User:GoldenYak/Temple of the Hundred Hands
| Temple of the Hundred Hands | |
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| THH | |
 Temple of the Hundred Hands | |
| Location | Yuggol |
| End boss |
He Who Shapes |
| Instance info | |
| Type | Raid |
| Level | 100+ |
The Temple of the Hundred Hands is a raid instance in the Into The Void Expansion Concept. It features 13 bosses.
Background
Temple of the Old God, He Who Shapes, in Yuggol.
Encounters by Area
| Bosses | Monsters | |
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| The Slithering Gate | ||
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| The Writhing Halls | ||
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| The Defile | ||
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| The Ashen Incursion | ||
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| The Purge | ||
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| Halls of Sacrifice | ||
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| The Spawning Pits | ||
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| The Skittering Expanse | ||
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| The Chamber of Incarnation | ||
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| Cloister of the Shaper | ||
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| The Fane of Flesh | ||
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| Throne of the Hundred Handed One | ||
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Boss Encounters
Blightergheist, Hand of the Shaper
Forged by the black arts of the Old God, He Who Shapes, the Cursewracked are sentient incarnations of the Curse of Flesh. The being known as Blightergheist is a champion among their number, elevated to a new level of power and intelligence to act as the hand of the Old God himself.
Rozenkratz and Guildinstern
A pair of Cursewrack horrors born from the Curse of Flesh, these beings developed in two wilding diverging ways. Rozenkratz has become a massive juggernaut of destructive physical force, developing a powerful mutant body that is highly resistant to damage and possesses tremendous destructive power, though he is barely even capable of intelligent thought. Guildinstern's evolution however brought about different results - the spindly creature has a wasted, weakling body but has a tremendous acumen with magic. The duo each utilize their strengths to cover for their weaknesses, making them a formidable pair in battle.
Nhorgom, Bringer of Ruin
A hideous expression of the Curse of Flesh, Nhorgom is a towering giant of malformed flesh, tentacles, and eyes. His ever-changing body is constantly mutating, shaped and reshaped by the transformative power of He Who Shapes. This near-constant state of evolution allows Nhorgom to overcome any opponents he might face, gradually developing a resistance to any attack they bring against him while wearing down their ability to resist his destructive power.
The Ashen Inquisition
The ashen revile the Curse of Flesh in all its manifestations, and see it as the ultimate incarnation of the cancer that is life. While the ashen suffered a great many defeats in Vegathis, the zealous members of the Inquisition have not abandoned their holy mission to purge all flesh with sacred fire. The last of the Inquisition's forces have launched an all-out assault on Yuggol in the wake of the Alliance and Horde assault there, taking advantage of the damage inflicted upon the hordes of He Who Shapes to penetrate the Temple of the Hundred Hands. Though their goal is to root out the source of the Curse of Flesh, the ashen will seek to destroy any living beings who cross their paths, and the dark hand of He Who Shapes is upon them to make certain that they will spare no one in their zealous crusade.
Purgis, the Immolator
A massive and powerful construct, imbued with elemental flame. Purgis has unleashed much devastation upon the living, and the Inquisition has used him to great effect against the sprawling cancer of the Curse of Flesh. However, so much dark energy has been released by the blazing flames of Purgis that it has saturated the construct, imbuing it with a strange, dark intelligence that makes it more than a mere machine. A testament to the corruptive power of the Old Gods - nothing and no one is beyond their pestilent touch.
The Sons of Silence
The ashen zealots known as the Sons of Silence have come to the temple to destroy the forces of He Who Shapes, but in recent times they have proven themselves to be questionable allies to the heroes of Azeroth. At the climax of their assault on the outer walls of the temple, the Sons of Silence called upon Void-born powers, summoning eldritch monstrosities and dark magics no different than the wicked powers used by He Who Shapes and his malefic servants. Within the temple, three of the Sons of Silence, Mahnzar the Slayer, Murazak the Seer, and Mazarah the Silent, reveal the terrible truth.
Kurzakon, the Swarmlord
A colossal aqir abomination, spawned within the depths of the temple. Born from the flesh of He Who Shapes, this newborn insectile horror is still bound telepathically to the Old God and the dark power of the Void leaks from its massive body, birthing corrupted lifeforms that seek to rend and devour everything around them.
