Matoclaw was lucky that Alariona recognized the ancients as a larger threat than a lone druid, else she might have had a pursuer. As it stood, however, the twilight dragon, precariously perched upon the statue of Malorne as though riding the giant stag, had her focus abruptly torn away from the tauren and redirected to the ancients of war. They looked far more formidable.. but they were made of wood. The dragon's upper lip curled back in a snarling sneer - did they really expect a bunch of animate trees to stand a chance against the forces of fire?
Alariona spectated the first couple assaults against the ancients from afar, mowing down mortal combatants that tried to prevent her from joining the fight. When the ancients began to resist the attacks thrown at them, a little light went off in the back of the drake's mind. Of the few things unique to a twilight dragon was their ability to vampirically drain magical energy.. It was an inborn skill that Alariona possessed, though she was fairly unpracticed in it. Still, it seemed like a very good moment for such a talent to be used, so she took to the sky only long enough to get herself from the statue at the sanctuary to where the ancients blocked off the road onward. She landed before them with a great thud and slinked a bit closer, still 'sneering' at them in an excessively arrogant way.
Only when this close did she notice how the ancients were literally rooted into the ground. In an experimental effort, Alariona breathed a long line of shadowflame at the ground their roots were planted into, but she didn't wait to see the effects. Poising herself with her wings spread up and outward and her head reared back, and within a brief moment the ground beneath the rooted ancients began to respond to her silent, invisible invocation: soft streaks of violet light formed at the roots of the ancients and began to work their way toward Alariona's talons, glowing in a clearly magical way.. Upon reaching Alariona's talons, the claws too would glow softly, as would her eyes, and her scales would become marginally brighter as she slowly and steadily began sapping the energy from her foes.
The prince's burning eyes narrowed as the druid cowardly flew away from her inevitable fate. She would burn. Her friends and family would burn. Her world would burn. Turning to the newest threat, he noted that the ancients were unhindered by the fires of his minions... but his fire was stronger. Roaring his fury, Prince Carbonis jumped from the cliff, his landing shaking the earth, and in but a few strides was up in front of the ancients. He lifted his claymore, and brought it down in a vicious overhead swing right into an ancient's head. An inferno sprung to life the moment the blade touched the living tree's bark. However, it was disappointingly short-lived, as the bark was indeed strong. Still, he had caused some damage, for the creature's bark was indeed singed, and his claymore had bit deep. Parrying a strike from the ancient, Carbonis followed up with a solid hit to the arm, then the leg. Each time, an inferno erupted on the creature. Each time, the ancient's movements became more and more sloppy. This ancient would eventually fall and surrender to the flame...
Virazor swooped around, and glided towards the ancient that Carbonis attacked, bearing his claws. As he collided with the tree, he dug his talons in, clamping them upon the creature's heavily weakened bark chest. Then, with one swift movement, he pushed off with his wings, ripping out the ancient's chest cavity. Waning, it fell forward, lifeless to be consumed by the earth.
"Tear them apart! Fight tooth and claw, and shred them till there is nothing left but splinters!", he roared manically, landing oppositie those ancients that remained.
((Sorry about being super slacky with posting. Been a little busy.))
"You fool! Do not lose yourself! Keep them whole, lest you wish to rid yourself of potential soldiers!"
The prince raised a molten fist in the air. The ancients sensed something terrible was about to happen, and instincively moved away from the spectacle. Carbonis spoke kalimag in a deep rumble, "Let the flames, the rage, the fury consume you, guardian of nature, and be reborn in flame!"
At once, the corpse burst into flame, eating away the bark till it was black and smooth. Bits of the guardian burnt away, it's features changing dramatically. Then, the flames stopped consuming the ancient. Instead of eating away at the prone form, they seemed to emit from it. The newly born elemental, it's arms and legs not wholly connected to it's torso, but bound to it by the elemental flame running over and within it's body, rose from the ground and rumbled, "I live to serve, Prince Carbonis..."
What seemed like a smile flickered across the elemental prince's face. "Kill your former allies so that they may be reborn in the flame."
The elemental bowed, said "I hear and obey...", and began to strike at the other ancients with a fury that it didn't have before.
((I'll just keep moving this along instead of letting people do some fighting. Since, no one is doing much. :/))
With the last ancients converted to their own minions, they vacated the ruins of the Sanctuary of Malorne. Before their complete departure, the sacred site was descecrated with flames and banners. Leaving ashes in their wake, they looked upon the Shrine of Aesennia in the distance. Trecking forth, they gazed upon the blissful sight.
"We must cleanse it with flame! For the master! In his name!", cackled Virazor, as he led a charge against the shrine.
Yet, as they neared it, it seemed that their opposition was somewhat prepared. With a wall made of vines and fallen trees, rooted ancient protectors lined it. Although only two sat form, within their grasps and surrounding them, were solid boulders. As they came into view, the nearest evergreen ancient lifted one, and thrust it at them. Virazor watched as the rock collided with the earth inches away from him, crushing a flame druid. As he was instantly silenced, Virazor looked back towards their defense.
Then, from behind the wall of vines and leaves, he heard two high pitched voices. Two dryads galloped forth, each with a spear in hand.
"We will attack together, Mylune!", barked one.
"Yes we shall, Avrilla. FOR THE ANIMALS!", screeched the other.
Within moments, the two dryads charged, followed by another dozen unnamed ones, as well as Night Elven Wardens. Hurling spears and glaives at them, Virazor glanced back at his allies.
"ATTACK! In the name of Ragnaros!", he roared, taking flight, and flying directly for their druidic wall. Narrowly dodging an incoming boulder launched by a rooted ancient, he swerved and shot an array of shadowflame bolts at the wall of vines and bark. They passed straight through the wines and wood, burning holes into their defense.
