World of Warcraft™

Fyndormi smoothed her shirt for the fourth time in the past ten minutes as she stood in the cool dimness of the Caverns of Time. She knew the team of heroes she had selected was at this very moment being escorted down to her, she wanted to make the best first impression she could. It was her team, her assignment, her mission. She would not fail! The Infinite must be stopped so that the battle with Deathwing could be won! She bit her lip and promised herself once again that she would make certain that her assignment not only succeeded, but succeeded flawlessly.

She soon heard the heavy flap of the wings of an approaching drake. There were not enough spare drakes to afford a ride for each hero, and they walked beneath the single drake. Fyndormi appraised them as she waited for them to walk closer. Some looked confused, others boggled at the profusion of dragons and wardens, some stared at the giant hourglass, and still others had steely looks of determination on their faces. But few, if any, noticed Fyndormi.

“Ahem!” she said in a voice that was a bit deeper than you would expect, “Greetings heroes! I am Fyndormi and I am the one who summoned you here to the Caverns of Time. If you would please follow me, I will show you around.” Fyndormi turned and began walking as fast as her short legs allowed., speaking as she went. “To put our situation in simple terms that everyone can understand, we need your help. The Bronze flight has hired mortals such as yourselves in the past to help us prevent the Infinite flight from meddling in the time streams... some of you may have even been among those that we have hired. Oh, am I going too fast? The Infinite flight are corrupted Bronze dragons, it's very sad but true. They serve Murozond... which is another sad story altogether... But I digress, we are far too busy preventing Deathwing from destroying all that you know and love to deal with each individual instance of Infinite meddling. That is where you come in! You will live here and be sent through time to disrupt the Infinite's plans as they are discovered. Follow me through here and you will see your new home!”

Fyndormi led them down a short, twisting hallway that led to a portal hardly bigger than a door. “We felt it important to keep you close at hand, yet separate from the Cavern. It will make it more difficult for the Infinite to track us down this way. Through the portal and into your new home... for the time being.” Fyndormi waited until all the heroes had crossed the threshold, then followed.

They stepped out of the coolness of the Caverns and into late afternoon sunlight. They were on an island, the quiet whispering of the waves the only sound to be heard in the stillness. Fyndormi looked up at the gathered mortals expectantly. She had personally chosen and designed their living space, and hoped they would appreciate it. The island was large, with a hilly, grassy area in the west where small herds of deer roamed. In the shadows of the hills was nestled a manor. Near the manor was a garden and orchard, with vegetables and fruit ripening in the sun. To the south lay a small wooded area, in which a few predatory cats roamed. The woods curled northward in the east, and to the north there was nothing but a rocky drop-off into the ocean.

“I thought it best if we were somewhat self-sufficient, to minimize shipments from the caverns. I trust a hardy bunch like yourselves isn't adverse to a bit of manual labor? Let's check out the house,” Fyndormi said, indicating the manor, “I designed your rooms based upon your cultures' norms, I do hope you like them.” Fyndormi was practically glowing with pride and hopefulness. This entire island had been her brainchild, and she dearly hoped that no one would complain and leave. She led them into the entry hall. The common area was furnished with many low, squashy chairs – Fyndormi's favorite kind. Off to one side there was a stone-paved kitchen and dining area. “Your rooms are all upstairs, I've labeled your door with your name. You can explore a bit if you'd like. Now, any questions?”

Sammuroth was not expecting the message, but it wasn't unwelcome, it had been many months since he had left Moonglade, ever since the battle against Ragnaros on Mount Hyjal. The message had called for him to travel to the Caverns of Time, apparently he had been requested, by name to aid the bronze flight with some kind of threat. It was not a request he could exactly refuse not many were asked for their aid by the flights. He had departed immediately and he was one of the first to arrive once the others the flight had requested had arrived they were all escorted into the cavern. Having fought with the flights ten thousand years ago in the War of the Ancients he wasn't surprised at their splendor and knowing that the bronze were always eccentric he wasn't too confused by their request.

As they arrived into the main part of Cavern he noted a small gnome, he didn't pay her much mind until she spoke to them, apparently she was the one who had requested his prescence. Letting her go through her explanation he followed her along with the others, when they had arrived at their destination Sammuroth did find himself floored by their temporary home. The masion was impressive, but he was more accustomed to sleeping outdoors, even should his room seem like it was he didn't think he would be comfortable. When the gnome asked for questions he spoke up, "Yes, I have a couple of questions actually, firstly is there a particular reason you chose us, and secondly, though I appreciate the effort I would much prefer to sleep in the wooded area you mentioned if that would be acceptable." He waited expectantly for their benefactor's reply.

