Azeroth’s Death Track

Velen is dead...

Tyrion stood on the platform of the Dark Temple, calmly watching the draenei Nuri Velen kneel there, weeping uncontrollably. There was no mockery or expectation in his ice blue eyes. He seemed to be doing business All the same, say in an indifferent voice:

The destiny that belonged to the prophet has come to an end. An era has just died out. You and I are his last witnesses. Your father has won you a free future. You should take good care of it.

Get out of here, child, you have one night to pack your bags, and at dawn tomorrow, you will return to the world of the living, and your father will be reborn as an avenger...

Go away!

The angry young man opened the hand of the great lord stretched out to the prophet. He clenched his fist and stood in front of the remains of the prophet, like a fearless fighter, protecting his most important treasure.

I won't allow you to touch my father!

There was flame in Nuri's eyes. The evil energy in this young man's body was purified, but as the price of overcoming death, he should not be able to accept any power anymore, but under the guidance of the leader's mark floating on his forehead, a faint The golden flame ignited on his chest, and under the slightly surprised gaze of the great lord, the golden spark spread like wildfire, and in just a few seconds, the power of the holy light was brought back to Nuri in the body.

The fiery golden wings flapped behind the draenei. On his body, those golden lines were like the strongest armor of faith. The body of the protector Nuri and the terrible blood from the prophet made this reborn The young man received the grace of the Holy Light, which gave him the power to protect himself in this gloomy place of death.

But...this power is still far from that of a prophet.

boom

At the moment when Nuri wanted to jump up and fight with the great lord, Tyrion's fingers flicked outwards, and the dark power was like a howling whip, easily smashing the holy light wrapped around Nuri's body , the floating flames were like sparks and feathers flying in the air, illuminating the icy platform brilliantly.

It's a pity that the young man who was overwhelmed was beaten and rolled out in embarrassment, and finally hit the cold pillar of the platform. A welt appeared on his face. When he raised his head, he saw his own The father's remains were frozen by the evil lord, and then placed in the sarcophagus where he lay.

He lost his... second time...

no no!!

Nuri moved his shoulders and got up again, but at the moment he rushed towards the high lord, Yrel, the death lord who suddenly appeared in the darkness, punched Nuri on the back of the head. She gathered her strength, but This blow still knocked out the young man who was stunned by the pain.

boom

The draenei smashed in front of Yrel's boots. The death lord raised her head and looked at the high lord who was slowly closing the lid of the sarcophagus. She asked in a low voice:

How long does it take for a prophet to...

A long time, Yrel!

The great lord knew what his subordinates wanted to ask, and he sent the sarcophagus into the crack of the dead world, and replied:

For a soul like Velen who is loved by the Holy Light to the extreme, it will take time to completely fall into death. He voluntarily accepts this fate. If the powerful soul no longer resists, this time will be shortened a lot, but we still Patience is needed... It's like a jar of old wine brewed for death, only after time has passed can it be fragrant...

Well, I'm looking forward to it.

Yrel brushed her white hair and showed a smile. She handed the thing in her hand to the high lord, and she said:

The Prophet gave me this before accepting my fate, and I thought, maybe you'll need it.

Tyrion turned his head and looked at the soul song in Yrel's hand. He looked at the crystal, and after a while, he shook his head:

The inheritance that Velen gave you belongs to you, little Yrel, you can decide how to use it yourself, maybe you can go to Magni and ask him to use this crystal to make you a handy Weapon, you can also give it to other people who need it, well, I don’t need it anymore.”

The great lord smiled:

I'm also not in the habit of snatching spoils from my subordinates...go for it.

He turned around and walked into the crack of the dead world. At the moment the great lord disappeared, Yrel kicked Nuri under her feet, and she shouted loudly:

So, boss, what about this guy?

Keep him for one night, and then tomorrow morning...throw him out! Let him fend for himself...for him.

———————————————————

Yrel did not throw Nuri out of the Dark Temple in the end. She commanded a death knight to send Nuri to a room on the lower floor, and then went to the database of the Dark Blade Intelligence Agency. The moment he hit the awakening, he just saw a tall, draenei death knight wearing black armor, holding a file box, pushing open the door and walking into his room.

Sensing the icy aura coming from Yrel, which was in line with the great lord, Nuri nimbly grabbed the copper wine glass on the table as a weapon, and looked at her vigilantly. Although the influence of the evil energy on him had dissipated, But as the general of the Burning Legion, the combat skills he learned and the combat experience accumulated in the nearly ten thousand years of war made Nuri, the son of Velen's real combat power not to be underestimated.

boom

A box full of documents was piled up on the table by Yrel. The girl folded her arms and looked down at Nuri. She said calmly:

In this place, that thing can't protect you! Don't worry, Prophet Velen sacrificed himself to save you. As long as you don't mess around, you are not in danger here, at least tonight.

As a former demon general of the Burning Legion, Nuri would not trust a threatening person so easily, but he did not feel any hostility from Yrel. He breathed a sigh of relief and put the copper wine glass in his hand On the side, looking at the full box of documents on the table, he asked:

What's this?

This is what we can find. All the records of Prophet Velen's deeds are mostly from the time when the Draenei entered the world of Draenor to the present, some trivial and important events in the past 200 years.

Yrel picked up a document, which was marked with the logo of the Dark Blade Intelligence Agency on the surface, and she threw it to Nuri, and she said:

Between the relationship between you and the Prophet, I think you need these. You have never learned much about your father. You may not know him as much as I do. Before leaving here, I hope In your mind, Velen's father figure can be clearer... This is probably the last thing I can do for him.

