WoW Legends 1 - A Surprising Miracle

Okay so here's another of what I was working on while my WiFi was being really stupid with me. I give you a different kind of series where it may be possible for YOU to see each character from a friend be shown within the stories that will be shown here and watch the words perhaps come to life within your mind. Behold...the stories...of heroes.

Now before I get a warning, I'm going to make this VERY clear. This icon does not belong to me, this belongs to as it shows the classic logo with King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind (I do apologize in advance if you see this sir/ma'am as I have not been to your profile page and tried to find an icon) And now with that said, please be sure to give HIM/HER credit for the illustrious icon that you see. Enjoy.

Barry -

All WoW Content (Minus the icon)

"Oh? And who is this fine young person that enters the room now? Have you come here to maybe stay a while and listen? Have you come here to perhaps know of a long and forgotten tale? If so...you have come to the right place as I am your guide...your storyteller...your Lorewalker. In a way, I must pull out a scroll my own self to look over the very story so I may share it with you young one. What you may listen to may sound so unreal, it may be unbelievable at first...but seeing is believing. I will be right back with the first story I was ever told by my father."

There was indeed the sounds of grumbling as you look around and find a really comfy seat, soon seeing the so-called Lorewalker come forth with a slightly glowing scroll itself while having a small inked symbol on it- the mark of a blacksmith in fact. The Lorewalker looks at you and smiled quietly, her eyes twinkling in curiosity to know if you will stay or not, as she unfurls it all quietly and quickly.

"Now then..." she continues, "This is the legend of a rather powerful young man that was able to change the tides ever so quickly- in his favor as to where when the odds were against him...he would fight back with surprisingly bold tenacity to send his foes running away from him. Even when the light was at its darkest point, he never feared death...for he was Death himself...the capability to twist and siphon blood in one powerful strike or freeze and obliterate his foes in three unbelievably powerful swings. THIS...is the story of a rather odd...and peculiar......" she then looks to the scroll carefully, "...Alsatian...interesting name too as it's but a simple one at that. He was known as the Pillar of Ice for his unyielding strength when the cold came to aid him...and known as the Bloodied Juggernaut...his true name...was none other...than Bartholomew Mechalis. Our story begins...upon his awakening in a rude manner. Forcibly used by a powerful man who was once of the Light, one which turned to the dark succor power in which was given by a dark whisper, burying all that he loved and replaced it all with wrath and fear. It all begins when he was a young paladin in his endeavors to make his order proud, for you see...he was once a proud paladin that was the burning bright hope in which was an apprentice to a even more powerful Paladin - one that brought forth a new order when the Order of the Silver Hand had fallen. He was perhaps one of the most talented blacksmiths of his age, forging a pure blade of light, nornally impossible to make by any other without having faith- The Archangel. It was a blade not even Tirion had seen before as the craftmanship used a refined titanium core, a star ruby in both the hilt end and in the blade itself while using gold for the upper portion...and reforged iron for the blade's edge itself. For the first time in a long while Tirion gave a soft smile that Barry could see. He had made his mentor proud for the creation he had made not only as a blacksmith but as a paladin...but all stories must have their bad times. Young Bartholomew had been given a proud chance to fight within the Plaguelands for his final test to become a true Paladin. The End Result for poor Barry was being overtaken by the undead within Stratholme. But...what Tirion never imagined until he saw with his own eyes the matter of his young apprentice brought back to life...reborne into the grip of the Lich King himself and to live an eternal life of damnation by many others, including the many other heroes that fell in their high battles. Let's...bring it to his first greatest accomplishment in a long and forgotten memory. Turn back time and feel the mist bring you forth into slumber so you may dive into the story for you to witness yourself..."

You couldn't help but ponder what she means, until you give a soft whiff of a nearby incense candle, suddenly feeling drowsy and perhaps very tired. Once could describe this feeling when trying to delve into a realm known as the Emerald Dream- a place for all kinds of Druid that may slumber there and stay within  sleep until called upon to perform their task. Finally, you slowly give into the incense's powerful scent and then sleep away in the seat, followed by a gentle feeling of a blanket enveloping you- by the Lorewalker nonetheless.