The moon hung full in the sky. Its soft silver gaze was reflected across the vast sands of Tanaris as they stretched like an endless sea towards the horizon. The bright moon hid many of the stars that would have been visible on a clear night as this one, but the wind brought with it smells of old stones, dry air, and desert blooms that combined with the smoke from the fire into a surprising pleasant sent.

Using what remained of a wall whose building had long ago collapsed into rubble, Rhian sat on a blanket in front of a small fire. She was angled in such a way that the firelight reached the journal in which she was writing the events of the day. Nothing too exciting today, so the entry would be short.

Stretched out beside her with his stomach towards the fire was a large greyish brown wolf. The beast, who answered to the name Longshore, was asleep and snoring softly.

“Rhian Bardsley of the Redridge Mountains, I am please to make your acquaintance.”

Rhian let out a small gasp as the voice spoke from the darkness. Neither she--nor more importantly, Longshore--heard anyone come up. She reached out and grabbed her rifle as she stood up and peered into the darkness. The soft snores abruptly ceased.

An elf stood there. Long white hair, golden skin, and golden eyes made him look like no elf she had ever seen before.

Longshore lifted his shaggy head to stare at the visitor. After a long moment, he turned his dark gaze to his mistress as if to say, ‘If you want me to bite him, I will.’ He did not make any move to get up, though.

“How do you know my name?”

He gave her an apologetic smile. “I know that I have startled you, but my message is urgent and our time is short. I am Vinidormu of the Bronze Dragonflight,” Longshore let out a huff, “I am here on behalf of a colleague that needs help with some very delicate matters. She is waiting to meet you and explain the situation.”

He didn’t answer her question, she realized and she wondered if she should go anywhere with this man. “How do I know…”

“I remember your hesitation and perhaps this will ease your mind?” the elf suddenly disappeared in its place stood a bronze dragon.

Longshore yawned and stood up, quietly padding over to his mistress. Once there, he sat down on his haunches and stared at the dragon. It wasn’t black, it didn’t smell of smoke or orcs, and wasn’t trying to eat him. He didn’t think he needed to be concerned.

After a moment to let her digest the information, he turned his head towards the east. “Not far from here are the Caverns of Time. Make your way there and she will be waiting. You have a vital role to fill in the past to ensure that you and your people may continue with the future.” With that, he lifted off the ground and disappeared into the night, sand spraying her from the wing force used to push him into the sky.

Rhian stared after him, momentarily nonplussed by the strange encounter. You have a vital role to fill in the past to ensure that you and your people may continue with the future. She looked down at the journal that was now laying on the ground, partially covered in sand. She was writing it so anyone who read it would understand the land and customs of the places that she had been. The idea that she was being picked by the Bronze Dragonflight for something important appealed to her, although her common sense told her to approach this with caution.

She turned and began dismantling her camp, careful to smother the fire with sand and double check that she had not left anything behind. Her horse whinnied softly as she began placing the packs across the saddle and Longshore looked up at her with an expression that said, ‘Can’t this wait until morning?’

“Come on, lazy bones,” she reached down and patted his head. “It isn’t that late and I don’t think the Caverns are that far.” She looked at the horse, “I will walk beside you; you don’t have to carry me.”

The Caverns of Time were not far away at all. She reached them with little trouble and was met by a large dragon at the entrance. Several others were gathering with her, but before she had time to look over them, they were moving down into the tunnel. At the bottom, it opened up into a large room with a dais in the middle where two great dragons sat. Both appeared to be focused on something that only they could see. All around them were people of difference races, but all sharing a similar quality of clothing, hair color, and presence. Rhian had to wonder if they were all dragons in disguise. Finally, they were introduced to Fyndormi, the dragon that would be overseeing whatever tasks they were supposed to be doing.

(1/2)

Rhian followed quietly as Fyndormi walked around the Caverns and explained the situation. Finally, they came to a short hallway that abruptly ended at an island. Rhian slowly turned in a circle taking in the grassy knolls filled with deer—she could already imagine Longshore stalking one. There were abrupt cliffs that she assumed spiraled down to the sea and a dense forest that looked similar to the one where she had found her wolf companion.

A manor house stood nestled against the hills and the dragon made her way there. As she explained that everyone had their own rooms, Longshore moved to the hearth where he collapsed on the rug in a pile of fur and legs. Fyndormi looked over the group with a rather hopeful expression and Rhian had to wonder if she were feeling a bit nervous about their reactions to being here.