Vermin Prince Tyrinnox
One of the aqir born from the flesh of He Who Shapes, the spindly spell-caster Tyrinnox is one of the dreaded Vermin Princes, a breed of first-born aqir that exists to lead the lesser broods into combat. These fiends tyrannized Azeroth during the age of the Black Empire, but were all slain during the Ordering by the armies of the Titans, with only the ruling qiraji princes of Ahn'Qiraj having inherited their cruel, insectile might. Now the ancient evil is reborn.
Az'Shakku, Wanderer of the Outer Void
A n'raqi abomination born many eons ago. While most n'raqi are spawned from the flesh of the Old Gods, Az'Shakku was born within the Void itself, and existed for countless eternities without a physical form. As the power of the Old Gods increases and the Void floods into the universe, Az'Shakku has turned his attentions towards the realms of Light and matter. Emerging from the Void and cloaking itself in flesh gifted from He Who Shapes, Az'Shakku has come to carry out the dark designs of the Old Gods.
Amorbis, Clay of the Shaper
An enormous Shapless One giant, a hideous manifestation of the dark might of the Old Gods. Wielding ferocious power, his physical form shifts and mutates into new and deadly configurations to overcome any effort to harm him.
Altar of the Curse
Deep within the Temple of the Hundred Hands lies this blasphemous altar, a shrine of worship devoted to He Who Shapes and the infinite Void that spawned him. Legions of hideous monsters flock to the vile altar to pay homage to the powers of darkness. The Old God bestowed his vile blessings upon the altar, making it the physical vessel for the Curse of Flesh. From this dark monument, the transformative powers of the curse flow outwards into the worldshard of Yuggol, spreading the corrupting influence of He Who Shapes.
Y'Uurd, He Who Shapes
Born from the infinite malice of the Void, the Old God Y'Uurd, known and feared throughout the cosmos as He Who Shapes, has been a blight upon many worlds. Alone he was sent into the material universe to hunt for nascent Titans, and has consumed world after world in his quest, though mercifully he has never found a world that contained a Titan's soul within it. After devouring and shattering the worlds of Algol and Yuggol, the Void yawned open wide and drew Y'Uurd back into its dark embrace. The Old God drifted in the darkness until his black empire came to the Voidlands, where he received grand news - the final Titan in the universe, Azeroth, had been discovered. The dark powers of the Void now seek to empower a final agent that will travel to Azeroth to finally corrupt it and turn the Titan within to the darkness forever. Y'Uurd aims to become this agent, to devour all of his rivals in the Voidlands and alone receive the dark benediction of the Void. Then the Void shall claim all the cosmos forever, and He Who Shapes shall take his place as one of its lords.
Storyline
With the aid of the Sons of Silence and the free inhabitants of the Voidlands, the Alliance and the Horde have carved a bloody path through the eldritch hordes of He Who Shapes, only for the Sons of Silence to abandon their allies and forge ahead into the enemy's stronghold on their own. Forced to find alternate means of getting to the Shaper's lair, the heroes of Azeroth advanced on the Slithering Gate, a curse-growth choked entryway into the Temple.
The Slithering Gate
- Blightergheist yells: We're so glad that you have come...
Erupting from the curse-growth like pus from a ruptured boil, the Cursewracked ooze forth to attack the heroes of Azeroth. The Cursewracked are living viral cells, vectors for the Curse of Flesh turned into walking, sentient warriors. Mightiest and most horrific amongst them is the creature called Blighterghest, a fiend overflowing with the dark power of He Who Shapes. The monster coordinates the defense of the Temple, conjuring forth hordes of lesser Cursewracked fiends to die by the score in defense of their master's sanctum.
The Writhing Halls
- Rozenkratz yells: An incursion of unwelcome mortals is most inopportune at this time. I suggest, my fine Guildinstern, that we expel them with all due haste. Would you not agree?
- Guildinstern yells: Mrrraaagghh!!!
- Rozenkratz yells: ...quite.
After passing through the Slithering Gate, the heroes find themselves in the Writhing Halls, a horrible fane devoted to the bizarre creations of He Who Shapes. Curse-growth infests the halls, and hideous abominations wrought by the Old God's insanity ooze from the shadows and hallways, lurching to assault the invaders on a thousand misshapen limbs. The overseers of the Writhing Halls are two Cursewracked, born from the black flesh of the curse and twisted by the Shaper in different ways. While Guilinstern commands horrific physical power, the withered Rozenkratz is a mighty spell-caster that wields the toxic powers of the Old Gods to devastating effect. The two horrors compensate for each other's weaknesses, making them a formidable team, but their inherent chaotic and evil nature makes it possible for the two to be turned against one-another.
