A new face, A new fear

The sky was grey with a hint of darkness, with stars beginning to spark into sight. Snow began to fall to the frozen ground of The Storm Peaks; only adding to what already was a white blanket over the land. Screeching of crows and other flying creatures echoed throughout the desolate wastes, penetrating the silent winds.

“Bloody ‘ell, we’ve been searchin’ fer days! Not even a Gnome would bother venturin’ this deep even if it ‘eld the key tae the spark o’ imagination!”

“Shut your whining all the time Rudoran! We’ve been travelling too far to just give up now; what would we say to Brann if we just packed our bags and left?”

The crunching footsteps of the party flattened a trail embedded in snow that could be seen from a mile away, all the while the two Dwarves continually talked back at each other.

“An’ I suppose you know exactly where these fabled Relics are too, Thalgun?”

“By me Grandfathers beard.....What was the point in joining this expedition if ye were just going to bitch about until we gave up?”

“Me idea of a’ adventure ain’t walkin’ around in tha’ snow fer days on e-“

Thalgun, raising his hand swiftly whispered to the Dwarf, “Shut your mouth! Look...” pointing at a group of Iron Dwarves carrying a small sealed chest.

Still whispering, Thalgun motioned the Dwarves into position, “That’s our relic! Ready your guns lads n’ lasses!”
The first shot was fired. A ricochet of the bullet flying off the chest, the Iron Dwarves turned to see the party of Dwarves. “Damn it! Fire...FIRE!” A group of gun shots went off, raining down on the Iron Dwarves, slowly dropping in the snow; only one remained, staring at the party.

Rudoran cackled “This lad ‘as got brains of a Dark Iron!” before charging at the Iron Dwarf with a miner pick, shouting “Fer Khaz Modan!”

“WAIT RUDO!”

Looking back at Thalgun, Rudoran turned around to see static charging around the Iron Dwarf, realising it was too late to avoid his inevitable death. Instead, he kept charging, throwing his pick at the Iron Dwarf before the electrical current, now bright enough to be spotted through the foggy clouds high above, struck Rudoran, frying him as he collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from his charred corpse.

The Iron Dwarf laid dead on the floor as well; a mining pick clean through his eye. Thalgun and the other Dwarves ran to retrieve Rudoran’s body, but the corpse was the heat of five forges, already beginning to turn into ash, “Oh lad, why’d you have to be so reckless.....” Unable to take the Dwarf’s body back, the Dwarves swiftly buried him in the snow, before taking the chest and heading back in the direction of the camp, Thalgun quickly uttering to the rest of the Dwarves “We better move quickly...” knowing soon someone, or something would come across the scene.

A few days earlier

“C’mon you pansies, push it like you mean it.....PUSH! PUSH!”

The sound of grinding stone against stone echoed throughout the empty halls, clattering of footsteps and mumbling between Dwarves following the sound.

The assiduous voice sounded again, “We’ve got....twenty minutes before they get here....push like Dwarves, not Elves!”

Panting and groaning could be heard under several of the Dwarves breaths; some even collapsing due to the strain as they pushed the brazen stone chest the size of five ogres and the weight of Thorim’s hammer across the rune encrusted floor. The surrounding halls radiated even in the dark night, constellations brightening the Dwarves path.

“Alright. That’s good enough, Brann should be here any minute now...” the Dwarf sniffed the air before looking towards the exhausted Dwarves, “And move away from the chest, your stinking up the place!”

The Dwarves cracked open their flasks, drinking blissfully in the silent halls, muttering among one another, some talking about their favourite brew, a few discussing Titan lore and others reminiscing about Ironforge. But these conversations were short, what was on their minds in truth were the unexplainable rumbles they could feel frequently while travelling through Northrend. Word had spread that back in the Eastern Kingdoms, and even so in Kalimdor, that earthquakes could be felt in every area. The earthquakes baffled the Kirin Tor, stumped the Dragon Aspects as well as bewildered the leaders of Alliance and Horde alike; all across Azeroth there was a synchronised confusion as to what was causing these earthquakes.

One Dwarf could be heard over the others; “I ‘eard that Brann may find a clue about ‘em within Ulduar, something about Relics or Tablets.”

Another Dwarf shouted “That be jus’ a rumour, gnomish whispers gone aroun’ camp!”

“These rumbles an’ shakes keep gettin’ worse every day, we should be gettin’ answers faster!” a younger Dwarf spat, clearly worried and annoyed at once; “I say we march to the Archivum and demand some answers!”

The halls began to resound with arguments between the Dwarves, becoming more emphatic with every voice.

