Bombaros: Fury of the Mountain

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Bombaros: Fury of the Mountain

Post by Bombli on Sun Jul 31, 2011 12:44 pm

(( This is the story I wrote for the Three Hammers story contest. It is the first story I've ever written about my characters and I really have no experience in the field, so any comments/reviews, however harsh they might be, are welcome Smile ))

Bombaros: Fury of the Mountain

They had been doing this for days. Signs of exhaustion were evident on everyone’s faces. But they could not stop. Failure was not an option. The fate of Azeroth lay in their hands.
The best shamans of the Earthen Ring were gathered around the Maelstrom, standing atop the judged pieces of earth that sprung from the middle of the ocean. They were trying to commune with the troubled elements of the world, in an attempt to soothe them and prevent the rift between Azeroth and the Elemental Plane of Earth from collapsing upon itself. They were in perfect harmony and spiritual union with each other, channeling the Spirit of Life collectively to achieve their goal.

Among them was Bombaros Mountainfury. A Dwarf shaman, son of the Bronzebeard warrior Bombli Mountainfury, born to a Wildhammer mother in Aerie Peak, Bombaros was neither truly Bronzebeard, nor Wildhammer. He was simply a Dwarf. He took after his father, sharing the same deep blue eyes and heavy-set build as him, but his external appearance matched that of most Wildhammers, with tattoos covering his whole body and his long blond hair and beard styled in a wild-looking fashion. Having grown up with his mother in the Hinterlands, he had been trained in the ways of the shaman, learning to communicate with the elements and use them in battle, as well as those of the gryphon rider, riding the noble flying beasts with skill and respect.
Following the recent events in Khaz Modan, the mysterious petrification of King Magni Bronzebeard and the forming of the Council of Three Hammers, Bombaros had come to Ironforge along with many of his Wildhammer brethren. There, he had been contacted by members of the Earthen Ring, a global, independent organization of shamans, bent on preserving the balance of the elemental forces on Azeroth. They had taken an interest in the rise of the Dwarf shamans, who had seemed to be forgotten by the world before the recent upheaval in the dwarven lands. Bombaros was one of the first Dwarves who had the honour of joining the Earthen Ring, and he didn’t regret his choice to follow them.

