I got bored. Since i am now some sort of Faerie Dragon decided to dig into my box of stories and share one.

"...For the dawning of the Age of Mortals has begun!"

However the interlude of reflecting over their victory was to be cut short by the sudden entrance of a mysterious, yet familiar, voice.

"No shit."

The aspects and Thrall, slightly alarmed by this unexpected interruption, turned toward the source of the voice. They were met by an imposing figure sitting atop what looked to be a large, two-legged reptilian creature. The mount looked strange as it is wearing what looked to be black-tinted glasses and a head dress of colorful feathers. It let out a high pitched cry and hissed at the group of heroes before taking a few steps forward.Thrall moved to the front of his group, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tries to identify this mysterious visitor, who's face and a fair portion of his body is covered in veil of shadow which hid most of his appearance. The only predominant characteristic of this stranger is a thick mane of red hair which looked like an uncontrollable wildfire as it gloriously blew in the wind.

It also sparkled.

Thrall continued to ponder over who this person may be for a few more moments before taking a guess. "Rhonin...Is that you? What are you doing here?" He said pointing at the raptor rider. Specifically pointing at the golden chain he wore with the word "Rhonin" attached to it.

"I think the question is..." He began, taking a brief moment of pause to collect himself. Then he suddenly moved forward, his face revealed and his silky red hair flaring up. "What are YOU doing HERE!?"

Thrall was confused and taken back by the sudden outburst of the magi who he thought he was on good terms with. “I don't understand.”

“I think you do.” The leader of the Kirin Tor said. He maintained his glare on the former warchief of the Horde while he swings his legs off to the side and hopped off of his mount. He dusted off his robes and again focused on the orc. Then his eyes shifted away, taking a quick glance at those who around. In his company there were four dragons and two orcs...and a piece of Deathwing's chin. Rhonin let out a scoff and shook his head in utter disapointment at the conclusion of the days events. He turned back to Thrall who still looked to be confused and in need of more explanation. “Out of everyone who could be here. Out of everyone who could have a beef with that sorry excuse of a villain!” He stopped and pointed toward the giant chunk of metal not even ten feet away from where they stand. “Out of everyone!” He repeated and then pointed toward the dragon aspects then turned back to Thrall.“Why are YOU here!? The guy who has absolutely nothing to do with this guy!” He once again pointed toward what remained of Deathwing, which from now on will be a monument to commemorate the ending to a bad story.

“Well Deathwing broke-”

“Well Deathwing broke the world!” Rhonin said, changing his voice to mimic the world-shaman and holding up both of his hands and making a gesture that resembled a speaking mouth.

Thrall's patience was beginning to wear out, but he controlled his temper none the less. He still had no idea why Rhonin is here and why he is saying the things that he is saying. “We had to stop Deathwing, we got the Dragon-”

“You mean this?” Rhonin interrupted once again and he held up the magical golden disc known as the Dragon Soul.

Nozdormu's eyes widened in surprise when Rhonin flashed the Dragon Soul and held it out for all to see. “How did you get that!? It was sssuppposssed to be sssent back to the passst!”

Rhonin chose not to answer the Timeless One's question at this time. There was more pressing matters to attend to. Besides, the answer is painfully obvious when one would simply think about it for a moment. “This?” He pointed to the Dragon Soul. “This was your big plan? This giant Ritz cracker that shoots laser beams?” Then Rhonin did the unthinkable. He opened his mouth and took a big bite out of the Dragon Soul and oddly enough, it did taste like a buttery Ritz cracker. “It tastes like a half ass ending with a mix of dues ex human revolution...and butter”

The response that he received was a collected gasp from those who were moments ago using the Dragon Soul as a weapon to kill Deathwing. However no one was more shocked than Nozdormu right now, for that is a copy of the Dragon Soul that was taken from a fixed point in time in the past, its existence is critical to the stability of reality.

And he is eating it.

“You can't do that!” The Timeless one pleaded. “You would dessstroy the whole of ssspace and time!”

“I can do whatever I want!” Rhonin fired back, with his mouth full of metal and ancient butter. “I'm Rhonin!” when he referred to himself in the third person he pointed to the golden letters hanging in front of his torso which spelled out his name. The spellcaster continued feasting on his meal until there was nothing left except for the feeling of dissatisfaction.