“It looks wonderful,” Rhian spoke up just after a large cat asked a question about why there were here. Surprised, she looked at the cat that she had originally thought was someone’s pet and came very close to blurting out, “You can talk?” but thankfully had held her tongue.

Maybe not a pet, she thought. Perhaps it was a good thing she hadn’t asked whose pet it was on the trip here.

(2/2)

Thule sat in the inn in Tanaries staring off into space, when a tall elf approached him" Thule of Mulgore, so nice to meet you". At that Thule stood up so quickly that he knocked the table onto it's side and thunder's "Give me two good reasons about why i should not knock you out of your shoe's ELF" he spit's the last word out as one would spit a piece of rotten meat out.

The man smile's at Thule" Because, you have been asked by the Bronze flight to come help with a influx within the time stream." Thule stare's at him with a blank look and the man sigh's" We need your help, help dragons kill evil dragons". Thule grin's "Ahaha! why didn't you say so before! where am i needed to go elfy." The man sigh's and points to the East" The caverns of time, your assistance is needed there."

Thule grin's and turns and walks out pushing a human out of his way. Outside he looks around and roars" God damn, Ank'thorrah! where are you? get your lazy, no good kodo @ss out here!!." With a grunt a creature known as a Kodo rumble's out of the stables and kneels allowing Thule to climb into the saddle. He rush's out the gate, a single idea on his mind. Arriving he dismounts and lands in the sand making a small hole. Looking up at the dragon and the other's, he scoff's and follows the dragon down the ramp.

He followed the gnome known as "Fyndormi" to a single portal that looked like an island and listened to the description of what was going on with a shrug he ignore's it. After they arrive at the manor and the woman tells them she will be overseeing their task's. He growls but decide's to leave it be. He shrug's it off and stare's in shock and wonder as a cat, he once thought belonged to the woman with the wolf spoke. He narrows his eye's and poke's at him" What type of sorcery is this...". he turn's to the gnome" I don't like this place and i don't like you, i still do not understand why i am here. And why this infinese....infineter...infinite dragonflight is a danger to me and my people, who care's if they tamper with the human's or elf's timeline? won't affect the tauren. I am sorry, but i am mainly here to see if by any remote chance something might harm my people in the present or future."

((Just an FYI The bone crusher's abilities are, like everything about them, obvious and blunt, The average bone crusher is not much of a conversationalist, either, and is quick to put up his fists in any argument. A bone crusher is more at home in a bawdy tavern prone to bar fights than quiet discussions in a library. Bone crushers are reckless and hard to control, and even harder to stop once they start moving. Bone crushers balk at rules, or literally anything that holds them back. "Less talking, more smashing" is a motto to bone crushers, one that most others learn quickly.))

Soral was setting up camp in Elwynn Forest, even though it was still dusk. Soral knew she and her horse could go much farther, but she would not make it to Stormwind before dark, and even if she pressed on, she would still have to wait until morning to make her full report to Elwynn's assigned ranger. As the young ranger set up her defenses, she kept her quiver over her shoulder and her bow was ready.

Right away, Soral knew something was wrong. She was not alone. It was her sixth sense, her training that detected it first, but she soon began to hear strange noises. As quietly and unnoticeably as she could, she drew her dagger and held it against her chest for a moment before spinning around and lashing out her weapon.

A young man was standing right in the middle of her camp, looking quite amused. "Put away your weapon, Soral Masters. I am not here to harm you." Soral hesitated instinctively. The human laughed, and Soral noticed glittering bronze eyes. "If I was here to attack you, not only would I have already attacked you, I would have not made my entrance so obvious. You were trained well, young ranger."

Realizing he was right, Soral sheathed her dagger. "Then why are you here? And how do you know my name and the fact that I'm a ranger?" she inquired suspiciously.

The man laughed again. "It is quite obvious you are a ranger, young one. As for your name, it was given to me by the colleague who sent me here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am called Dorialus, and I am a member of the Bronze Dragonflight." As he introduced hiself, he turned into his true form of a bronze dragon.

"The colleague that sent me has a situation of great importance that she wishes you to help her complete. A quest of the past, so to speak. Your role, which is important to succed, is your next and newest test. You will find my colleague in the Caverns of Time. She will tell you everything you need to know." With that, the dragon took to the air band flew away.

There was no hesitation in Soral's mind. She began packing away her half un-packed camp. Her horse looked at her quizzically. At last the ranger mounted. "Right. Let's go find these Caverns of Time."

