N
Never before have I been in such a treacherous, horrible place. It felt like it had been weeks since I had seen the light of day. My group trudged on, and I followed suit, defeating hordes of Dark Iron Dwarves in between large, hulking monsters. First there was Ambassador Flamelash, then Lord Incendius, then Fineous Darkvire among countless others. My comrades tore through the place without so much as a hint of fatigue.
After fighting our way through the tombs of Doom’Rel, we found ourselves in the middle of a seemingly endless arena filled with hundreds of tall columns. I stopped dead and stared in awe, but my group continued on unfazed. “Quick, grab a torch!” one of them yelled. To my left there was a dimly lit torch. I took it and ran along with my party. Darting in and out of the shadows, we were attacked by a mindless heap of Dwarves. Instead of taking on our enemies, we kept running toward a series of braizers to the back of the room. We split up. I hurled my torch into the southern braizer as the Night Elf lit the second.
Never before have I been in such a treacherous, horrible place. It felt like it had been weeks since I had seen the light of day.
Suddenly the room seemed to light up. Running through a huge, stone door we were then standing at the base of a long corridoor filled with a series of suspicious-looking statues. The ground shook, as a large fire elemental came lumbering toward us. By now, I had grown accustomed to such circumstances. “Here we go again”, I thought to myself as I unsheathed my weapon.
The fight was not as clean as I would have expected. Those suspicious looking statues began pouring fire onto the floors. We had to take caution as the raging inferno made its way down the room. With my sheild smouldering on the ground, I frustratedly hurled my mace at the flowing mass. To my surprise, I missed entirely. It landed with a smash at the far side of the corridor as the elemental succumbed to it’s attackers.
Wasting no time I followed my group into the next room, where on a high throne sat an old, stout Dwarf with a long, black beard. Did we finally make it? Was this Emperor Thaurissian? He lifted his head and with a low growl spoke mockingly to us. “Here again? You are too late!” He then stood up, and as if controlled by the sheer force of the Dwarf, groups of Dark Iron Dwarves came rushing toward us in waves.
Suddenly my group didn’t seem quite as confident as before. We took down the first group and second, but I could sense a feeling of dread as we pressed on. By the fifth group we were all sore and battle worn. With his mindless army laying dead on the ground, Thaurissian took action.
He effortlessly hurled his glowing mace, knocking us clear off the ground. As I and my comrades picked ourselves off the ground, the Emperor struck with devastating force, taking out the Night Elf’s pet in a single blow. He then turned to my fellow warrior, and in an instant kocked him to the ground, dead. His axe landed dead next to him. In it’s reflection I saw a bright light coming from behind the throne. Suddenly I understood why this corrupted Emperor wasn’t taking any damage. A Dwarven priestess was casting healing spells on him. I turned around to see him rushing towards the Gnome mage, jumping over the limp bodies of my comrades.
This was my chance. I rushed towards the Priestess, catching her off guard. She fell to the ground, then looking up, pleaded with me. “Please, just do it! End this madness! For Bronzebeard!” I didn’t have time to react. She grabbed a knife from off the ground and plunged it straight into her heart. I looked over my shoulder to see Thaurissian running frantically towards me with the fury of a love lost burning in his eyes. Sparks ignited the room as our maces crashed against each other. Spinning around backwards I swung my mace with all the force I could possibly gather. It knocked the Emperor clear across the head. He fell to the ground with black blood flowing from his open wound. Without the healing touch of the Priestess, Thaurissian was no more powerful than any of his minions.
It was finally over. The sun was going down as I made my way out of Blackrock Mountain. Riding through the gates of Morgans Vigil, the hot, ash filled air was not as terrible as I remembered. Anything was better than being stuck in that dungeon.
I spoke of the deeds of myself and my fallen comrades to thunderous applause. I was not expecting such a reception, but it served as a reminder as to why I did this to begin with. The people of Azeroth despite these treacherous events still held out hope that one day this land would find peace. If I can bring any sense of peace to these people; my people, then all of my efforts thus far have not been in vein.