Now, several months after the great Cataclysm, fate had brought him to the epicenter of the destruction, the great Maelstrom. He was giving his best to assist his fellow shamans in maintaining the rift between the two Planes of existence. But they were all getting tired, too close to their limits. The elemental spirits had been stubbornly refusing to answer their calls, but they kept trying and trying.
“That’s enough for today, brothers and sisters. Go back to your shelters and we’ll resume our rituals tomorrow!” cried Farseer Nobundo, the first Broken shaman and arguably the greatest and most important shaman of the Alliance.
And so they did. Relieved to have finally found time to rest, the members of the Earthen Ring rode their wyverns and gryphons back to their shelters, located on some of the biggest islands around the Maelstrom. Bombaros too rode Bronzewing, his faithful female gryphon, and in less than a minute they had arrived to their destination. He dismounted and gave her food and a gentle pat as she sat comfortably on her roost.
Then he heard a familiar voice coming from behind him.
“I see ye’re takin’ good care o’ her.”
Bombaros turned around and smiled as he saw a face well-known to him. It was his father, Bombli, who had come to visit him.
Bombli Mountainfury. Also known as the Trogg-Slayer. That old Dwarf had seen many battles in his life. His long white hair and beard, as well as his numerous battle scars, indicated as much. Once again, he was dressed in the official Ironforge Guard Armor, as he had got used to after decades of serving in the Army, in contrast to Bombaros, who was wearing a simple shamanistic ceremonial robe.
“Father!” shouted Bombaros, as he walked to greet him. “What brings ye to ma humble dwellings here, in the edge of the world?”
“Straight tae the point, huh? C’mon, show yer daddy inside yer home, we have much tae talk about” Bombli replied.
“I see… A’right, follow me” said Bombaros, and the two walked inside his small wooden hut.
Bombli sat down on a chair next to the small table inside. Bombaros filled two big mugs with beer from the Thunderbrew distillery, as he always carried some barrels with him. He passed one of them to his father and sat down next to him.
“Cheers” he said, and the two started drinking.
“How are yer spells here goin’, son? Makin’ any progress?”
“I’ve told ye father, they ain’t exactly spells…”
“Aye, whatever it is ye’re doin’… Are ye gonna save Azeroth?”
“The biggest threat has been contained since we took care o’ the World Pillar problem… But the elements remain troubled, unresponsive. We’re doin’ our best tae calm them down, with nae results, so far... But I sense ye havnae come here tae ask me about the elements, father.”
Bombli nodded. “That’s true”, he said. “I’m here fer business.”
“Tis always about business with ye, dad…” replied Bombaros, with a tone of irony in his voice.
“C’mon, boy. We’ve talked about this afore. I’ve always cared about ye an’ yer mother. Stop whinin’ like a lass, an’ listen at what I have tae say…”
Bombli and Bombaros had a strange relationship. Bombli had never married his son’s mother or settled with them, as this was not the way of a lone warrior like him. However, he used to visit them often during his travels to the Hinterlands and made sure that they were safe and had everything they needed. He had been the one to teach Bombaros how to fight in melee combat, during his childhood, but he would never stay with them for a long time, as duty always called for him to fight in far-away lands. In truth, Bombli loved Bombaros more than anything in the world.
“I’m here tae deliver a message, Bombaros” he resumed. “Frem the Council o’ Three Hammers.”
Bombaros’s eyes widened with interest. “I’m listenin’.”
“Ye ‘re well aware o’ the situation in which King Magni Bronzebeard has been fer the last few months…”
“Aye” Bombaros nodded.
“The Council has finally decided tae dae somethin’ about it. They have called fer the best mages, priests and shamans o’ our race tae assemble at Ironforge an’ try tae find a solution tae the problem. A cure, if possible. I believe that ye should come as well, son.”
Bombaros raised an eyebrow. “My place is here with my fellow shamans, father… An’ why the fel dinnae the Council think about this afore?”
“I’m in nae position tae say, lad. I’m just a soldier. An’ ye said yerself that yer presence here has brought no significant results, as of late. No offence son, but it’s time ye reconsidered yer priorities. The Three Hammers call fer yer help, what’s yer answer?”
“I’m gunna think about it. But I cannae make any promises. An’ if my presence here is required, the fate o’ Azeroth does indeed take priority over the fate o’ the Bronzebeard King…”
Bombli clenched his fist, apparently angry. When Bombaros had come of age, his father had tried to persuade him to come to Ironforge and become a proper Bronzebeard, but he had refused, as he could not bear leaving the open skies of the Hinterlands. Bombli had respected that, but still, he always wished his son had followed him.
“Very well” Bombli said with a serious voice, trying to hide his disappointment. “I told ye what I had tae. I hope ye make the right choice, Bombaros. Farewell.”
Having said what needed to be said and finished his beer, Bombli stood up, walked out of his son’s hut and left.
Bombaros was lost in thought. What should he do? He decided that it was something he would have to talk about with his superior shamans. For now, all he needed was a good night’s sleep.

