Night of the Dragon

as Rask could throw such a large ax with accuracy.

It was time to die, Rom knew. The ghosts of Gimmel and the others who had perished in and around Grim Batol gathered in preparation of his joining their ranks.

But Rom struggled to his knees, keeping as silent as he could. Wavering, he moved behind Rask, who was aiming not at Iridi, but an unsuspecting Rhonin. There was no doubt in the dwarf's mind that the drakonid would deliver unto the unsuspecting wizard a fatal blow despite the distance.

Rom sought for the dwyar'hun, but Rask had apparently discarded the weapon right after firing the one shot. He left the wounded warrior with only one chance.

Rom threw himself under the much taller drakonid's arm, shoving Rask's arm upward. At the same time, he twisted the creature's wrist, trying to drive the sharp blade into Rask's head.

But although still strong by human standards, Rom was too weak to achieve his desperate goal. The ax head instead turned toward Rask's jaw, slicing it open.

With a hiss of rage and pain, the scaly guard shoved him away. Blood dripping from his mouth, the drakonid swung the ax at Rom. However, the swing was an awkward one, the flat instead striking against the dwarf's helmet.

Rolling away, Rom located his own ax just as Rask staggered over him. The drakonid's breathing was ragged, but he was far from slowed. He adjusted his grip on his weapon and came at the dwarf.

With a mighty roar, Rom raised his ax.

The drakonid's reach was greater than his. With a grunt, Rask chopped at the fallen warrior, the blade cutting deep into the dwarf's chest.

The dwarf cried out, aware the blow was a fatal one. Yet, instead of giving in to his death, Rom used the incredible pain toadd to the force of his own swing. With the skills of one who stood among the elite of Bronzebeard's warriors, he guided the ax expertly past Rask's guard. And with his remaining strength, severed the drakonid's head from his body.

As Rask's body tumbled to the side, Rom collapsed near the head, which even in death still wore a snarl. The roars of the fighting dragons nearly shattered the dying dwarf's ear drums. He heard a crack from above and knew that a section of the ceiling had broken loose, but was not concerned. By the time the collapse would reach him, Rom would be beyond any pain.

He suddenly noticed figures standing around him. Gimmel, his comrade from the war, stood among them, offering Rom a pipe.

The ghosts of those other dwarves whom Grim Batol had claimed welcomed into their ranks their old comrade and vanished to the great halls of the afterlife...

The two titans clashed again and again, using their spells to toss one another about the cavern. Dargonax paid no mind to the tiny creatures around them, but Zzeraku did. He saw the dwarves and the wizard and, most of all, the draenei—Iridi, he knew through their contact—struggling not only to survive, but to defeat the evil in this place, an evil akin in many ways to what he had once embraced but was now utterly revolted by.

Whereas Zzeraku had been brought here by force, they had come willingly to this place, come willing to sacrifice themselves. Zzeraku struggled to understand that willingness even as he battled Dargonax. They fought for something that meant more than their lives, something that would help others more than themselves....

That knowledge made him all the more ashamed at what he had been in the past... a twin in spirit of the grotesquerie against which he now struggled.

No! I will not be like him! She found me of worth! I will not be as this one... I will not be!

And although he sensed just how powerful Dargonax truly was and just how much chance he really had against him, Zzeraku knew that, if only for Iridi, he would fight to the end... whichever end fate decreed.

For her...

Most of the dwarves had fled and Rhonin had managed to indicate to the raptors that they should follow. Only a few skardyn remained, but they were a threat easily contained by the wizard, who gathered them up with a single spell, then threw the lot into one of the farthest crevices. Whether they survived or not was of no interest to the wizard, only finding Vereesa and, assuming that he was alive, Krasus.

Iridi ran toward him, the draenei constantly looking over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be right behind her. Rhonin looked past the priestess and saw only the rubble of the collapsed ceiling.

'Rom...' he murmured, starting forward. The last he had seen of the dwarf had been when a drakonid had also appeared.

'He was supposed to be with me!' the draenei uttered the moment they reached one another. 'He was —'

'Acting like a true dwarven warrior,' Rhonin returned. 'He did what he had to. There's nothing we can do....'

Iridi's expression changed abruptly, becoming very solemn. 'I knew him only a short time, but I'll do my best to honor his sacrifice and follow his example....'

The wizard started to reply, only to suddenly need to grab her before another section of the chamber could fall upon them.

But although he managed to keep them from avoiding that threat, the ground now shook with absolute abandon. The tremors that Rhonin had felt a few moments before magnified a thousand times over.

Cracks spread throughout the cavern floor, hot gasses hissing out of them. The cavern became stiflingly hot.

Rhonin looked to the nearest passage, which was still too far away. A part of him thought of Vereesa, but he knew what he had to do.

He seized the draenei in his arms. 'Hold tight and pray I've got the will and strength to do this one more time!^-

'But Zzeraku needs me! He knows that he can't fight Dargonax alone! He is sacrificing himself for us! For me! I feel it! I must help him! I will not let his sacrifice be In vain—'

'No time for arguments! Hold tight!'

The last of the dwarves and raptors were out, not that Rhonin could have done anything for any still lingering. He shut his eyes and concentrated—

An explosion filled his ears...then almost immediately dulled.

It was dark around him, but he did not need to see well to know that the two of them were outside. In addition, the wizard could hear the dwarves as they abandoned Grim Batol without reservation. Hisses mixed among their calls gave hint of several raptors also escaping the carnage.

But even outside, the ground shook. Rhonin was too weak to risk another leap after so much spellcasting over the past hours, but he prepared himself nonetheless.

However, it was not the ground that finally erupted, but a side of Grim Batol.

And with it came Dargonax and Zzeraku.

A plume of lava shot into the pair—and through them. The immense burst of molten earth meant nothing to them. Yet, all was not clearly well with Zzeraku for some other reason. In the fiery light of the eruption, the nether dragon looked more translucent than Rhonin thought healthy, and he seemed always on the underside of the struggle.

'Zzeraku is losing,' Iridi suddenly said, verifying the wizard's fears. 'He has been too long a prisoner, too long drained of his essence...and I think Dargonax yet still somehow feeds...'

'That doesn't surprise me a bit!' But other matters were already on Rhonin's mind, matters that had him staring at the ravaged mount. To the draenei, he said, 'Iridi, you'll be safe here with the dwarves. Stay with them, all right?'

'You're going after Vereesa, aren't you?'

'And after Krasus, if he still lives, but, yes, Vereesa most of all...'

The priestess nodded. 'Go. I know what must be done.'

He nodded his appreciation, although he also felt some guilt at focusing only on the personal in the midst of what might prove calamity for all Azeroth. Dargonax needed to be stopped, if that was at all possible.