(1/2)

"It'll only be a couple of days! ...Weeks... months... Look, I don't know how long it'll be, but toots, ya' gotta' understand!" Belixa pleaded, planting her head on the wooden table in her small home in Gadgetzan. "I won't take long!"

Binky, the robot squirrel, stared at her with beady black eyes, her tail twitching at a rather fast pace. Belixa took it as a bad sign. Whenever Binky's tail was that fast, she felt the need to make everything right between the squirrel and herself. Maybe the guilt trip would work.

"If I could take ya' with me, I would! I'm so sorry that the Bronze Dragonflight wants my help!" Belixa said, standing up straight and crossing her arms. She closed her eyes and stuck her nose in the air. After a few moments of silence, not even a squeak or a cog twirling from Binky, Belixa peeked one eye open. Binky still stood on the table, only now with her back facing Belixa.

Belixa practically shuddered at the cold treatment she was receiving. With a jaw drop, Belixa nearly pouted. "Binky... please... I can't take ya'..." After a few more horrendous seconds of Binky's back, Belixa finally gave in, throwing her arms in the air. "Fine! Get in the bag!"

Without a second to lose, Binky scittered off the wooden table, squeaking her way to the bag. She flung herself in, Belixa already packed and ready to go. Binky cozied up inside of Belixa's extra clothes she had decided to bring and Belixa put a finger up to her lips, Binky giving a slight nod. She would have to stay quiet for Belixa.

Leaving her home in Gadgetzan behind, Belixa hopped into her mechano-hog, created by herself with pride, and left the town in the dust. This would probably be her biggest adventure to date! Belixa smiled to herself as she rode to the Caverns of Time. Taking Binky along wouldn't be a bad thing. The robot squirrel would be so proud of her, seeing her mingling amongst dragons. Or scared witless.

---------------------------------------

Belixa arrived at the Caverns of Time the next day, having set up a camp in the middle of the night to get some rest. She hadn't expected it to take so long to get here!

She was introduced to Fyndormi, apparently a dragon. She was so tiny though, much like herself. It just puzzled Belixa to think that she could be a dragon at all. Belixa shook her head and focused on what Fyndormi was saying, trying to not bump into any of the other heroes gathered around her.

They were a strange bunch, all tossed together. Some muscular and tall, others lithe and agile. Belixa again had to drive her attention to the Bronze dragon before they were tugged into a portal. Around her, a beautiful island appeared and a huge manor. Belixa's mouth didn't drop but her eyes popped wide open. This is where they'd be staying?

Binky poked her head out of Belixa's bag, eyeing the scenery. She made an approving whirring noise, causing Belixa to slam her hand down on Binky's head, the robot squirrel going back into her bag.

Once inside the manor, Belixa wanted to rush upstairs and see how her room looked. Well, as Fyndormi had said, it would look like her culture. Belixa could handle that. Hopefully she would be able to tinker in there without causing too much trouble for her new neighbors. She hadn't even noticed when the cat spoke, too curious about her surroundings.

Soral wasn't sure whether it was the real distance or some kind of magic at work, but the ranger arrived shortly at the Caverns of Time. There she found the gnome, and saw other heroes. She had not recognized them, but maybe that was a good thing. As a ranger, Soral sometimes unintentionally crossed other heroes in order to complete her missions, which the neutral rangers set for her.

Soral listened to the gnome, who was actually a dragon, who explained her situation. The solution they had come up with made sense, but it had her divided. On the one hand, she really wanted to help the Bronze dragonflight. On the other hand, as a ranger she had her own responsibilities. She was no longer training with her mentor, but she still haad responsibilities. And she hadn't even reported to the ranger stationed in Elwynn yet. Perhaps she could have some questions answered.

They turned around and they saw the manor. Soral was quite impressed. It looked nicer than any place she had stayed in before, except maybe Stormwind Keep that one time. Soral took in everything around her, using her senses as her mentor had taught her. He could hear his voice in her head reminding her of her training. They walked along the island into the manor. It was quite spacious and comfortable. But Soral was still unsure.

She was quote thankful when the dragon asked for questionds. She took a deep breath and began. "Fyndormi, I have unfinished duties and responsibilities at home. I realize this is very important, but I don't know that they'll be taken care of. I just........." she trailed off. The dragon must know what she was thinking. There had to be a reason the ranger was brought into this.