The next day, he got up earlier than usual. He wanted to have time to speak about his problem before the beginning of their rituals. He walked towards the shelters of the most powerful shamans, only to find Muln Earthfury, the Tauren shaman who was the leader of the Earthen Ring, waiting for him outside.
“Ah, I’ve been expecting you, Bombaros” he said.
“Expectin’ me? How so, master Earthfury?” inquired Bombaros, obviously surprised.
“I know what’s troubling you, young Dwarf. Your father told me about it yesterday.”
“He WHAT?”
“It’s alright, Bombaros, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your race needs you. Our presence here in the Maelstrom will probably not be required for much longer. We have done everything we possibly could to help the elements find peace, but I feel we will be needed elsewhere soon. You have been a valuable asset to our goal, young shaman. You are free to leave for now, if you so please.”
“I… thank ye, master. I willnae ferget yer kindness.”
“Remember, Mountainfury, you are among equals. You walk the path you choose to. May the spirits guide you on your journeys” said Muln and then turned his attention to other matters.
Bombaros bid him farewell and instantly ran to his hut to pack his things. His decision had been made. He was going to Ironforge.
Normally, he would need a ship to cross over to the Eastern Kingdoms. But that was not the case for a Gryphon Rider. He rode Bronzewing and flew like the wind over the troubled waters of the Great Sea, then the snowy peaks of Khaz Modan, until he finally reached the Gates of Ironforge.
Much had changed in the capital of the Dwarven Kingdom. Dwarves from all the three clans now roamed freely within its ancient halls. The coexistence of Bronzebeard, Wildhammer and Dark Iron Dwarves was causing quite a lot of tension between them, but it seemed like the situation was getting better over time.
Bombaros reached the gryphon roost and left Bronzewing in the care of the gryphon master. Strangely for someone who had grown up in the wild forests, the intense heat of the Great Forge did not alienate him, and he always felt at home inside the Mountain. His Bronzebeard heritage burned strong inside him.
What he needed now, after the long flight above the sea, was a mug of good ale. He walked towards the closest inn, The Drunken Boar, and ordered his drink. Inside, he came across a familiar white-bearded figure in Guard uniform, sitting alone at a table and getting drunk as usual.
“I knew ye’d make the right choice…” Bombli said to him.
“Ye shouldnae have spoken tae Muln, father. Twas none o’ yer business.” Bombaros stated bluntly.
“I expected ye’d git angry. But I did what had tae be done. Now that ye’re here though, why donnae ye sit down an’ have a drink with me?”
And so he did. They sat together, drank and ate for quite some time. They took the opportunity to discuss many world affairs, including the ongoing war between the Horde and the Alliance. They had always disagreed on that particular matter. Bombaros was more in favor of a diplomatic solution to the struggle between the two factions, stating that only together could they face the biggest threats against the very existence of Azeroth. Bombli, on the other hand, was not.
He was a staunch supporter of an all-out war against the Horde, which caused many even among his kind to call him a warmonger. He had first fought against the Orcs during the Second War. Rumor had it he had had a family before then, which was slain by the Horde during their attack on Khaz Modan. He would never speak about these matters though, as he was a closed book even to those who knew him. Despite this background, Bombli had recently fought alongside the Horde during the Third War, as well as the campaigns in Outland and Northrend, but any hope of peace he had fathomed back then was shattered after the events of the Wrath Gate, the Broken Front and the Horde’s change in leadership. He now followed King Varian Wrynn loyally in his military campaigns against Horde territory.

