• Moira, Alleria, Thaelin Darkanvil and a band of heroes teleport to the Firelands from a strange golden portal. They arrive to the inner sanctum of the Sulfuron Keep. The area is filled with scorched bodies and broken elemental bracers. The injured figure of Smolderon looms over the battlefield. He welcomes the party:
Smolderon: They appeared out of nowhere. We were conducting a ritual… I was preparing to consume the essence of the pool of Sulfuron, in order to obtain the true power of a Firelord. To truly replace Ragnaros as the patriarch of fire. I was fast enough to drink from the enchanted cup, yet they managed to take his corpse with them.
Moira: They want to resurrect him?
Smolderon: It’s plainly impossible. And they won’t be able to appoint their majordomo as a new firelord without the essence of this pool.
Alleria: I’m afraid that they have a different purpose all together. Quickly!
• Heroes arrive to a distant corner of the Firelands. The land here is covered with some sort of golden dust. Nearly blinding light starts to break forth from an altar on the distance:
Thaelin: I can’t see anything here. It’s too bright! I’ve spent years, surrounded by the radiance of fire in our forges, but this… this is different. It’s marvelous. So beautiful.
Moira: Thaelin, what’s wrong with you?
Thaelin: It’s alright, my queen. It’s indeed beautiful. Yet ours is the kingdom of flame. Whatever this is, it’s a corruption, threatening the existence of Firelands.
Moira: Light, which corrupts…how can this be?
Alleria: Thaelin is right. The Light is corrupting Ragnaros’s corpse. We must stop them. Make haste, heroes!
• Heroes arrive to the source of the recent Light explosion. A giant lava pool, which bristles with holy energy. Xe’ra sends her power to the pool. She’s accompanied by an orc in the plate armor of the Army of the Light. Albeit, he is bare chested and wields a golden Warsong axe. He holds injured Yrel in his arms.
Maggosh Hellscream: The Light? Corrupts? These words alone serve as the testament of your own pestilence. You are the only corruption here. Twisted by the servant of the Void. Apostoles of darkness. But it is of no matter. Soon, our new servant shall arise from the flame! He will cleanse this world from your filth! He is the salvation of this world.
• A strange mist of green energy rings starts to circle above the pool:
Mysterious voice: Oh, yes. I’ve heard this tale before. You’ve taught him well, “mother”. Back then, it happened just in the same way. Do you still remember the name of your old “son”? Go ahead, tell them all about this… mother.
Xe’ra: You!? But you were stripped away of your memories! Impossible! You have no right to interfere! Begone!
Mysterious voice: I hear the cries of my brethren… I can feel, how his agony echoes across the most distant corners of creation. Can you feel it too, Xe’ra? Just like how a stone tossed in the water leaves ripples… just like that, his feelings resonate throughout the fabric of space.
Moira: Who… are you?
• With a great explosion, the mist takes shape of a giant elemental creature:
Mysterious voice: I am the youngest of the Four. Last of the firstborn. The one, who survived her last crusade. Father of air elementals. The incarnation of sound. People of your world call me “Murmur”. We weren’t born at the Dawn, yet we were the children of the original darkness of space. Nor Light, nor Void. I was the Sound. Yet, this eternal conflict has driven me insane. Yet, I am still alive. And I shall avenge my kin.
Maggosh: You are too late, filthy mongrel! In our new world there will be no need of you or your sound! Rise, Surthranos, the Lord of Mercy. Rise, and deliver salvation to this world! Cleanse the corruption!
• The ritual is complete. An enormous elemental born from both Fire and Light arises from the pool:
Surthranos: All which exists… exists only... to burn. Fire. Why… I am not the flames anymore? Who am I?..
Xe’ra: Fire is but a continuation of Light. Its twisted form. But you, you are the embodiment of purity.
Surthranos: No… No! I was the fire… I remember the name: Ragnaros. The god killer. But he… he is dead?.. I am Surthranos, the one, who was born in the ashes of black. I shall cleanse myself from this accursed white flame! All shall be annihilated! This world shall be purged in flame! Nothing but the black cinder shall remain!
Maggosh: Just as I have feared. It was stupid to bet everything on the idiotic elementals. Xe’ra, take Yrel, and leave this place as fast as you can! I will delay them. Come, heroes of Azeroth! I, exarch Maggosh, the Heart of Purity, will show you what it means to be a Hellscream!
Yrel: Maggosh, no… Don’t leave me alone! I…
Maggosh: I know… Yrel, my only beacon of hope. Xe’ra, do it now!
