8th Day of Summer
The heat was greater than it's been out here yet. The ruins are close to the Blackrock Mountain, and so the further through the ruins I went, the hotter it became, and with few sources of water nearby, I had to conserve what I had until I could get back to the camp. And though I did pass through the mountain itself, and I should be able to remind myself that it could be worse, the heat is intense enough to push that thought from my mind. Regardless of how hot it was in there, it doesn't make it any less hot out here than it is.
When Stebben Oreknuckle, one of the Dark Irons at the camp, heard I was going out there, he insisted on coming with me. I put it down to yet more creeping Dwarf behavior, but I feel a little embrassed to admit that, actually, he was quite interested in his own work. Still, I was grateful for his company. He was constantly on guard while salvaging any golems we passed by, and after half an hour or so I saw why. There were more Dark Iron Dwarves walking around the ruins, intent on spying on and attacking Chiselgrip where possible.
We were attacked a few times, and once I even managed to fend one off before Stebben noticed it was there. I was very proud of myself.
But the ruins really are something else. From the camp they appeared so petty and disappointing, but when I actually got close to them I could appreciate them much, much more.
Every brick is severely burned, coloured ashen grey from the fire of Ragnaros. The ground is still hot, almost eerily so, despite the mountain to the north, as if it would still be burning hot whether the mountain were there or not.
I can still see the structure of fireplaces, which is virtually the only reminder that these piles of rock once resembled homes, but the most distressing view comes from the bodies. The bodies of Dwarves who died in the blast, but instead of being obliterated, they were solidified. A pyroclastic flow Stebben called it, where the bodies had been encased in searing hot ash, and cooked from inside it. It sounds like a horrible way to die, but he then went on to tell me that they wouldn't have died from it. The sheer heat alone would have killed them long before the ash took hold. Either way, it is a shocking site. These bodies, trapped in the throes of pain, have stood here for three hundred years.
We went further into the ruins, and I found a...well I'm not sure what it was supposed to be, an idol of some sort, but when I picked it up, a vision flashed before me. I heard a voice belonging to nothing I've ever heard, threatening something, and I saw panicked faces, faces that had seemed so sure, so certain, but were transformed into ones of horror as they ran around. They didn't run for long, however. It seemed, in fact, that there had only been a few seconds to panic before fire filled my vision and the idol in my hands crumbled to dust. I'm able to more eloquently explain what I saw, though I don't remember what I heard. It was a jumble when I was witnessing it, it's only been after my mind was able to recover that I've been able to distinguish anything.
Oreknuckle asked me what happened, what I had picked up, and then what I had seen. He seemed to know that such things were out here, and had told me not to pick anything up - I don't recall him saying that, but, knowing myself, even if I had heard him I'd have picked it up anyway.
I suffered no ill effects from the idol, however, but the vision still sends me reeling. Now that I'm soon to go to sleep, I can see it clearer again. I wonder, in fact, if I'll be able to sleep tonight. I feel as though I have seen ghosts.
-- Atherya Sunleaf