They spoke about all these things before retreating to the Mountainfury residence in the Military Ward for the night. A few days later, they would both have to be present at the meeting between the Council of Three Hammers and the magic users of Ironforge, to which Bombaros had been called by his father. It took place in the High Seat, with all members of the Council of and the Senate present. Dwarf magic users of every kind, either skilled in the Arcane, the Fel, the Ways of the Titans, the Light, the Shadow or the Elements, were present there, alongside Bombaros. Bombli served as one of the guards for the meeting, allowing inside only those who had been invited.
When everyone was present, Muradin Bronzebeard, the brother of King Magni Bronzebeard and Bronzebeard representative in the Council of Three Hammers, stepped up and spoke:
“Magic users o’ the Kingdom o’ the Three Hammers. Ye have been chosen as the best in yer fields. We have gathered ye here taeday tae assign ye a mission. As ye all know, our beloved King Magni has been turned intae diamond by that blasted ritual described on those tablets frem Ulduar. We initially thought he was dead, an’ most o’ us continue tae believe so.”
“However” Moira Thaurissan, King Magni’s daughter and Dark Iron representative in the Council interrupted and took the floor. “During the last weeks, we have heard strange reports frem those who are set tae guard the diamond form of my father. They mention strange sounds, like whispers, as well as a strange glow emanating frem him. It is time we, as a Council, did something about it.”
“That is yer mission!” exclaimed Falstad Wildhammer, the third member of the Council. “Ye are tae utilize yer knowledge o’ magic in any way ye can, tae try tae find the truth behind King Magni’s condition an’, if possible, a way tae bring him back tae life. If ye succeed, ye shall be handsomely rewarded.”
“That is, if ye survive. In that case, I will surely know about it” added the Wildhammer Fact Checker.
The Council members stayed for a bit longer to answer any questions raised by the participants in the meeting, and then dismissed them.
“How did it go?” asked Bombli when he got an opportunity to speak to his son.
“Not much information tae start with… We’d better git down there in Ol’ Ironforge an’ see fer ourselves” suggested Bombaros, and the two of them descended the stairs leading to the old heart of the mountain, where Magni was, along with other magic users who thought to do the same.
The diamond statue-like form of the King of Ironforge was just like they remembered it. Shaped by the same type of diamond that covered the walls of Old Ironforge, with diamond fragments scattered all around it, it made everyone sad by looking at it, at least the Bronzebeards. They wished they had the wisdom of their King to guide them through these perilous times.
Bombaros examined the site carefully and figured he would have to commune with the elements to ask for advice. Kneeling before King Magni, he said with a deep, respectful voice:
“Great spirits o’ the Earth, heed my call. I kin feel yer pain inside this diamond form of a fallen King. I beseech ye, grand me yer insight so I kin help save both ye an’ this unfortunate soul.”
And the Earth answered. It granted him a vision. A vision of the past. He saw snowy mountains, not the familiar peaks of Dun Morogh but heights ancient and forgotten. He saw ruins of a strange yet familiar architecture – an entire city – being besieged by mortals, who dared venture into its ancient halls. He saw Dwarves, inside a room filled with ancient tablets, written in a language which he did not understand. The Dwarves left, taking the tablets with them, but he remained inside the room. His gaze was fixed at a strange-looking wall in the deepest part of the room. Suddenly, the wall cracked and broke. He approached it and passed through the wall crack, to find himself walking in a huge corridor, with diamonds like the ones in Old Ironforge covering its walls. At the end of the corridor, he could make out the shape of a Dwarf dressed in impressive heavy armor and holding two hammers, one in each hand. It was King Magni Bronzebeard!
The vision suddenly stopped and Bombaros returned to reality. As he opened his eyes, his gaze was fixed on a diamond shard which lay on the floor. He figured it might be somehow related to the vision he just had, so he picked it up and put it in his backpack.
“What happened, son?” asked Bombli.
“I… I had a vision.”
“What did ye see?”
Bombli listened carefully as his son described to him what he had seen in detail. All clues pointed to one location.
“Ulduar” he said.
“The titan city in Northrend? What does it have tae dae with Magni?” Bombaros knew the answer, but was still confused by the vision.
“Those tablets describin’ the ritual Magni performed afore he was turned intae diamond… Brann Bronzebeard, High Explorer o’ the Explorers’ Guild, had found them there an’ sent them tae Ironforge. I maself helped transport them.”
“Ye think we could find something there tae reverse the ritual?”
“I dunno, boy… Tis a long shot, based on a vision alone…”
“But it’s th’ only lead we’ve got. Ye have a better suggestion?”
“A’right, Bombaros. Ye’ve got a point there.” He sighed. “We’re goin’ tae Northrend.”