The Defile
- An unsettling, phlegmy voice invades your thoughts. Just listening to it makes you feel uncomfortable and moist.
- He Who Shapes whispers: What's this?! What's this?! Why how wonderful, a wellspring of new guests! So many new friends I've made today! Please make yourselves at home! I've prepared a suitable welcome for you!
- A colossal abomination erupts from the flesh-growth at the bottom of the chamber.
- Nhorgom yells: To his curse all things succumb! A riotous garden you will become!
When ancient Yuggol was overwhelmed by the aqir and n'raqi legions spawned by He Who Shapes, ancient temples of power were erected atop the world's underground ley lines so that the Old God could better feast upon and corrupt the energies of the world. The Defile represents one such nexus of natural energies, the very mystical heart of fallen Yuggol corrupted and polluted by the evil of He Who Shapes. The curse-growth is ripe and active in this region, and bursting forth from its thickest concentrations is the hideous beast Nhorgom. This Cursewrack is a colossal giant, stronger and more durable than the other manifestations the heroes of Azeroth have faced thus far. Nhorgom overflows with the chaotic power of the Shaper, and can even twist and reshape itself during battle to become even more lethal.
The Ashen Incursion
- Ashen Purgist yells: We have found it brothers! The very font of the corruption itself! Burn it! Burn it all!
- Ashen Purgist yells: You! Filthy mortals! You reek of the corruption! You are puppets of the Many-Angled Ones, just like the heretic Sons of Silence!
- Ashen Purgist yells: No more shall their corruption threaten the universe! All of you will burn in purifying flame!
Breaking through into the upper chambers of the Temple, the heroes of Azeroth discover that yet another force has made their way to the Shaper's Lair. The undead ashen of Vegathis, last depraved followers of the fallen high priest Agnitus, use their elemental flame portals to transport into the Temple, seeking out the source of the hated Curse of Flesh that despoiled their ancient kingdom before Vegathis' fall.
The Purge
- Purgis yells: No lifesigns detected. This region is purged.
- Purgis yells: Correction. Flesh detected. Activating sterilization protocol. All. Flesh. Must. Burn.
The Ashen Inquisition have dealt considerable damage to the forces of the Shaper within the Temple, but at last their powers are overwhelmed by the eternally growing and regenerating flesh. The area of their final stand is found an ash-blown temple fane, filled with the burnt carcasses of countless of the Shaper's creatures. At the center of the fiery devastation is the mighty automaton, Purgis, the Immolator. A golem imbued not only with elemental flame but the black hatred of its ashen creators, the mighty sentinel seeks to carry out its builders wishes to destroy all flesh.
Halls of Sacrifice
- Mahnzar the Slayer yells: The heretics have fallen. The followers of the true path remain. Our faith is vindicated. Blessings of the silent goddess be upon us.
- Murazak the Seer yells: The goddess speaks to us. She speaks without talking. Without talking. She tells us... the non-believers will not understand.
- Mahnzar the Slayer yells: No. Her wisdom is for us, not you outsiders. She guided us into alliance with you, to weaken the heretics who would not obey, to open the path to the lesser god, to the Shaper.
- Murazak the Seer yells: Know that you served a glorious purpose. The ascension of the Old God who will usher in the final darkness is at hand. But our alliance has outlasted it's usefulness. As have you.
- Mahnzar the Slayer yells: By her seven names. Zathena. Zemetis. Zecate. Zaamat. Zeshal. Zinerva. Zoma. By her hidden eighth name. Zom-Nurgal. Ywaq agth plahf k'kaaxth uuyati.
- Mazarah the Silent fixes his gaze upon you as he readies his blade. You suspect he will speak with actions, not words.
Only when the heroes of Azeroth finally breach the inner chambers of the temple and confront the Sons of Silence does the true extent of their corruption become clear - the Sons of Silence are servants of an Old God who counts He Who Shapes as a rival, and their entire campaign against the master of Yuggol is nothing more than the latest move in a game between the two Void-born deities. With their true nature revealed, the Sons of Silence turn upon the heroes of Azeroth, intending to sacrifice them to their chosen Old God, the Keeper of Secrets, Zom-Nurgal.
The Spawning Pits
- Kurzakon yells: Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke! For the glory of the profound dark!
