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Adventures of Illuminatus: Blackrock Foundry	By : RotSeele Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story. The characters herein belong to myself and my guild mates.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Blackhand
Written to Message in a Bottle by The Police
Once back up on the main floor of the Foundry, the group first noticed that there was now a bridge spanning the center of the room whereas before, there hadn’t been a bridge. They crossed it slowly, carefully, and entered a long hallway. There were protrusions in the hall, which made them very wary. There was also a female orc, Forgemistress Flamehand, standing in the hall, watching the fighters of Illuminatus approach her. Her lips split in a wide grin before she charged at Xandyr, startling the paladin into raising his shield to deflect her attack. Before she could withdraw to attack again, she came under assault from spell and sword. There was a strange hissing sound that filled the hallway, and suddenly the protrusions were spitting out flame, cutting off the paths of escape and threatening to cook the fighters in their armor. They managed to avoid the worst of it, with Xandyr and Greymoon forcing Flamehand to follow them to clear spaces. She didn’t survive for too long, and with her death, the fires from the flame jets went out.
Slowly, the fighters trickled through the hallway to the elevator at the end. Once on it, the elevator took them up, up, up until they entered a circular room with no visible exit or entrance save for where they stood. And there, pacing the floor, was Blackhand.
“So how do we do this fight?” Sabaak asked, looking to Xandyr and Schio. Everyone turned their attention to the two blood elves, taking the moment to breathe and take care of themselves while the two explained how they would move on from here.
“First phase is pretty easy,” Schio started. “Ideally, we attack him and avoid the bombs he throws out because stepping on one detonates the others, and they hurt. A lot. He’s also going to throw shit at us, and two of us are going to get targeted by an ability called Marked for Death. If you have this, you have to move to a large debris pile to make sure his Impaling Throw doesn’t kill you. You also have to make sure that no one is between you and said Impaling Throw. The debris pile shows up when he uses his Demolition ability, which causes stuff to fall from above. Try and avoid it all, and keep an eye out for the large orange swirls, because those indicate where a large debris pile will be. We also have to watch out for Molten Slag, which will come in from the edges of the room and slowly creep forward until we push him or we die.”
“When he gets beat up enough,” Xandyr continued, “he’s going to break the floor with an Exploding Iron Star. It does heavy damage to us, so we’ll have to be prepared for that. We’re also going to fall into the room below. There, we’re not only going to have to fight Blackhand, but we’re going to have to fight the Siegemaker he calls, as well as some additional warriors that’ll be on the top ring above us. The Siegemaker will fixate on one of us, whoever’s closest to it, and will chase that person around until it’s destroyed or its target dies. Try to stay ahead of it, because it’ll damage you with its battering ram if you get to close to its front. Because they’re protected by blackiron plating, you can use a slag bomb or Blackhand’s Impaling Throw to break that plating, making the Siegemaker easier to kill. This means that the people who are targeted by Marked for Death need to run behind a Siegemaker.”
“As for the warriors that’ll be above us, they’re going to throw something called an explosive round on us, which we need to avoid. It’s kinda like an area of effect thing.” Schio tapped her dungeon journal. “At the same time, Blackhand’s gonna use something called Shattering Smash on the tank. Anyone in it will be knocked up into the air and land on the balcony. Your job then is to just kill whatever’s up there. You’ll be affected by something called Incendiary Shot, and if your stacks get too high, you need to jump off. Rinse repeat.” She turned the page, frowning slightly. “Last phase will come when he’s pretty close to death. He’s gonna break the floor again and we’re going to fall down to the Iron Crucible. This is going to be kind of the hardest part because we’re going to have to deal with unavoidable fire damage. He’s also going to get powered up.”
“Since there’s nowhere for us to hide from Impaling Throw, we’re going to have to make sure no one is in the way.” Xandyr said. “So position yourselves close to him so you aren’t knocked off the platform. We can use certain abilities to make you immune to it, so you shouldn’t be affected, but just in case. He’s also gonna put bombs on two of us, plus the tank currently holding his attention. You’ve got about five seconds to get away from everyone else before the bomb explodes. So our job, Grey, will be to tank him around the edge of the arena, so that the slag holes and slag craters are around the outer edge of the platform. Everyone should be stacked nice and close to us and him, so we can move quickly to safe positions and those with bombs can move quickly to a clear space to drop them.”