They did some research of their own before departing for their journey. They asked members of the Explorers’ Guild and learned about the exact location where the tablets had been found. That was their destination. Having gathered all possible information, they prepared their gear and departed.
The journey itself was long and difficult. They boarded a ship from Menethil Harbor to the Howling Fjord and decided they could use their gryphons from then on. Bombli was not nearly as skilled at gryphon riding as his son, but he did know how to fly. He tried really hard to keep up with his son, who seemed to have the Wind itself by his side. After a few days and a few stops, they finally reached the gates of Ulduar in the Storm Peaks.
The great Titan city of Ulduar had in fact been built as a prison for an entity even the Titans could not, would not defeat, the Old God Yogg-Saron. It was a marvel of architecture and technology, a testament to the glory of the Titans, but now it lay deserted, as the mortal armies had successfully banished all evil from within it – or so it seemed.
They made their way through the ancient halls, following the directions on the map provided to them by High Explorer Magellas. A strange aura permeated them, and for a second they even thought they heard whispers in their heads. Was the Old God truly dead? Could one really kill such a thing? They tried not to harbor such thoughts.
After a lot of searching and wandering, they finally found the room they were looking for. It was the same room Bombaros had seen in his vision. It was filled with debris and it was obvious that most of the artifacts it had once housed had been removed by force. Bombaros walked to the depth of the room.
“This is it” said Bombaros.
“This is what?” asked Bombli.
“The wall I saw in my vision. This is it.”
“It does look a wee bit different frem th’ other walls. What kin ye make o’ it?”
“Well, it seems it willnae crack itself fer us. There must be somethin’ special about it.”
There were markings on the wall, something written in the language from Bombaros’s vision. Bombli figured it was the language of the Titans, as he had seen quite a few titanic sites in his time and had learned its basics.
“Son, this is written in Titan. I cannae make out exactly what it says, but I think it’s somethin’ about a stone… a crystal. An’ it does mention somethin’ about bein’ “one wi’ the mountain”. That was exactly what the ritual o’ the tablets said, Bombaros…”
Bombaros was trying to figure out a way to open the mysterious wall, when he remembered the diamond shard he had picked up from Old Ironforge. Could that be what the markings on the wall were talking about? He pulled it out of his backpack and held it towards the wall.
“Nothin’ happens, son. Tis pointless…”
“Wait” Bombaros insisted.
He tried to focus his senses on the piece of diamond he was holding. He asked the Earth once again for help and guidance. Indeed, it was the element he always felt closer too. All Dwarves were close to the Earth, especially the Bronzebeards, but only a shaman could communicate with it directly.
And all of a sudden, a spark of light came out of the shard and beamed towards the wall. It caused it to move and open, but no diamond corridor was on the other side. There was only a small metallic chest. The two Dwarves were filled with enthusiasm at their finding and proceeded to open it. Inside, they found yet another crystal. But this one looked different. It was pure white, neither diamond, nor any other mineral known to them. It radiated an intense, blinding glow and it was apparent that it had been shaped through higher craftsmanship, beyond that of the jewelcrafters of Azeroth. They closed the chest and knew at once they had to take it back to Ironforge.
“Well well. Look at what we’ve got here” a rough voice from behind them was heard.
They turned around immediately and saw an Orc, accompanied by other Orcs, Trolls, Tauren, Goblins, Forsaken and Blood Elves. The Dwarves were seriously outnumbered.
“What are ye doin’ here, Horde scum? Were ye followin’ us? Get out of our sight or be crushed like the beasts ye are!” shouted Bombli angrily, while securing the chest inside his backpack.
The Orc laughed. “Such bravery… and stupidity. Typical of Dwarves. Give us the chest and we’ll grant you a swift death.”
“Surely we can come tae an understandin’. There’s nae need tae shed blood” Bombaros was desperately trying to reach a diplomatic solution. “Yer Warchief wouldnae like tae hear that ye slew two Dwarves in cold blood tae steal their treasure!”
“Are you kidding me? The Warchief sent us to kill you!” The Orc cackled maniacly. “Especially you, Bombli. But we’re done talking. Get them, boys! For the Horde! For Hellscream!” he yelled and they charged towards the Dwarves.
Fortunately, the Dwarves were expecting some kind of battle inside Ulduar, so they were already armed. Bombli was wearing his golden Field Marshal’s Battlegear and holding a mighty hammer, an Ironforge Smasher, in each hand. Bombaros too was dressed in shamanistic mail armor and held two one-handed hammers, just like his father. He had taught him this fighting style, after all.
“FER KHAZ MODAN!” shouted Bombli as he started charging.
“Storm, Earth an’ Fire, heed my call” was all that Bombaros said, and he too charged to fight alongside his father, fire and thunder sprawling from his hammers.
The battle was fierce. The Dwarves were unrelenting, and many were slain by their hammers. The smell of burnt flesh, caused by Bombaros’s fiery attacks, filled the small room. But for all their courage and battle prowess, they were still outnumbered. They managed to fight their way out of the room to the central hallway, and decided it was time for a tactical retreat.
Bombaros let out a loud, shrieking whistle. Moments later, Bronzewing appeared right above their heads. Without hesitation, both Bombaros and Bombli jumped on top of her back and headed outside the halls of Ulduar. But just when they thought they were safe, the biggest problem showed itself. There was a Proto-dragon on their back! A Forsaken was riding it, bent on killing both Dwarves and their gryphon once and for all.
Bombaros reached for his Stormhammer. It was imbued with the essence of the Storm, lightning bursting from it. If he was any threat on foot, while airborne he was unstoppable.
“Hold on tight, dad” he said, just before performing a maneuver which brought them right behind the Proto-dragon.
He hurled his Stormhammer towards the Forsaken. It hit him right in the head and instantly killed him, throwing him off his mount at the same time. But the Proto-dragon would not stop hunting them.
“I’ll finish the job, boy” said Bombli, and with a brave jump he found himself atop the Proto-dragon. “Goodnight, lil’ dragon” he said before bashing his hammers onto its forehead, successfully killing it, and then jumped back onto Bronzewing.
“We did it father!” exclaimed Bombaros.
“Damn right we did. I told ye these Horde goons are up tae nae good. But they should think twice about crossin’ us next time! Let’s go now, we have a package tae deliver…”


