05-13-2007, 11:01 AM
For those of the guild old enough to remember there once was a Shaman of great might and lore. Many might not know her name but there are some who still remember. Her deeds were a legend, but legends fade to myth and eventually fade altogether. However it is my sad duty to tell the tale of the last moments of the Mighty Akora, so they might not fade away so quickly.
The aspects about me are unimportant, but I found myself alone in the lord of the mountainâs lair itself, in the heart of Ragnarosâs sanctuary in the Molten Core. It is not important how this foolish thief lived to tell this tale. I was searching for but a bauble of the Fire Kingâs stash, but what I uncovered was a tale befitting of legends. Hiding behind some charred rocks I witnessed a monumental battle.
I saw a flash of fiery hot lava shoot skyward. Then I witnessed a fantastical and horrifying site. This âlavaâ materialized into a form resembling a giant torso, well built and strong. It was larger than any of the torsoâs of the mighty giants of Azeroth. A mighty flaming hammer, larger than the trees of Felwood was formed of flames. A giantâs head hewn in flame appeared, and bellowed out these words. âMortal, who dares, ALONE (as his voice inflected) enter my lairâ echoed across the vaulted halls.
I looked around and saw no one, fearing the Fire King knew of my hiding place, recounting these as my last moments, I was frozen in fear, in a place hotter than hell. But the Fire Kingâs gaze did not fall upon me, but upon a small horned shadow approaching alone from the lairâs entrance.
As the two foes approached, they had a how can I say, a certain âknowledgeâ of each other. âAkoraâ the Fire King said. As Shaman came forth from the shadows and presented herself to the Fire King. His voice had a certain âsadnessâ to it when he muttered her name, which I could not understand.
But the Shaman did not rattle âThis is the journeyâs endâ Akora steadily replied. âThe Earthmother is with me. I am here for the battle you promised.â Ragnaros, nodded, respectfully to Akora and replied, âI shall grant you this battle old friend, let it begin!â Ragnaros let forth a howl that rang through the silence like hideous laughter.
One towered above the other, with a fiery torso hewn and hardened by lava and hate. The other, only a fraction of the size of the Fire Lord, sinewy, with horns and nostrils flaring. The two forces stalked each other. The Tauren as she approached Ragnaros, turned quickly and looked seemingly right at the rock I was hiding behind, but just as quickly she focused back on her foe.
Until now, in a manner in which I thought I could not fathom â I dreamed that I had mistaken what I had seen. But the battle is as real as I am here today to retell it. I will recount the battle as best as I am able.
The battle began with searing flames shooting forth from the Fire King, but Akora nimbly jumped aside. Then I saw totems flaring all around the Shaman. I witnessed a blur of motion as she shot across the moat of lava toward Ragnaros. The Fire King let forth a clamoring shriek of pain, and lurched his mighty hammer forward toward his foe. But he was a second too late as the Tauren slipped aside. Icicles of frost hit his torso as he destroyed the totems.
Then I saw the Shaman appear on the Fire Kingâs mighty arm, wildly flailing away with her weapon. A heard another shriek of pain from Ragnaros, as he faltered a bit, his mighty stature swaying like a tree.
Then I head a yelp not from the Fire King but from Akora. Ragnaros rattled the Shaman with a mighty fire bolt. But she gathered herself and produced a healing light, and continued to battle. I knew her wound was grave, but she battled onward, hewing off one of Ragnarosâs mighty arms. Ragnaros let forth a great moan. This blow crippled the Fire King, and he started to diminish back into his hollow of lava. This tumbling force was so great Shaman was bound to it, falling downward with the Fire King.
The last glimpses I saw was of Akora clinging to the Fire Kingâs great hammer still doing battle until, I could see no more as the scorching flames consumed her.
I stayed hidden for many moments trying to comprehend the immense battle I alone witnessed. I waited expecting a victor to arise from the lava to lay claim to his prize. But none came. The two combatants shall remain entombed in that fiery grave under the mountain of flame that is the Molten Core.
