Ulduar

Many say that the Explorers' League recklessly excavates ancient ruins without any regard for the consequences, and they themselves are incapable of cleaning up their messes. I can't refute this view, but what happened in Ulduar has brought forth another threat comparable to the Lich King. Meryl warned me that the Old Gods are far more evil than Arthas.

After hours of trekking through the harsh, icy snow, the cool air inside the ancient ruins perched atop the mountain was a sweet blessing. Of course, every turn could harbor the threat of death, but it could also hold the promise of inevitable glory.

Brann Bronzebeard passed through a stone archway, dust billowing like ghosts and outlining a corridor with rounded patterns etched into the stone walls. Legend had it that the Titans ruins were impenetrable and impregnable, a path of certain death for any intruder.

They swore by the owners of these ruins that they remembered only the last sentence of the legend. Brann muttered to himself that no one in the Explorers' League wanted to witness these wonders with him.

They valued life more, but Brann did not.

Bronzebeard has now groped his way through the tunnels for miles, locating and avoiding several lightning traps, and crawling to dodge the rows of lightning balls overhead. This place, called Ulduar, is a tourist hotspot, but he has no intention of staying here long.

Many indifferent eyes on the stone wall were staring at Brann with ill intent.

In the cylindrical room at the end of the road, a smooth, exquisitely crafted Titans device lay silently on its pedestal. Brann was stunned. On the device was not a statue, nor an ancient stone tablet, but a creature. Brann recognized it as the Wind Serpent of Howling Fjord, but not alive; rather, it was a beautiful three-dimensional pattern formed by countless bright spots and points of light, as sacred as the starry sky. The Dwarf swore on their beards that even the ugliest creature, adorned in such a way, would become instantly captivating.

Brann, maintaining an expression of surprise and delight, took out paper and pen to record everything before him—this was the purpose of his trip. Many might dismiss grand and magnificent ancient legends as mere fantasies, but a precious artifact is undeniable proof. If he could find the legendary Titans treasure, he could definitively prove that a creator had once descended upon this world.

"Yes, the Creator!" Brann had a sudden inspiration. Why couldn't the "exhibit" in front of him be seen as the Creator giving life to a work of art, or as a blueprint for creating new life? Whatever it was, Brann had to write it down.

The Titans ruins are treasures coveted by archaeologists. Many believe they hold divine power that can grant them immortality, while some fallen nobles see them as the key to regaining power, and even devout pilgrims hope they will bring unimaginable wisdom and enlightenment.

Brann's only regret is that it was given a tremendous amount of expectation, but even if people spent their entire lives, they would not be able to explore all its mysteries.

After recording everything, Brann prepared to continue. There were stairs on both sides of the base, but the large door leading up to them was closed. Opening doors was always one of Brann's specialties, and he knew that according to design principles, opening a door would trigger a mechanism. This was the fundamental function of such architectural structures.

The Dwarf wiggled his fingers; now the real show was about to begin.

Brann slowly approached, the stone slab beneath his feet trembling. He immediately retreated to avoid triggering the mechanism. After several cautious attempts, he only chose the most stable slab as his footing. Just as his fingers finally touched the target, the surroundings began to tremble, and the door opened. A dazzling flash appeared before Brann's eyes. He did nothing; he didn't search for any possible buttons on the door, he simply touched it.

The situation seemed different from what Brann had expected, but when he saw the scene on the other side of the door, all his doubts and confusion vanished instantly. Compared to the long corridor he had walked through on this side, the other side was constructed in the layout of a hall, three times larger. In the center was a circular bottomless pit, with only some pipes visible leading underground, their destination unknown. Around the bottomless pit, besides passageways, were well-preserved statues; upon closer inspection, these statues guarded entrances leading to three different locations.

Brann nearly jumped up; this discovery was enough to shock the world. He was about to investigate when he suddenly realized there was no path leading to the hall. He was on a fan-shaped platform, separated from the hall by a bottomless abyss.

"Damn it, have we gone the wrong way?" The Dwarf, skeptical, inspected the platform, from the floor tiles to the handrails, hoping to find a device to Innervate something like an energy bridge.

A thunderous explosion shook the walls and echoed down the corridor. It seemed Ulduar was nearing his limit. Brann quickly stopped what he was doing, looking around frantically, wondering what had happened. Had he triggered another trap?

The commotion came from the abyss, and then, in Brann's sight, a massive creature gradually rose. It had no flesh or blood, but was a city of muscles. Its hair, nose, wrinkles, even the texture of its beard, were carved from some kind of mineral, and its clothing was made of metal. Its eyes glowed with a blue-white light, indistinguishable between flame and lightning.

Brann's eyes could only reach the neck of the statue. He had seen many such statues, but they were all motionless. This one, however, was alive, surpassing all his previous discoveries.

"Intruders!"

He can talk! Bronzebeard stunned, but he had no time. In everyone's eyes, he was an intruder, an enemy. Brann meant no harm and wasn't an enemy, but how could he tell him the truth? These days, language might be the most persuasive tool.

"No, no, no!" Brann shook his gloved hands. "I'm not an intruder. I'm Brann, the president of the Explorers' League. I'm just here to visit, and I promise I won't take anything away except my notes, which are mine anyway."

"According to the agreement!" the big guy continued, his voice almost shattering the Dwarf's eardrums. "Any flesh and blood must be eliminated, for Yogg-Saron."

"What!" Brann's surprise turned into anger. More than the inhumanity of the Titan-forged, he found it hard to believe the name mentioned in the previous words.

The Old Gods Yogg-Saron is here, and he controls this behemoth, and perhaps more.

"I have to leave!" Brann cautiously took a step back. "I have to tell the others." The Dwarf abruptly turned and began to run along the path he had come from. Brann had marked the way in with chalk, and now he followed those marks, weaving and dodging. Everything around him became unstable. The Dwarf slipped through crumbling archways, dodged tumbling boulders, and swiftly traversed the increasingly narrow passageways.

He kept running, but then he heard a cutting sound behind him and felt a burning sensation.

Oh no, it's a laser!

The massive creature didn't pursue, but its eyes emitted dazzling pulses of light as it relentlessly chased Brann. A crackling burst of energy caused a two-story-high boulder to plummet from above. In the emergency, Brann slid forward ten feet, narrowly avoiding being crushed to a pulp.

The passage behind him began to collapse, two stone pillars toppling towards the center before shattering into pieces. Brann rushed into another corner, the angle of which led directly to the ground.

A ray of sunlight shone ahead, Dwarf saw hope, continuing his charge. Freedom was within reach. A deafening thud shook the earth, and he stumbled as he ran. The steps he had just stepped on collapsed entirely. Once again, it proved that the leader of the Explorers' League was indeed very lucky.

He rolled smoothly to his feet, taking a deep breath of the sweet rainforest air. Brann didn't stop; his Gryphon, Gryphidin, had been waiting for a long time.

Behind its master, the entrance to Ulduar collapsed completely, spewing out a cloud of ancient dust.

"Fly fast, baby!" Brann shouted before he even gripped the reins.

The Dwarf, far from the ancient ruins, felt no sense of security and now he was going to seek help.

Who would help him? The Alliance and the Horde? They're currently locked in a fierce battle with the Scourge, and there's even an organization called the Forsaken emerging. The Argent Crusade might be able to, but Tirion Fordring probably wouldn't have the time to listen to his adventures in Ulduar.

"To Dalaran, girl!" Brann nudged the Gryphon. "Rhonin will help us!"