The Orc who had threatened them in the first place had somehow survived and now roared in disappointment. He had to let his master know of his failure, and that scared him more than anything. He took out a black orb from his pocket and reluctantly placed it on the ground. In an instant, it burst into smoke, and the image of an old hooded Human was visible inside it.
“Have you succeeded, Gorkrak?” asked the Human.
“No, my Lord, they escaped with the crystal… But we got them to believe we are with the Horde!”
“You are a disappointment, Orc. And Lord Deathwing doesn’t tolerate disappointments like you. Make sure this is not repeated, or I’ll kill you myself. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Twilight Father… It shall not be repeated, I assure you.”


Bombli and Bombaros arrived at Ironforge triumphantly. They didn’t know exactly what it was that they had found in Ulduar. But it was the first beacon of hope for the fate of King Magni Bronzebeard, and as such the archaeologists and explorers of Ironforge got down to studying it immediately. They reached the conclusion that this specific crystal, under some undefined conditions, could possibly revert the King back to his original state. Alive or not, none could tell. But the Council unanimously decided that it was worth a try.
Eventually, a ritual was planned. One Dwarf was to approach the petrified King Magni while holding the crystal in his hands, in order to see what would happen. It was a dangerous task and, due to the results of the first ritual, in which Magni had tried to commune with the earth, everyone was afraid to pull it off. However, Bombli volunteered to be the one to try, stating that he was among the ones who found it and that he was old enough to die. In truth, he might just have wanted to protect his son, who also seemed interested in performing the ritual.
The day of the ritual had come. The Council, the Senate and the magic users of The Three Hammers were once again assembled and, with Bombli and Bombaros in the front, transporting the chest with the crystal, marched together towards Old Ironforge. This time, all safety precautions had been taken. The fate of Magni Bronzebeard could not be allowed to befall any other Dwarf. Hence, the best practitioners of every school of magic from every dwarven clan were gathered around the crystal-bearers, ready to lend magical aid in case it was needed.
Advisor Belgrum was standing next to Magni when they arrived. He had always blamed himself for encouraging the King to perform the ritual and could not bear history repeating itself.
“Don’t do it, Bombli. Ye don’t have tae. I’m responsible fer the King’s state. Let me do it instead!” he said.
“Nae, Belgrum. I have tae do this. I owe it tae my King an’ tae myself. Stop blaming yerself fer somethin’ that ain’t yer fault, fer it will destroy ye” Bombli replied.
Belgrum nodded reluctantly and stepped back.
Bombli then looked at Bombaros.
“Whatever happens, son, know that I love ye with all my heart.”
A tear came to Bombaros’s eyes. “I love ye too, father.” The two hugged. It could be their last moment together.
“It is time, Bombli”, Moira Thaurissan said.
“Aye” Bombli agreed. He opened the chest and held the crystal with both his hands. He raised it high and started walking towards Magni.
He had made just a few steps, when something terrible and totally unexpected happened. A Dark Iron mage was standing right behind him as he started walking, one of the magic users who had been set there for “safety reasons”. It all happened in the blink of an eye and nobody was fast enough to grasp it and act in time.
“Lord Ragnaros reigns supreme!” yelled the Dark Iron, then proceeded to stab Bombli in the back with a knife.
When Bombli felt the knife penetrate his breastplate, he lost grip on the crystal. Both he and the artifact fell down. Upon impact with the floor, the crystal was shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.
The guards instantly rushed forward to disarm the Dark Iron traitor and arrest him. They barely managed to keep themselves from killing him, beating him hard as he yelled about Ragnaros, Deathwing and the Hour of Twilight.
Bombaros and every single Dwarf with healing abilities started casting healing spells on Bombli. But the knife had struck him in the heart and he showed no more signs of life. It seemed that this was the end of Bombli Mountainfury.
“NOOO!!!” yelled Bombaros, so loudly that his voice was heard all over Ironforge. His eyes were burning with rage. He could not let his father die this way.
“Elements o’ the Mountain! Great Spirit of Life! Grant me one final strength, tae save my father!!!”
The earth beneath their feet rumbled. The lava of Old Ironforge and the Great Forge started boiling hotter. Black smoke filled the halls of Ironforge. The fury inside Bombaros was now, literally, the fury of the Mountain.
He placed his hands over his father’s chest in a final, desperate attempt to heal him. A blinding light came out of them.