However reality did not immediately collapse upon the world. Nozdormu was now more confused than he had ever been in his life.

Then there was silence. Except for the sounds of the ever churning Malestrom which is now Deathwing and Cataclysm's grave. Thrall and his companions stood there with their mouths open, unable to speak and unable to formulate the words to respond to Rhonins actions. But the consumption of the Dragon Soul would not be the last of Rhonin's anticts. For he suddenly turned to Nozdormu and began walking toward him, staring him right in the eye. When Rhonin reached the dragon his hair stood on end and wiggled around. There were no words spoken, no sounds made. Rhonin just stared at Nozdormu and the dragon stared back, wondering what is going to happen now.

The tense silence lasted a few moments longer then Rhonin decided to speak. “Well I'm out. I don't want to be in a world with crappy endings like this.” Then Rhonin walked past Nozdormu and jumped off the cliff into the Malestrom.

The heroes rushed to the edge of the cliff to find their wayward guest but he was no where to be found in the waves of the Maelstrom. Once again there was silence, a moment of mourning for Rhonin. While he may have been overzealous in his actions and outbursts he was still a valuable comrade who had fought against Malygos in the Nexus War...and single handedly beat him with a twig he found outside of the Nexus.

“Even I didn't sssee that coming.” The bronze aspect commented.

But once again the silence did not last for long. Nozdormu suddenly felt a presence behind him and when he turned around he was kicked into the Maelstrom. Those who remained on solid ground let out outbursts of surprise and horror, watching Nozdormu plummet into the vortex only to disappear seconds later. Thrall stood up and turned around to face the one who killed Nozdormu only to find that Rhonin is now back and soaking wet, except for his hair which is dry as a bone. “It looks like his time...” he held off his hand to the side as a signal to his faithful raptor mount who placed a pair of glasses into his hand. “...Just ran out.” And with that the top-dog mage of the world placed the sunglasses on his face.

Thrall growled and walked forward to confront the leader of the Kirin Tor. “Why did you do that!?”

“Two words: Time War.” He responded with a shrug. “In one, maybe two years tops our good friend Nozdormu would go bat shit and try to fix time to avoid his future where he gets decapitated by a sixteen year old paladin with a large sword. Though in trying to avoid that future he ironically causes it to happen by going after the kids timeline.” Rhonin waved his hands around and began making weird gestures as he continues voice his reasoning. “Bronze dragons against infinites, time goes wibbly wobbly. Ten years ago would be a few feet away from us and so on, it wont be pretty.”

“How do you know that!?” Kalecgos remarked.

“I'm Rhonin.” And once again he pointed to chain that bears his name.

Thrall decided he had enough with these shenanigans. He drew the Doomhammer and tossed it at the mage. Rhonin simply watched the hammer fly toward him and when it got close his hair quickly extended outward and grabbed the hammer by its handle. The spellcaster struck a pose and pointed to the letters that spell out his name. That was not the end of his response though. His hair still held the Doomhammer with a tight grip and in retaliation it swung forward and bopped orc on the head. Thrall rubbed his head at the spot where he was hit, glaring at the mage who is now laughing at him. He let out a howling cry and charged toward him. When he got close enough he quickly leaped into the air, intending to pounce on him and retrieve the doomhammer, but Rhonin had other plans. When the orc leaped up his hair stood up and began spinning in big arcs above his head like a propeller. Rhonin then took flight and rose above the shaman before he could make contact.

Thrall hit the ground and ate dust. He looked up to see Rhonin soaring in the sky, using only his hair and the doomhammer to propel him into the sky.

“We'll im done now. I'll see you guys later!” He shouted and turned around, flying into the clouds, possibly into space.

And now our heroes (minus Nozdormu) were left to their own devices on the lonely rock near the mouth of the Maelstrom. They continued to stare into the sky for a few moments longer before directing their attention to each other.

Alexstrasza was the first to speak. “Well at least that's-”

She didn't get to finish what she was going to say. The doomhammer fell from the sky and hit her square on the head. Causing the dragon queen to fall flat on her face, knocked out cold.

The weary Thrall trudged over to the red aspect and retrieved his hammer. Rhonins raptor companion stood next to the orc and said: "The end."

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