Deep within the corrupted fortress of the Old God lie the Spawning Pits, where the pulsing tendrils of He Who Shapes twist and wind through the Temple's bowels. Bursting forth from the Shaper's own body are the aqir, verminous Void-born entities spawned to infest and corrupt the worlds that the Old Gods fall upon. These vicious, newly-birthed entities bristle with the power of the Void, and the mightiest among them is Kurzakon, the Swarmlord, spawned to lead the others into battle. The arthropodic fiend is bound to the will of He Who Shapes, and the booming commands of the Old God echo through his vicious, alien mind.
The Skittering Expanse
- Vermin Prince Tyrinnox yells: Tiny little rodents. You have trespassed in deep places. You have strode carelessly into my fangs.
- Vermin Prince Tyrinnox yells: Prepare to be plagued.
Once the newborn aqir emerge and move beyond the Spawning Pits, they enter the Skittering Expanse, a vast pit overlaid with the vile secretions and webbing of the aqir. Here they fight and feast upon one-another, growing and evolving more power and more intelligence. The Vermin Prince, Tyrinnox, is of a brood devoted to spell-casting and complex thinking, and he has emerged as a powerful leader among the aqir. The fiend controls deadly toxic magic and is able to summon and control hordes of vermin, insects, and arachnids. These dark spell-casting techniques were crafted by the Old Gods, and in another ancient cosmic era the demonic Nathrezim gleaned their use from their communion with the Void.
The Chamber of Incarnation
- A terrible voice blares in your thoughts. Somehow, you know that it speaks only the truth.
- Az'Shakku whispers: I have walked beaches of bone that shore oceans of black blood. I have basked in the screaming radiance of hollow suns and drank their foaming madness. I have trod the streets and fanes of Ny'alotha and danced with the lords and ladies of the Corpse City. Such sites I have to show you...
After passing through the portions of the temple infested with the aqir, the heroes of Azeroth encounter one of the oldest structures in the temple, the foundations of the black empire of He Who Shapes, laid an eternity ago by n'raqi and aqir servitors. The Chamber of Incarnation is built in unknowable eldritch angles, somehow larger on the inside than it is on the outside, time and space bent in strange ways by the power of the Void. Here, a wrong misstep could send one hurtling through alien dimensions, tossed about on a sea of darkness to wash up upon the bone-shard beaches of the Deep Void. From within the temple, an ancient evil emerges - the shape-shifting master of darkness, the n'raqi fiend Az'Shakku. This fiend holds no allegiance to any Old God, but has been drawn to the Temple by the prospect of conflict between two of the Shath'yar, eager to observe the outcome of the inevitable battle.
Cloister of the Shaper
- Amorbis yells: Mrrrsshhgh ghrrghkkullll ffrrgghhh!
As the heroes of Azeroth penetrate deep into the Shaper's lair, the structure of the temple becomes more bizarre and alien. The distortions in reality that were abundant within the Chamber of Incarnation have leaked into the surrounding structure, bending space and making the geometries of the temple's halls and chambers stretch and bend in unnatural ways. The heroes are nearly at the heart of the temple, the lair of He Who Shapes. Wandering these halls are the Shapeless, malformed miscreations of the Old Gods, whose piteous wailing belies their ferocious violence. The largest of these misbegotten terrors is Amorbis, the Clay of the Shaper.
The Fane of Flesh
- Vile Deacon of Y'Uurd yells: Ywaq agth plahf k'kaaxth uuyati.
The grand church of He Who Shapes, the Fane of Flesh is built atop the very throne chamber of the Old God. Here, the n'raqi that serve the Shaper conduct rituals and prayers in homage to their dark master, attended by the countless beasts and monsters who call the Old God their father.
Throne of the Hundred Handed One
- Unspeakable slithering and slopping sounds fill the chamber. A horrible whispering voice burns the meaning of the noise into your mind.
- He Who Shapes whispers: Frabjous felicitations, fleshings! Such lovely matter sloughing off those frames! Brother Yogg-Saron has spread my creation well to the sorry stone children of the Star-Striders, though sadly I hear the fellow has shed his flesh! No matter! No care! All shall be well! The garden grows in the Voidlands, and many Shath'Yar have gone into the fertilizer! The fruit of flesh is about to bloom! Only somber Ny'adrin with his thirteen calamities and clever Zom-Nurgal with her starry wisdoms remain! I'll have their flesh and their demise, and then... well, and then we shall plant a garden in Lady Azeroth's heart and watch it grow! Grow for the Fathers and Mothers in the Deep Black Sea! Grow and grow until it swallows all things, becomes all things! The glorious, first, and oldest flesh! Come now, fleshlings... be molded by Father Y'Uurd!