• Surthranos goes into a frenzy. The whole plato is enveloped by blinding snow white glow, while golden flames start to burst forward from the ground. The only figure, which remains clearly visible amongst this chaos, is Murmur, protected by his forcefield:
Murmur: My brothers and sister died in the same way. But today, for the first time in long aeons, we will sing the song of victory. Victory over the tyranny of the Light! I promise to release you from this suffering, o fallen son of flame.
• Cathedral of Light, Stormwind. One month later:
Velen: It pains me to even hear this. You told me that you would never become the same as your father. And now... you lead- How do you call all of this? Is it the Second Legion?
Yrel: It’s not true! Prophet, listen to me! I beg you! We are nothing like the Legion. I know that it’s hard to accept this new way. Trust me, I understand. It was just as difficult for me! But as a proof of our good will, of my own trust in you, I present you… her. You know better than anyone, that her name means “the Light” in our most ancient dialect… and thus I made her whole again. Nuuri, First Shield of Xe’ra. Her most beloved daughter.
Velen: How?.. Kil’jaeden… I thought, he had killed her. Forced her to suffer for my actions…
Nuuri: My love, do not fear. It is me. Indeed, I suffered a cruel fate, and the last breath of my life was full of pain and terror. But the Light had forged me a new one. Such is our destiny. You, too, had suffered so much… Come, my beloved, do not you wish to reclaim, what was lost? To be with your family again?
Velen: Of all people... Not you too…
Nuuri: If the Holy Radiance wishes it so, the Mother will return our son too.
Velen: It’s a lie! He died in my own arms! And you can’t be Nuuri! Stay away from me!
Xe’ra: My old friend. Tell me, do you simply cling to this old grudge against me, or is it because in her old life, Nuuri was… different? I remember her being less caring about the true way. But the Light brings change. Your time in the shadows had taught you otherwise. This mistake had corrupted you. But your healing will commence soon enough.
• Forest Song, Ashenvale. A few months later:
Yrel: Prophet... Your wounds: the pain must be horrible. I can't lose you again. I will use the Gift of the First and-
Velen: Don't worry, Yrel. I managed to get on my feet with wounds far more gruesome than this one. In time, they will heal.
Yrel: I'm sure, you know that. But the Light's Heart can heal you in the blink of an eye. Your wounds are too deep to just endure them. Moreover, this power can return your youth.
Velen: Indeed. But these wounds, these signs of old age - they are all a part of my being. They remind me of the past. It's my choice to never let go of my guilt, my sorrows. You know, a friend once told me a great wisdom. He said, "We are our scars".
Smolderon: They appeared out of nowhere. We were conducting a ritual… I was preparing to consume the essence of the pool of Sulfuron, in order to obtain the true power of a Firelord. To truly replace Ragnaros as the patriarch of fire. I was fast enough to drink from the enchanted cup, yet they managed to take his corpse with them.
Moira: They want to resurrect him?
Smolderon: It’s plainly impossible. And they won’t be able to appoint their majordomo as a new firelord without the essence of this pool.
Alleria: I’m afraid that they have a different purpose all together. Quickly!
• Heroes arrive to a distant corner of the Firelands. The land here is covered with some sort of golden dust. Nearly blinding light starts to break forth from an altar on the distance:
Thaelin: I can’t see anything here. It’s too bright! I’ve spent years, surrounded by the radiance of fire in our forges, but this… this is different. It’s marvelous. So beautiful.
Moira: Thaelin, what’s wrong with you?
Thaelin: It’s alright, my queen. It’s indeed beautiful. Yet ours is the kingdom of flame. Whatever this is, it’s a corruption, threatening the existence of Firelands.
Moira: Light, which corrupts…how can this be?
Alleria: Thaelin is right. The Light is corrupting Ragnaros’s corpse. We must stop them. Make haste, heroes!
• Heroes arrive to the source of the recent Light explosion. A giant lava pool, which bristles with holy energy. Xe’ra sends her power to the pool. She’s accompanied by an orc in the plate armor of the Army of the Light. Albeit, he is bare chested and wields a golden Warsong axe. He holds injured Yrel in his arms.
Maggosh Hellscream: The Light? Corrupts? These words alone serve as the testament of your own pestilence. You are the only corruption here. Twisted by the servant of the Void. Apostoles of darkness. But it is of no matter. Soon, our new servant shall arise from the flame! He will cleanse this world from your filth! He is the salvation of this world.
• A strange mist of green energy rings starts to circle above the pool:
Mysterious voice: Oh, yes. I’ve heard this tale before. You’ve taught him well, “mother”. Back then, it happened just in the same way. Do you still remember the name of your old “son”? Go ahead, tell them all about this… mother.