“The last thing we all have to worry about is Massive Shattering Smash.” Schio said. “With that, we have to make sure we don’t get knocked off the platform, and after, we need to quickly stack up again. And that’s basically the whole of it.”
“Seems complicated.” Kalahandra said.
“It’s a long explanation, but once we get into it, we should be all right.” Xandyr replied.
“When should we use lust?” asked Goshen.
“In the very last phase.” Schio said. “Believe me, we’re going to need it then.”
“All right.” said Xandyr. “Are we ready to give this a shot?”
There were looks of uncertain determination, but everyone standing there gave their signal to continue on. They knew what this final encounter meant. They would fight - risking death - to bring down Blackhand and stop the Iron Horde from completing any of its plans. It would also clear their way to the next challenge they would face, and it would make them stronger for it. Hands gripped hilts, lips prepared spells of destruction and healing.
Xandyr looked to Greymoon and nodded. Greymoon nodded back.
Greymoon charged forward, attacking Blackhand before the orc realized he was under attack. As the bear latched onto the armored orc, the melee joined him while the ranged took up positions within the center of the room. Spells flew as fast as swords were swung, and the smell of fire and ash and burning metal filled the air as the room filled with noise of metal striking metal, grunts and snarls, and curses.
“Bombs!” Schio yelled, drawing attention to the bombs that were suddenly scattered around the melee. They scattered away from the bombs, doing their best not to touch one and therefore set it off. At the same time, or nearly seconds after - everything was happening too fast for her to tell - Schio was again yelling for everyone to look out as Blackhand began to make debris fall from above.
Faintly, through the din of all the noise, Kalahandra’s voice could be heard. The restoration druid snapped out names and orders for those people as she began to move to avoid the falling debris, her three-fingered hands glowing with green as she fought to keep her teammates alive.
“Here comes Marked for Death!” Schio yelled, quickly following her statement by calling two names. Those people had a few spare seconds to panic before they bolted behind the debris pile closest to them - which, unfortunately, wasn’t the same one, but at least they were protected by the Impaling Throw that Blackhand threw at them.
Blackhand roared out in fiery anger, “You hide like children!”
That stung the pride a little bit, and spells and sword swings began to come harder and harder, even though the casters and melee were constantly moving in order to keep up with Greymoon and Xandyr as they did what they could to avoid bombs, debris, and unnecessary damage.
The group went through another set of demolitions before Blackhand gave a loud bellow and charged into the center of the room. Whatever he said was lost amid the cacophony of the floor suddenly collapsing beneath their feet. Wind whistled in their ears as they plummeted, hearts in their throats, eyes staring at the ground that was fast approaching them.
Somehow, they all survived the landing, and after a spare second to get their wits back about them, the casters and melee of Illuminatus charged at Blackhand again. Now it seemed to become even more chaotic, for as the bombs came out, Greymoon and Xandyr had to position themselves just so, so that when Blackhand raised his weapon to crush them and whichever melee was standing with them, they could both avoid the attack and use it to fly up into the stands behind them.
A quick glance above showed that the stands above their heads were quickly filling with orcs, and those orcs were throwing things down onto those below. Riotstrasza grit her teeth as she shielded her allies who were with her, and the discipline priest cast a quick glance below at her fellow healers, who had their own troubles to deal with.
A siegemaker rolled out of a gate, and began to chase Badlanguage around the arena floor. The hunter did her best to kite the siegemaker over the scattered bombs, all the while attacking Blackhand. It was chancy and chaotic at best, because those below were constantly forced to move, either to avoid the siegemaker, Blackhand’s attacks, or each other.
And over the din of everything was Schio’s voice, yelling out names of those who had Marked for Death, ordering them to hide behind the siegemaker to keep from being hurt - or killed - by Impaling Throw.
“Switch!” Schio yelled, activating her Havoc ability before casting a series of chaos bolts, only one of which splitting to hit both Blackhand and the siegemaker. “Get the siegemaker down! We don’t want it casting Mortar!”
Unfortunately, they weren’t fast enough. Just before the siegemaker broke apart, it managed to launch a fireball that became a pool of fire on the floor. Now, though, the ranged and the few melee left behind on the ground floor knew what they had to do. The second siegemaker was brought down far faster than the first, forcing the last two people who were targeted with Marked for Death to soak the Impaling Throw aimed at them. By the time the third siegemaker was making its appearance, Xandyr was yelling, “Ignore it! Bring him down!”