Suddenly, your eyes shift awake as you could feel yourself, one of which that's never been in your presence nor heard of as it seemed like they were only a myth. You could feel yourself walking into a cold and dark place, down the hall as you could come across a base of operations. Small but it was truly things you yourself have never seen before. It was as if you were delving deeper and deeper into an enemy stronghold. You could then get a glimpse of the blade in question and eyes widened. The blade that Barry had created with his own hands- The Archangel. Its beauty was still burning bright and proud for its creator, even damned as he was. Voices around you were incoherent but practically spoke of you and your heroism and to put an end to the one of which that sat upon his throne. Every enemy that stood before you, none would stand in your way as they were mindless...horrid...damned. Every single foe that tried to take you down would have no chance. Not even the most powerful bosses could stand against you in which you watched from his unblinking, unwavering eyes himself. It was almost as if it were a true dream, witnessing the heroism this one had. Strange enough, he only spoke with a tone that showed no mercy upon the freezing hell and the halls themselves- to destroy such monstrosities that stood in his way. Finally...the memory stops fast forwarding itself in bursts and comes to a normal pace, the snow slowly falling around both you and him and who of which stood in the center of an area was none other than a man that saved your life ages ago. Both you and him approach the very one in which resurrected his cold and dead corpse in the beginning of his 2nd lifetime.

"Arthas..." The man speaks, pointing to the one on the throne, "...You've taken countless souls, ravaged Northrend, and created abominations that have been counted as horrid amalgamic beings. Today...that ends here."

The one known as Arthas slowly stands up as he grabs the runic blade by his side, slowly walking down the stairs, "So you've come here...shall I lay down my sword for you and beg for forgiveness...? And you..." He points to the one you were watching through his eyes, as the head turns to him and snarls quietly. From mere thought, you could tell he wasn't too happy to see the one who revived him. "...You were my greatest champion in bringing the Scarlet Crusade to their knees...now you've become my worst mistake for a Death Knight..." The words spoken from him were none too warm...spoken in hellish ice as if he was threatening to kill him, or...you at this point, again.

The fact the man stood by you was none too light. He was a man of revered renown and never to be taken lightly. "Enough talk..." He spoke, "Let us fight him down! Attack!!" But before he could charge at Arthas...he was frozen in place by that very corrupt man. The most powerful man then turns to you and then begins swinging his sword at you in which you had simply began parry his own attacks. It wasn't perfect at all, as it seemed like the one you watched over was beginning to have a hard time. Sending wave after wave of undead at you, It almost seemed like you were witnessing this one you had never heard of, yet see his powerful heroism taken down those that stood in your way...have a really difficult time in keeping track with his attacks. Just as he was beginning to get a little tired, you then see the one you watch kick Arthas back before beginning his own endless assault as things were supposedly turning bleak only a few moments ago, now turned tide against him. The undead that dared to attack you, all quickly perished in your strikes and unholy rage. It was really a miracle to see this happen before your very eyes, as you see the snowstorm worsen before your gaze. You then come across a clash against two swords, one of absolute power...and one of rising power. All that could be heard was the utter sensation of the cold beginning to chill even you your own self, wave after wave of cold coming upon you from Arthas himself! It was truly something scary to witness as you could then feel a deathly ill feeling in you, stupidly crazy as it sounds when you're just witnessing the fight your own self. The ground around you bubbles a sickly black toxin that begins to make you feel queasy along with the cold pounding on you in astounding waves. As you could feel like this, the one you watch...was rather indifferent to the cold and toxin below him.

"Hmph......you have become an instrument of Doom itself..." Arthas slowly speaks as he then sends you sliding back, close to the edge of the towering citadel you stood upon, down below being the infinite abyss of which was the frozen wastes. None could be said for the unfortunate sod who dared to face that height and survive. Nevertheless, Arthas holds his sword by two hands, blade facing down, as he thrusts it down. The blade reacts as it sends a powerful shockwave that didn't move him back, who was you at the time, but slowly bring you to your knees. You suddenly had the desperate feeling that quickly made you feel so weak in the knees- almost to where you could not stand up at all. You could barely muster the strength to even MOVE your sword itself, using it as a crutch to even weakly stand. The feeling of near death was all that may be said in exchange for your stupefied expression, witnessing the dream itself. All that you could hear was a small laugh from Arthas as he slowly loosens his sword from the ice and finally hoisting it free with ease. He looks to you and walked to you, feeling the certainty of beating you at long last.