Since the battle, I can not bring myself to return to the Molten Core. But I had heard tales of the legend of the mighty Akora, and her deeds under the fiery mountain. And as the last witness to her life, Iâd like to think that she was one with the Molten Core, almost as much as Ragnaros was and that it was her wish for her end to be under the mountain that she helped build.
The aspects about me are unimportant, but I found myself alone in the lord of the mountainâs lair itself, in the heart of Ragnarosâs sanctuary in the Molten Core. It is not important how this foolish thief lived to tell this tale. I was searching for but a bauble of the Fire Kingâs stash, but what I uncovered was a tale befitting of legends. Hiding behind some charred rocks I witnessed a monumental battle.
I saw a flash of fiery hot lava shoot skyward. Then I witnessed a fantastical and horrifying site. This âlavaâ materialized into a form resembling a giant torso, well built and strong. It was larger than any of the torsoâs of the mighty giants of Azeroth. A mighty flaming hammer, larger than the trees of Felwood was formed of flames. A giantâs head hewn in flame appeared, and bellowed out these words. âMortal, who dares, ALONE (as his voice inflected) enter my lairâ echoed across the vaulted halls.
I looked around and saw no one, fearing the Fire King knew of my hiding place, recounting these as my last moments, I was frozen in fear, in a place hotter than hell. But the Fire Kingâs gaze did not fall upon me, but upon a small horned shadow approaching alone from the lairâs entrance.
As the two foes approached, they had a how can I say, a certain âknowledgeâ of each other. âAkoraâ the Fire King said. As Shaman came forth from the shadows and presented herself to the Fire King. His voice had a certain âsadnessâ to it when he muttered her name, which I could not understand.
But the Shaman did not rattle âThis is the journeyâs endâ Akora steadily replied. âThe Earthmother is with me. I am here for the battle you promised.â Ragnaros, nodded, respectfully to Akora and replied, âI shall grant you this battle old friend, let it begin!â Ragnaros let forth a howl that rang through the silence like hideous laughter.
One towered above the other, with a fiery torso hewn and hardened by lava and hate. The other, only a fraction of the size of the Fire Lord, sinewy, with horns and nostrils flaring. The two forces stalked each other. The Tauren as she approached Ragnaros, turned quickly and looked seemingly right at the rock I was hiding behind, but just as quickly she focused back on her foe.
Until now, in a manner in which I thought I could not fathom â I dreamed that I had mistaken what I had seen. But the battle is as real as I am here today to retell it. I will recount the battle as best as I am able.
The battle began with searing flames shooting forth from the Fire King, but Akora nimbly jumped aside. Then I saw totems flaring all around the Shaman. I witnessed a blur of motion as she shot across the moat of lava toward Ragnaros. The Fire King let forth a clamoring shriek of pain, and lurched his mighty hammer forward toward his foe. But he was a second too late as the Tauren slipped aside. Icicles of frost hit his torso as he destroyed the totems.
Then I saw the Shaman appear on the Fire Kingâs mighty arm, wildly flailing away with her weapon. A heard another shriek of pain from Ragnaros, as he faltered a bit, his mighty stature swaying like a tree.
Then I head a yelp not from the Fire King but from Akora. Ragnaros rattled the Shaman with a mighty fire bolt. But she gathered herself and produced a healing light, and continued to battle. I knew her wound was grave, but she battled onward, hewing off one of Ragnarosâs mighty arms. Ragnaros let forth a great moan. This blow crippled the Fire King, and he started to diminish back into his hollow of lava. This tumbling force was so great Shaman was bound to it, falling downward with the Fire King.
The last glimpses I saw was of Akora clinging to the Fire Kingâs great hammer still doing battle until, I could see no more as the scorching flames consumed her.
I stayed hidden for many moments trying to comprehend the immense battle I alone witnessed. I waited expecting a victor to arise from the lava to lay claim to his prize. But none came. The two combatants shall remain entombed in that fiery grave under the mountain of flame that is the Molten Core.
Since the battle, I can not bring myself to return to the Molten Core. But I had heard tales of the legend of the mighty Akora, and her deeds under the fiery mountain. And as the last witness to her life, Iâd like to think that she was one with the Molten Core, almost as much as Ragnaros was and that it was her wish for her end to be under the mountain that she helped build.