The clink of a trigger, followed by the piercing sound of a rifle silenced the halls, the last voices echoing as the Dwarves fell still. The Dwarves stayed quiet, looking at the one holding the Rifle; the Dwarf looked older than most of the young Explorer’s, but still maintained a healthy brown hair colour; his beard was lengthy and wide, a decent beard for a Dwarf, while his hair was short, mainly covered by his hat. He was dark skinned and possessed a strong build, strong enough to wear plated mail but his key attribute was his intelligence, he spoke clearly compared to most Dwarves, and while Dwarven at heart, he would prefer a healthy debate compared to a drunken brawl; he was courteous to those around him but had the qualities of a strategic leader who was respected by his peers.

He slowly walked towards the mountainous chest, biding his time with each footstep. Walking towards the young Dwarf, showing a hint of hostility, he stated:

“No one talks to the Archivum, unless Brann says they can talk to the Archivum, is that understood?”

The young Dwarf looked into the other’s eyes, noticing a temper and irritation strong enough that he could even smell, simply nodded, whimpering an “Aye...” before lowering his head slightly.

The Dwarf turned around to the group of Explorers, “Anyone else care to start a confused mob of distressed Dwarves while we’re here? Anyone else care to persevere answers from the Archivum?” demanding a response.

All of the Dwarves looked to the ground, only a few muttering “N-nay...”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you all, SPEAK UP!”

The crowd of Dwarves looked towards the other Dwarf respectfully, roaring a loud, synchronised “Nay Thalgun!”
Thalgun nodded, uttering “That’s what I thought.” before shortly turning to the young Dwarf, looking at him with a hint of bewilderment “I haven’t seen you before lad, and I know just about everyone here, what’s your name?” The crowd of Dwarves gradually returned to talking amongst themselves, creating an increasing amount of noise; the young Dwarf lowered his head, answering “Rudoran sir, Rudoran Fusebeard.”

“Where you from?”

“I-Ironforge sir, I’m part of the Rifle Squad there, although I haven’t been in contact with them for months...”

Thalgun dipped his head back swiftly, keeping his eyes on Rudoran, noting his mention of a ‘Rifle Squad’ before questioning him again, “Fusebeard? I’ve heard of that name before, any relations?”

Rudoran’s head shot straight up, looking Thalgun in the face “My brother...sir, ‘e was part of the expedition in the Grizzly Hills, haven’t ‘eard of ‘im since though.” Simply lowering his head back to its previous location.

Thalgun turned his gaze towards the constellations within the halls, sighing “I personally haven’t heard from the encampment near Grizzly Hills, but I’m an optimistic, I don’t believe in a bad scenario; I’m in no doubt your brother is fine, he’s with some good, smart Dwarves.”

Rudoran smiled slightly, opening his mouth to utter something, but was cut off by a rumble within the halls; but this rumble was monstrous compared to the previous ones felt in Northrend; the room began to shake vigorously, dust falling from the ceiling and even small cracks forming on the edges of the pillars. Dwarves began to lose their balance, some falling to the floor and others smacking against the walls as the sound of smashing lanterns and flasks falling to the floor added to the rumbling. Soon the rumbling began to cease, allowing the Dwarves to regain their balance, recovering along with making sure no one was injured.

Thalgun pushed against a pillar he fell towards, looking down to see its base fractured; moving away from the pillar, he noticed the sound cracking before turning back towards the pillar to see it slowly fall backwards, crashing against the floor with sheer might causing the collapsing sound to resonate throughout the halls, breaking into multiple fragments as dust rose until the destruction cleared.

“Is anyone injured!? Was the chest damaged!?” Thalgun panicked, looking at the state of the Dwarves.

“We’re fine Thalgun, jus’ some bruisin’, although these halls may o’ seen better days...”

Thalgun asked again in a panicked state still “And the chest? Is it smashed, cracked, damaged?”

The Dwarf replied in a humorous manner, “Nay...the chest is fine; Golganneth ‘imself would struggle to put a dent in it.”

“I hope for your sake you’re right, if the chest is harmed in anyway, we may not know what is causing these earthquakes. Yes, you are all right, Brann has found a possible answer within the remnants of Ulduar, and has already questioned the Archivum. This chest may contain more items that can help understand these issues, but there are smaller chests in the Peaks that may have answers as well; before we can head back home, we must gather as many Relics of the Titans as we can for Brann to analyse. Once Brann arrives, we will split into groups and head out to gather what we can. And under no circumstances is anyone to query the Tribunal of Ages or Archivum without Brann’s expressed permission.”

Dwarves.

*Edit* = Win :>