence," Nobu'tan said, starting down the large ramp toward the central workshop, where a mechanical gnome-like figure was dancing about some kind of large vehicle.
At the far side of the room, the indicated button was clear as day, large and crimson, and most importantly unguarded.
Holding up a hand for the others to halt outside, Nobu'tan himself entered the workshop, remaining completely unobserved by the obsessing machine creature. It was almost pathetic how easy it was to remain undetected as he walked around the circular room and approached the massive button.
Nobu'tan only paused for a moment to attempt to comprehend the lunacy of what he was about to do, before slamming the button with his entire hand.
"Self-destruct sequence initiated." A mechanical voice declared, "This area will self-destruct in ten minutes."
"Now why would you go and do something like that?" the creature, Mimiron, said, leaping on top of the vehicle he had been working on, "Didn't you see the sign that said 'DO NOT PUSH THIS BUTTON!'? How will we finish testing with the self-destruct mechanism active?"
"We won't" Nobu'tan replied, reaching out with the Fel, and surrounding the gnome-keeper with a sphere of Fel flame, penning it in and preventing it from leaping for his contraption.
The creature wailed, apparently able to feel pain despite the metallic nature of its body, but Nobu'tan did not relent. Even as the countdown ticked off the minutes until the room would be destroyed, he help the sphere of magic binding the creature, striving through pain to break the will of the creature manipulating it.
With only four minutes left, finally the gnome bellowed out a string of some strange language, and the computer paused. "Self-destruct sequence terminated. Override code A-9-0-5."
From above, several jets of magically enhanced water poured down, extinguishing even the magical fire that Nobu'tan had created, and freeing the keeper, who collapsed in aheap on the metal ground.
"It would appear that I've made a slight miscalculation." He said, slowly rising once more but clearly in no hurry to continue resisting, "I allowed my mind to be corrupted by the fiend in the prison, overriding my primary directive. All systems seem to be functional now. Clear."
"The Ancient Gate of the Keepers had been unlocked," the Archivum said over their heads, and Mimiron tilted his head, quickly seeming to understand their purpose here.
"I am indebted to you for freeing me fom the terrible corruption that besets this place. I have not yet fully recovered, but I can help you battle Yogg-Saron." He said, almost as though programmed to, as Nobu'tan could detect some manner of difference in the word and phrasing from how the Keeper had spoken previously.
"We will gladly take your aid," he said, "My forces out to have rescued the other keepers by now, and we ought to meet them back in the central area."
"I can get us there quickly," Mimiron said, unsteadily rising and directing the Stormreaver forces to a circular teleportation platform that they had bypassed when arriving. "This waygate is connected with many others throughout Ulduar, but we can take it back to the overlook and join with the others to plan out how to destroy the prisoner before he escapes further."
"Do it," Nobu'tan requestion, gratefully stepping into position and warping away, reappearing on the upper platform past the hulking stone giant they had destroyed to make their own bridge.
The other clans had returned, each company with a titan keeper alongside them, each looking worse for wear but in good spirits otherwise.
"Keepers," Nobu'tan addressed the four of them, even as he approached the ring of observation, "we face another threat than just the corruption of Yogg-Saron. The Algalon Failsafe was activated… we need your sigils to go and ensure that Reply-code Alpha is sent, to save our world from reorigination."
Nobu'tan had made sure to use all the key words that Brann and the Archivum had mentioned, in order to be as clear for the keepers as possible, and the looks between them was promising.
"Yogg-Saron is the more imminent threat," Mimiron said, "Algalon has not as of yet arrived, so there is time to deal with the Old God before turning our attention to what to do regarding reorigination."
"This world is not too far gone, even with the Old Gods," the female keeper, Freya, declared, "The mortal life has done much to prevent the corruption from spreading. We must assist them in protecting this World Soul."
"Then lend us your aid, as we march into the prison and slay this avatar of Yogg-Saron," Nobu'tan requested, understanding that these sentient machines would not do so unless officially requested to do so.
"Combat matrix enhanced. Behold wondrous rapidity!" Mimiron said, as power jolted off of him around the Dark Horde forces.
"The veil of winter will protect you, champions!" the hulking mountain giant declared, and the powers of frost surged around them.
"Eonar, your servant calls for your blessing!" the female said, and life-mending energy flowed in torrents around Nobu'tan and his people.
"Golganneth, lend me your strength! Grant my mortal allies the power of thunder!" the final keeper declared, allowing lightning to explode around them.
Now armed with the gifts of the Keepers, Nobu'tan set his sights on the last passageway, which he could sense led down into the pit where the Old God awaited them.
Despite all these advantages, Nobu'tan couldn't shake the feeling that this scenario was exactly what the being wanted, and when they spotted the Twilight Hammer Cultists literally worshipping at the runed gate that barred access to the prison.
"He is here, the herald of the End Times!" one of them declared, pointing at Nobu'tan.