The heroes of Azeroth have braved all the eldritch horrors of the Temple of the Hundred Hands. After passing through the Fane of Flesh and descending into the throne chamber at the black heart of the temple, they encounter the architect of all the monstrous terror upon Yuggol, and the creator of the Curse of Flesh that has blighted life throughout the cosmos - the Old God, He Who Shapes. Y'Uurd. The hideous mass of the beast fills the throne chamber, a forest of tentacles ending in the hundred clawed, grasping limbs of the Shaper. The toxic power of the Void radiates from the Old God, dissolving reality itself and making all things clay to be shaped by his will.
At the height of the conflict, Y'Uurd will come under attack by the enigmatic Zoma, the goddess of wisdom of the ashen, named by the Sons of Silence as an avatar of the Old God Zom-Nurgal. Zoma's power tears into Y'Uurd while he battles the heroes of Azeroth, leaving him vulnerable. As his hideous bulk heaves and thrashes in pain, Zoma unleashes her power in a devastating burst of Void energy that blasts into the Shaper's malformed flesh with lethal force.
Aftermath
- Zoma yells: At last, the silence is complete.
Y'Uurd's body heaves its final black breath as the power of Zoma tears into him. Black blood and the dark power of the Void seeps from the squirming carcass of the Shaper.
- Y'Uurd yells: Hurrrgghhh... sister... you've shown yourself at last...! Come, come to me... I will crack open that silly shell and let your true beauty out...
- Zoma yells: I think you lack the strength, Brother Y'Uurd. You do not look at all well. The mortals have made you vulnerable. And so, I unmake your flesh and claim your power as my own.
- Dark energy emanates from Zoma, ripping into Y'Uurd's body.
- Y'Uurd yells: Hrraaghh... bad form, sister... bad form... you... you cheated...
- Zoma yells: You had your pawns, brother, and I had mine. The only difference is that mine didn't know they were pawns. It's as simple as that.
- Y'Uurd yells: ...perhaps... but if you think... Ny'Adrin will fall to such tricks... you will be... disappointed... even taking my flesh... will not make you mightier than he...
- Zoma yells: Perhaps. But as with all my enemies, I will have an advantage over him. He will not hear me coming...
The body of Y'Uurd collapses, withering into bubbling black pollution. Zoma absorbs the power of the fallen Old God, devouring his black essence and assimilating it into herself. Her humanoid form cracks and splits, tendrils of starry darkness flowing out of her body. The true form of the Old God, Zom-Nurgal, bleeding through her avatar.
- Zoma yells: As it has been on a thousand worlds across the cosmos, so is it here in the Voidlands.
- Zoma yells: The Lords and Ladies of Ny'alotha made us thus. Many Shath'yar fall upon worlds, searching for the scent of a Titan's soul. To nest in the Titan's heart is our fondest desire. To become the vessel for the Void, and arise as a Void Titan. To clasp this wondrous universe in our grip and listen to its bones crack as we squeeze it.
- Zoma yells: But only one Shath'yar may rule, alone. Only one may rise as the Void Titan. So the many fall upon one-another, until only one remains. We do not die, but we can be devoured. So we feast upon each other, taking the strength of our fallen brothers and sisters, until only one remains.
- Zoma yells: Blindly we searched the cosmos for the children of the Titans. But we need search no more. The Final Titan is found. We know. Azeroth is the last. We know its place in the cosmos. The gaze of the Void is fixed upon it.
- Zoma yells: The Void called us home. Many Shath'yar have left the warm cosmos and returned to our cold, black womb. We have fought and bled, conquered and fed. The fallen feed the victor, so they may build the strength they need to rule!
- Zoma yells: Hail Y'Uurd, the Hundred Handed! Hail Ryun'eh of the Living Blood! Hail Nagra'nul the Hopeflayer! Hail Baz'Korok the Slavemaster!
- Zoma yells: Hail Great T'Goggus and Zad'Rathaum! Hail O'Gaugar and A'Payek! Hail R'Kagoth and Vog-Gangul! Hail S'Baoth and Nagan-Gulio!
- Zoma yells: Hail one and all and all-in-one! All fallen to feed our glory. Only two remain. I, Zom-Nurgal, Keeper of Secrets. He, Ny'Adrin, the Path to Ruin.
- Zoma yells: One alone will win. One alone will rule. It will be me. I will be the chosen of the Void. I will fall upon Azeroth. And I will eat her heart.
With her dark pronouncement, Zoma vanishes from the chamber. The unnatural sensation that once permeated the temple feels lessened, like the very power of the place has been drained away.