And all of a sudden, Bombaros was somewhere else entirely. Everyone else, including his father, was gone. He immediately recognized the place. It was the corridor with the diamond walls from his vision. At the end of it, the real, living form of King Magni Bronzebeard could once again be seen.
He ran towards him. The corridor gave place to a huge hall, much like Old Ironforge, but its walls were made of pure diamond, with radiant light emanating from them.
“Ah, Bombaros, the son o’ Bombli. Ye have finally come” said King Magni.
“King Magni! Are ye really alive? Is this real?”
“I’m neither alive, ner dead. And it doesnae matter if it’s real or nae, shaman. Th’ important thing is that ye’re here.”
“Where am I? An’ what about my father?”
“Yer father will survive, Bombaros. He has fought demons an’ dragons, an’ lived. It ain’t his fate tae be killed by a Dark Iron backstabber. As fer this place… it is my prison.”
Bombaros was more than relieved to hear the good news about his father, but Magni’s answer about the place they were in surprised him.
“Yer prison? What dae ye mean, my King?”
“When I performed the ritual, I heard the voices o’ th’ earth inside my head. The same voices ye hear as a shaman. They were cryin’ out, Bombaros. They felt betrayed. Betrayed by Neltharion, an’ by all those who serve him. They were goin’ tae destroy Ironforge, an’ the rest o’ the world after it. Tae prevent that, I made a pact wi’ them.”
“A pact?” Bombaros couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Aye, a pact. They agreed tae spare Ironforge, but only if I became one wi’ the Mountain. It was a necessary sacrifice I had tae make. I knew my people would face difficult times in my absence… I knew there would be internal conflict in our Kingdom… but it was th’ only way.”
“I… I dunno what tae say, King Magni.”
“Say nothin’, young Mountainfury. Ye can return tae our people an’ tell them what ye heard here. Few will believe ye. But they need ye now, more than ever. Th’ Earth may have been calmed fer now… but Fire is coming tae Azeroth. An’ it will consume it, unless ye fight it back with all yer powers. Go now, Bombaros, with my blessing. Help yer comrades save our world. I will return tae ye when the time is right.”
“King Magni, wait! I have so many questions…”

And then Bombaros woke up. He was still in Old Ironforge. His father was lying in front of him. He saw him open his eyes, and he understood that he had saved him. Apparently, Bombaros hadn’t been out for more than a second, although he felt it was minutes. The earth had stopped rumbling and the fury of the Mountain had been soothed.
“Ye kinnae kill a Mountainfury that easily!” Bombli said, smiling.
“Ye 're a tough Dwarf, father, I’ll give ye that!” said Bombaros, and the two burst into laughter.
The crowd cheered, and it seemed as if they had completely forgotten about the destruction of the crystal from Ulduar. Bombaros told them everything he had seen and heard while he was unconscious but, as expected, most of them dismissed it as a figment of his imagination, caused by the intensity of the moment. Even he doubted it had been real. But, as King Magni had “told” him then, it was not important.
What was important, was the next move of the Mountainfury family. Where would Bombaros go? Would he return to the Maelstrom? Where would Bombli go? Would he return to the battlegrounds against the Horde? The answer presented itself soon enough. Night Elf ambassadors came to Ironforge, asking for aid against the minions of Ragnaros the Firelord, who had invaded Mount Hyjal and would burn down the World Tree, if left unchecked. They both knew that, according to Magni’s “words”, as well as their own personal judgement, Fire was the next big threat to Azeroth. Their choice had been made.
They were both going to Hyjal.

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Join date : 2010-04-26
Location : Greece

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