“Don’t ignore the Marked for Deaths, though!” Schio snapped, following her own orders a second later.
Even as she moved, the floor beneath her feet gave a moan, and then it began to splinter. Just like with the floor above, this one gave way, spilling them all down into the Crucible. The first thing that hit them was the heat of the molten earth, the slag, and the second thing that hit them was that this was the final stage of their fight. If they lost here, everything was over. Everything they had worked so hard to accomplish up to this point would be meaningless. Everything that was dear to them would be lost, forfeit, because they couldn’t make this last stand. It was a situation they were all intimately familiar with, but it was still a situation that elicited the basest feeling in them, the feeling of the need to survive.
They hit the ground and within the first seconds of landing they were already moving. The power of the blood lust filled them, and the spells cast hit Blackhand before the first blade touched his armor, tearing a rent through it. Greymoon and Xandyr pulled Blackhand back toward the edge of the arena, giving the rest of their group the room needed to maneuver. Those affected with the bombs ran to the left, as close to the edge as they could without needing to fear being blasted off, while those affected by Marked for Death ran to their respective sides, doing what they could to not get anyone else hit by the Impaling Throw. The entire time, with sweat and blood rolling down their faces and staining their clothes and fur, the team of Illuminatus continued to fight.
They moved as the arena began to fill up with slag, limiting their space on the floor. All the careful planning and discussion went right out the window now, as everyone fought to survive just a minute longer, to fire off that last arrow or spell, to give that final heave of muscled shoulders and drive that sword or dagger into armor and, hopefully, into the vulnerable flesh beneath. Hearts were pounding, adrenaline running high, but their focus remained clear on Blackhand as the casters and melee took chunks out of Blackhand, whether it was flesh or armor.
Blackhand took a step and faltered. His knees finally failed to support him. Being closer to him than the ranged, the melee saw this weakness and seized upon it. Griddlecake and Digitz struck for Blackhand’s hamstrings and Achilles tendons, their daggers sparking on armor plating. Martyrdom, Thanatoss, Judgement, and Erethor aimed their blades for Blackhand’s middle or chest, larger targets that would give them a sure hit. Goshen sought the power of the elements, and the enhancement shaman filled his axes with their power, trying to tear away the armor that Blackhand was wearing, allowing the rest of the melee to get at the vulnerable skin and flesh beneath.
Spells and arrows howled in, and hunter pets with bloody fangs and claws stuck to Blackhand’s backside, fighting with the same fury their masters had. Warlock demons laughed as they hacked at Blackhand, their fiery eyes focused on him with murderous glee. Blackhand faltered again, and just for an instant, his weapon lowered enough that Greymoon and Xandyr were able to get within his guard and deliver a killing strike. Blood spurted in wide arcs as Blackhand swung his hammer wildly, trying to force those fighting against him back. It was too late, though. Far, far too late for him.
Blackhand’s eyes burned as he glared hatred at the warriors of Illuminatus. He crumpled to his knees, then finally collapsed in a heap of blood, molten slag, and ruined armor. The final spells and arrows slammed into his corpse at the same time swords, daggers, and axes found their last targets, denting metal and cutting unfeeling flesh.
It almost didn’t seem real.
Slowly, they withdrew from Blackhand, standing in a semi-circle around the body. They were sore, bloody, sweaty - alive.
As they got their breathing back under control, and loosened their holds on the hilts of their weapons, the fighters of Illuminatus looked around at each other. Smiles and laughter soon filled the room, exalting in their victory over the threat to their home and friends.
“So, uh,” began Broniichan. “How do we get out of here?”
“You could always jump.” Riotstrasza said sweetly.
“Nuh-uh, no way, no thank you.”
“Then it looks like you’ll have to hearth.”
“Seems kind of sad that we have to separate just to get out of here.” Julip mentioned quietly.
Xandyr shrugged. “Even if we do, we’ll be together again soon enough. Don’t forget, we still have more to do after this.”
One by one, the fighters of Illuminatus winked out of existence there in the Crucible, leaving behind the proof that they had taken out one of their most dangerous enemies. They knew, though, that their struggle was far from over. Their attention now turned to Tanaan Jungle, the place where they had first entered Draenor and the place they had fled from, and they all wondered what was awaiting them there.
- 9
- 10
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Adventures of Illuminatus: Blackrock Foundry