"Weakness to flame! Ignite it! INCINERATE THEM SO THAT ONLY ASHES REMAIN!", he screeched, coming around for another strike at them.
((We're now at the outskirts of the Shrine of Aessina. Mylune/Avrilla (both incredibly annoying dryads), another 13 unnamed dryads with spears, and 10 Hyjal Wardens are charging at us. There's a wall behind them, with two Ancient Protectors, hurling boulders, infront of it. They're all weak against fire. Kill em quick. There'll be another boss available once that wall has been burned down.))
Flammia rushed past the falling boulders that descended upon their ranks. He saw few elementals and druids fall, weaklings to fall to such attacks. Unworthy to sever my lord. I will show them how a true flame burns for Lord Ragnaros! His blades glowed from within as he charged to meet the two dryads charging. Lowering his blade he increased his speed leaving a wake of burning ground, he raised on blade as it burst into flag and trailed as if it held a banner. "FOR LORD RAGNAROS!"
His blade whistled down through the air as it collided with the first dryads, Mylune, spear shaft. Twisting about he brought his second blade to parry the oncoming thrust of the other dryads. Fire spilled from the collisions with the spears and soon the ground all around Flammia was burnt or burning. He locked himself in combat with these two dryads and forced them to stay by surrounding them slowly with burning ground. Several spears and glaives glanced off his armor or hurled into his mass-less legs and started to melt and deform from the heat. His bracers that bound him to this world were far to small of a target for the warriors behind the wall to hit but the two dryads didn't relent in trying to strike at them.
((Not really sure how dryads would fight so I'm gonna leave that part up to you eylaan or you can pm me some suggestions and ill finish out the fight.))
His blades clashed against the unrelenting spears of the two dryads. Their needled points struck his armor and even pierced his molten body a few times but in this realm it mattered little. He relished in it. "Metal doesn't hurt fire pathetic dryads", he shouted, almost matching each word with a strike at them. With that though they began to focus their attacks against his shackles to this realm. Swarms of little things melted in his fires and flashes of green and white light bounced off his armor. All these forms of nature stung and made him wary but the air here was more than enough to keep him fueled. His flames might not have burned as bright in this realm as they did in the Firelands but here they burned much longer. It was one of the reasons he wanted to claim this land for his Lord as he was sure his Lord would appreciate the air here too.
They flanked him from both sides and it was all he could do to keep them off with his head constantly turning, "ENOUGH!" A blast of crimson fire radiated from his core and down to his mass-less legs and sent the wave in all directions. The first dryad, Mylune, turned and jumped using her four powerful legs to avoid the rampaging blast. The second, Avrilla, was not so lucky. Flammia towered well above the dryads and the wave of fire ended at her chest. Carried backwards by the flame Avrilla was thrown to the ground, smoking and not awake but alive. Her partner screamed out in rage against Flammia and shouted to Avrilla to find out if she was alright. "That dryad is to fuel the fire of my Lord. Now you are for mine!" Enthralled by his own seemly kill of Avrilla, Flammia continued his warpath against Mylune. Her courage seemed to be failing at the sight of her severally injured friend. More and more he closed the gap against Mylune until his fire engulfed swords succeeded in slicing through her spear. It's ashes littered the ground as it slowly dwindled to the fire.
More flashes of light stung at his armor and face but none with the same veracity as before. From deep within his arms he summoned his own magma and flung it in two directions trapping the dryad. He raised his blades intending to finish off the kneeling dryad, but she flung her arms in the air and great vines burst from the ash covered grounds and wrapped themselves tightly around his shackles. They squeezed and pulled at them. Rage built up in Flammia at her attempt to send him back to the Firelands this early into his mission for his Lord. He forces the vines back up as he ignited them. The burning vines held tight as the dryad struggled to keep him entangled, but it was all she could do. Spears peppered his back as obvious help was coming for the dryad. "No!" he thought and screamed. With a mighty effort he snapped the failing vines and brought his twin blades down into the dryad. She fell dead to the ground as the flames of his blade already started to consume her corpse. Turning quickly he sent two waves of fire from his blades and engulfed the two sentinels who were nearly on top of him. His flame cooked them from inside their own armor. He let out a cry, "For Lord Ragnaros!" as he set the ground around him on fire and looked for the other dryad.
((If anyone wants to fight the other dryad go ahead otherwise I'll have the fight with her next =D))
Baeldnir finally arrived at the scene of the battle. He had waited out the initial fight on the other side of the portal, observing the abilities of his 'companions'. But now... now he was spoiling for a fight.
"FER THA HAMMER!" he yelled and attacked a nearby driad. Her spear shot out and rebounded off his elementium plate armour before being broken with a single swipe of the cultist's hand-turned-axe. The molten limb changed shape again and he hit the guardian on the side of her face with what looked like a maul made of lava, instantly burning off half her head.
Virazor cheerily laughed, as he watched the battle unfold beneath them. Circling in the air, he turned back upon their defensive wall. Breathing another swath of shadowflame upon the construct of bark and leaves, he watched it as the flame consumed it. One more carpet run, and their defenses should be obliterated. The ancients still pursued with throwing the occasional projectile at him, but none could counter his swiftness.
Everyones' bindings to Azeroth had been shattered by a freak attack from an emerging Elderlimb, the ancient of lore. As all elementals in the vicinity were dragged back to the Firelands, Virazor himself opened a portal to take those remaining back too. A retreat was the only way to ensure survival.
Hyjal was saved.
The end.
((There's not been much activity over the last few days. So, I'm closing this. Sorry, but I can't really be bothered if no one else can either.))
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