Xe’ra: You!? But you were stripped away of your memories! Impossible! You have no right to interfere! Begone!
Mysterious voice: I hear the cries of my brethren… I can feel, how his agony echoes across the most distant corners of creation. Can you feel it too, Xe’ra? Just like how a stone tossed in the water leaves ripples… just like that, his feelings resonate throughout the fabric of space.
Moira: Who… are you?
• With a great explosion, the mist takes shape of a giant elemental creature:
Mysterious voice: I am the youngest of the Four. Last of the firstborn. The one, who survived her last crusade. Father of air elementals. The incarnation of sound. People of your world call me “Murmur”. We weren’t born at the Dawn, yet we were the children of the original darkness of space. Nor Light, nor Void. I was the Sound. Yet, this eternal conflict has driven me insane. Yet, I am still alive. And I shall avenge my kin.
Maggosh: You are too late, filthy mongrel! In our new world there will be no need of you or your sound! Rise, Surthranos, the Lord of Mercy. Rise, and deliver salvation to this world! Cleanse the corruption!
• The ritual is complete. An enormous elemental born from both Fire and Light arises from the pool:
Surthranos: All which exists… exists only... to burn. Fire. Why… I am not the flames anymore? Who am I?..
Xe’ra: Fire is but a continuation of Light. Its twisted form. But you, you are the embodiment of purity.
Surthranos: No… No! I was the fire… I remember the name: Ragnaros. The god killer. But he… he is dead?.. I am Surthranos, the one, who was born in the ashes of black. I shall cleanse myself from this accursed white flame! All shall be annihilated! This world shall be purged in flame! Nothing but the black cinder shall remain!
Maggosh: Just as I have feared. It was stupid to bet everything on the idiotic elementals. Xe’ra, take Yrel, and leave this place as fast as you can! I will delay them. Come, heroes of Azeroth! I, exarch Maggosh, the Heart of Purity, will show you what it means to be a Hellscream!
Yrel: Maggosh, no… Don’t leave me alone! I…
Maggosh: I know… Yrel, my only beacon of hope. Xe’ra, do it now!
• Surthranos goes into a frenzy. The whole plato is enveloped by blinding snow white glow, while golden flames start to burst forward from the ground. The only figure, which remains clearly visible amongst this chaos, is Murmur, protected by his forcefield:
Murmur: My brothers and sister died in the same way. But today, for the first time in long aeons, we will sing the song of victory. Victory over the tyranny of the Light! I promise to release you from this suffering, o fallen son of flame.
• Cathedral of Light, Stormwind. One month later:
Velen: It pains me to even hear this. You told me that you would never become the same as your father. And now... you lead- How do you call all of this? Is it the Second Legion?
Yrel: It’s not true! Prophet, listen to me! I beg you! We are nothing like the Legion. I know that it’s hard to accept this new way. Trust me, I understand. It was just as difficult for me! But as a proof of our good will, of my own trust in you, I present you… her. You know better than anyone, that her name means “the Light” in our most ancient dialect… and thus I made her whole again. Nuuri, First Shield of Xe’ra. Her most beloved daughter.
Velen: How?.. Kil’jaeden… I thought, he had killed her. Forced her to suffer for my actions…
Nuuri: My love, do not fear. It is me. Indeed, I suffered a cruel fate, and the last breath of my life was full of pain and terror. But the Light had forged me a new one. Such is our destiny. You, too, had suffered so much… Come, my beloved, do not you wish to reclaim, what was lost? To be with your family again?
Velen: Of all people... Not you too…
Nuuri: If the Holy Radiance wishes it so, the Mother will return our son too.
Velen: It’s a lie! He died in my own arms! And you can’t be Nuuri! Stay away from me!
Xe’ra: My old friend. Tell me, do you simply cling to this old grudge against me, or is it because in her old life, Nuuri was… different? I remember her being less caring about the true way. But the Light brings change. Your time in the shadows had taught you otherwise. This mistake had corrupted you. But your healing will commence soon enough.
• Forest Song, Ashenvale. A few months later:
Yrel: Prophet... Your wounds: the pain must be horrible. I can't lose you again. I will use the Gift of the First and-
Velen: Don't worry, Yrel. I managed to get on my feet with wounds far more gruesome than this one. In time, they will heal.
Yrel: I'm sure, you know that. But the Light's Heart can heal you in the blink of an eye. Your wounds are too deep to just endure them. Moreover, this power can return your youth.
Velen: Indeed. But these wounds, these signs of old age - they are all a part of my being. They remind me of the past. It's my choice to never let go of my guilt, my sorrows. You know, a friend once told me a great wisdom. He said, "We are our scars".
No comments:
Post a Comment