Nuri didn't say anything. He sat on the edge of the bed, opened the file, and looked at the formulaic, cold text descriptions. After a few minutes, he raised his head, with doubts shining in his eyes:

Then I'm even more curious, who are you? Why do you do so much for my father, are you...my sister?

Stop thinking about it!

Yrel flicked her tail:

As far as I know, after leaving Argus, the Prophet has kept himself clean and never had any scandals with any women. Obviously, this is because you and your mother are too important to him... But we never I haven’t heard the Prophet mention anything about you and your mother, probably because he thinks that you have already fallen in the disaster of Argus, so he regards it as the most painful torture in his life.”

Do you know? Your appearance, no matter how you appear, is a good thing for the prophet. At least before he died, he was not alone like in the past.

A trace of sadness flashed in the eyes of the death lord:

Perhaps, he walked happily and contentedly... the moment when he greeted death was happier than when he was alive.

Yeah?

Nuri savored this slightly sad sentence. He lowered his head and flipped through the documents in his hand. In the descriptions in those words, a vague image of a prophet slowly appeared in his mind, as if to fill in his childhood memories. A father's fantasy in general.

you can go now.

Nuri whispered:

I would like to be alone for a while, thank you.

Well, hurry up.

Yrel walked towards the door, she looked back at Nuri, looked at the face that was 70% similar to the Prophet, and the dim and broken leader's seal floating on the forehead, she whispered:

When the sun rises tomorrow, you will leave here. This is what the Prophet meant. He doesn't want you to get too involved with the dead... For the world of the living, we are a bunch of hateful people. heresy.

Oh, yes, and this!

Yrel took out the purple soul song crystal from his pocket, shook it in the palm of his hand, and threw it to Nuri:

This is a beloved item that the Prophet has carried with him for tens of thousands of years. I think you are more qualified to hold it than me...Although you are not a Prophet, in your hands, it can only be used as an ornament and souvenir, but ...just keep it.

boom

With Yrel's departure and the closing of the door, the tears in Nuri's eyes dripped silently at this moment. Although as an adult, such a crying gesture is too sissy, but considering the child's experience The heavy past and the parting of life and death just now...don't be so harsh on him.

In the room of this dark temple, under the light of the dim spar lamp, Nuri flipped through the records about his father over the past 200 years, which were outlined from the dictation of the Draenei death knight. image of the prophet.

An image of wisdom, kindness, sometimes a little indecisive, and some blind obedience to faith has been enriched in his heart, as well as the things that the prophets did when the Draenei were in Azeroth, and Draenor Compared with the old world, the prophets in the new world seem to have become much more resolute, and even their behavior has become much clearer.

He's improving...he's learned the lessons of the past, and he's trying to lead his people in a more positive manner.

That's his father, a prophet, a fugitive, a leader, and...a worthy father, a hero to his son.

——————————————————————

In the early morning of the next day, when the sun jumped out of the horizon, Nuri, carrying a small bundle, stood in front of the transmission platform of the Dark Temple. The only one who came to see him off was Yrel.

The young man seemed very silent. He didn't say much. At the moment the teleportation platform opened, Nuri turned around and put the Soul Song crystal back into Yrel's hand. He looked at the death lord in front of him, He said:

This is left to you by your father, Yrel, I am not qualified to hold it.

After finishing speaking, the young man stretched his body, looked at the slightly indifferent and dim dark temple in front of him, and said in a low voice:

Thank you for the documents you brought, they cleared my mind, they made me understand the firm purpose hidden in my father's heart, and that will be my goal... I am not all nothing, he left the best life Give it to me, when I look back, I can see him, he is standing behind me, smiling at me so kindly, encouraging me, all the way forward...

That's hope. It's an emotion I've never had in the past ten thousand years of darkness... And holding hope is enough to stop me from being dazed. That's enough! Thank you, Yrel, You are a kind... er, necromancer.

Yrel didn't say anything, she was playing with the purple soul song crystal in her hand, she looked at Nuri who stepped into the teleportation platform, she asked in a low voice:

So, what are you going to do?

The young son of the Prophet stood in the light curtain of the teleportation platform, and he smiled at Yrel. A hearty smile appeared on his face, which was quite similar to Velen:

It's easy...

I want to inherit my father's behest, bring my father's people, and my people...

go home!

hum

The teleportation light shined at this moment. Under Yrel's slightly surprised gaze, Nuri's figure disappeared on the teleportation platform of the Dark Temple. He will be sent to the teleportation hall of New Stormwind City, and then he will Walk into your own life.

Take the draenei home?

Yrel tossed the purple Soulsong crystal up and down, she shook her head, what a lofty ideal.

But then, the death lord frowned again, looking at the purple crystal in her hand, she felt a little headache, since she couldn't give it away, it seemed that she really had to keep it.

And according to the great lord's opinion, perhaps, she should use this magical crystal to make a weapon for herself?

Then, what's the name?

Yrel scratched her horn. On the way to the forge in the Molten Core, she kept thinking about what name her weapon should have. This crystal was given to her by the Prophet. The Prophet is hope. She can use this crystal properly to help Azeroth survive the disaster brought by the demons, and to release her anger on those damned demons.

Hmm... I heard that the Prophet's favorite thing during his lifetime was the holy pattern rosary carved with azure crystal...

All right!

Then call it...

Blue Rage!