"...It is only a shame you fought for the wrong cause..." He said with an unimpressed look, "You are one of the greatest that have come to me, only to come to your demise..." He lunged his sword upward, having the blade come to a perfect horizontal outlook, the sword slowly glowing with power unimaginable. It then begins to siphon your own life away as the one you watch grunts and groans, trying so hard to resist its power. "I delight in the irony of witnessing the champion you gave me...will now be mine Tirion...true Irony indeed..."

The only thing you could ever feel was an utterly powerful weakness even as you were perhaps dreaming all of this. You could only consider the questioning thought if this was the end or perhaps the beginning of a story...after all, you still remember what the Lorewalker said about this being his first and grand feat. Barely out of your vision's own sight though, you could see the icy tomb that had your friend Tirion begin to glow faintly at first. It continued to grow in brightness as you could barely hear a voice within his head, but allowing you to hear it as well. It belonged to him, in which was surprising.

'Light...grant me one final blessing...give me the strength...to bring down Arthas...'

The tomb was then slowly enveloped in light as an explosion was heard, releasing his friend. Bearing the blade of true light itself as a pair of angelic wings of light appear on his back. He then sees your sorry state and then charged at Arthas. But as he leaped, it wasn't towards his own life...but it was at his blade, breaking it profoundedly as it shatters into several pieces, breaking Arthas' concentration on turning you into one of his again and saving you at the same time. He then looks at Tirion and was staring at him, "...Impossible..." was all that he could say before being lifted by countless souls that the blade he once held in his grip, pour out and keep a really tight grip on him, bringing forth an unintended agony on himself, loosening a shout in pain to fight himself free of the souls that hold him in the air.

"No more lies Arthas!" Tirion shouts, "No more lives will be taken today!"

Arthas looks to him, "...So the Lambs have become the Predators as I become the prey...irony..." He states before a renowned figure, one which was ghostly, comes to reality as it faces Tiron.

"Free at last!" He said, "...You have given all who have been trapped in Frostmourne a chance to fight back..." He then looks to you as his hands glow bright with power, "RISE UP CHAMPION!! YOUR DAY OF RECKONING HAS COME!"

It was then that you feel an immense surge of power rush through you as you could see the one you watch stand up and hold his blade, feeling him tighten his grip on his blade, a sudden feeling of power surging through you. All that you can see is a blur as Arthas comes closer to your peripheral sight, leaping at him and lunging your blade right through his chest. The feeling of satisfaction slowly begin to appear as Arthas looks to you, the blue glow slowly dissipates as they were replaced with a pale pair of teal and emerald eyes. The sense of victory was rushing through you as you had just witnessed a powerful key figure be taken down by one Alsatian.

You then slowly awaken from your slumber, as you look outside. It had gone from night time to morning. It was truly odd that the Lorewalker you came to from last night wasn't there yet. You must have been dreaming one hell of a dream as you come across a set of scrolls that were in your handwriting with the same stamp be written. Did...this mean you really were there...? And did you record all...in your sleep? Strange as it was, you look to the Incense Candle as it had just finished burning away, the scent of the mist disappearing as you yourself finally sit up and yawn yourself awake. It was a strange and curious thing to behold yourself as you pick up the scrolls and set them on the seat you slept on. Upon hearing some chatter, you look out to see the same Lorewalker come back in the house you slept in, giving you a warm smile.

"It seems that you've awaken from your peaceful slumber." She states, "...Were you able to witness the legend before your very eyes...?"

You nod as you then look to the scrolls that mysteriously appeared from your sleep. The Lorewalker noticed and blinked, looking over the scrolls herself. She was perhaps astounded by her discovery as the scroll she had originally told you never had detail this specific. She smiled and then closes the first one of the three and looked to you with the same cheerful smile. "Not only did you fill the spaces missing for this story...but you've given an exact feeling of what you yourself have witnessed from your very own eyes! Not that many Lorewalkers themselves may know of such incredible detail, let alone keep everything as it was without a doubt from him or herself...I must ask if you may come back again another day. I will need to sort through the scrolls of legend that my father seemed to clutter with other scrolls. If you'd like to, you can stick around and enjoy that which you have created."

You couldn't help but feel proud in what you have done even without even knowing your own self. Truly, you swear this may be the beginning of your own legend. Only time will tell on its own. For now...enjoy your stay high above in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, above the Mogashun Palace entrance, and safe from any trouble. Your journey begins.