(2/2)

It was a late afternoon in Ratchet, a rather pleasant day. The tavern was dimly lit and somewhat crowded. The chatter and laughter would be overwhelming to those that wouldn't be accustomed to the lifestyle. There was a table underneath a stair way, lit dimly by candle light with two men parallel to each other, each one holding a hand of cards. One was hooded and shadows loomed over his eyes while the other had slick greasy hair and a waxed mustache. "Alright, mage. I win this hand and your purse is as good as mine and all its contents." The sleazy man said with a cocky grin on his face. John sighed and put his cards down for a moment to glare daggers at the other from under the shade that covered his eyes. "Its a satchel, not a purse..." John said in annoyance. "Just show me your hand and let's be done. I'm getting sleepy, you know..." Suddenly the man frowned and grunted. He revealed his cards on the table. "Pair of twos..." He said quietly, slouching in his chair at the sight of his terrible hand. "Pair of threes. I win." John said immediately as if he already knew he were going to win. The other man slammed his fist onto the table and gritted his teeth viciously at the mage before opening his mouth to speak before simply stomping off and leaving the tavern.

John watched with a grin on his face as he watched his opponent stormed out of the tavern before sweeping the small pile of coin his way and placing the leather satchel over his shoulder. "Another convincing win." He said quietly to himself before scooping up the coins and placing them in a pouch at his side. He turned his chair to stand up and head out, but just as he was about to walk away, a voice called to him. "John Anders. I've been watching you. You've got quite the cunning." John paused for a moment and turned to the voice. A strange man had asked. He was sitting where John had beaten his most recent victim. "That's, uh, creepy. But I appreciate the compliment." John said, sitting back in the chair. "Uh, who are you? Wait, I don't owe you anything, do I?" He said, pulling down his hood revealing the rest of his head to this man. The mysterious figure flashed his teeth at John. "I am Arazmodu of the Bronze Dragonflight. You have quite some talent." He said, folding his hands on the table. "Sit, please." John did so, slowly. "Bronze Dragonflight? Pardon me if I think you're crazy... but for some reason, I believe you..." John said cautiously before leaning back into the chair crossing his arms. "You're an intelligent man. I'll get to the point. The Bronze Dragonflight needs you, John. A friend of mine will tell you the rest you should know. That is if you're willing to join us."

John sat for a few moments in silence. This man across from him was still staring at John and it would occasionally break his train of thought. The sounds of the tavern seemed to have quieted down as the two spoke, er, sat. Adventure, loot, treasure, knowledge. Those were all part of a list that flowed through John's mind as he thought of the words of the mysterious man. If the Bronze Dragonflight really needed him, all of those things in his mind would come true. John looked up to the man. "Do I get to go back in time?" The man nodded once and John smiled. "Alright, I'll believe you... If you prove to me that you're really a Bronze Dragonflight..." The man nodded and stood, beckoning John to follow him out of the tavern.

John followed the man and was lead to the back of the tavern. It was dark and abandoned, so very different from the inside of the tavern. The man flicked his hand a clear window that appeared to present a desert and what seemed to have been a strange cavern. The man pointed at the portal and smirked. John nodded in approval and in silence, stepped through the portal. In a instant, he was in the desert called Tanaris and immediately met a character by the name of Fyndormi. John looked at the woman and listened to what she had to say about this 'mission'. John nodded. "Well, I am here..." John said with slight sarcasm as he followed her to another portal. When he walked through it, he was immediately taken to a rather large manor on an island.

(1/2)

When Fyndormi asked for questions John raised his hand. "Ah, yes. Where's the bathroom... Ha, uh... that wasn't funny... I'll just... find it myself." And with that, he wandered off. It wasn't long before he found a door with his name labeled on to it. "Well, I know this door is at least mine..." He said to himself before reaching for the knob, attempting to open the door. As soon as it didn't open he began to frantically shake the knob of the door it attempt to force the what seemed to be jammed door. He stopped for a moment, looking down the corridor making sure no one was watching him struggle. He looked at the door and reached for the knob, this time opening the door with ease. He looked at the door, in annoyance before looking around inside. It looked just like a tavern room in Dalaran. John looked around and nodded. "Not bad... I have admit, I did miss Dalaran's pillows." He said aloud as if this dragon were listening on him. He walked in and began to think what sort of path he was on with these dragons...

(2/2)

*Yegger is hammering at a piece of metal*

Clank Clank

"Mr. Stonehearth, sir! You hav... *muffled by the hammering* .etter"

Yegger turning around sees a young dwarf walking up to his workstation. "Sorry, lad couldn't hear a Yeti with a blunderbuss with these things in," he says while removing his earplugs, "I should start putting these bad boys in right before last call!" *chuckles*

"What have you got for me there son," Yegger points and quickly glances at the letter the dwarf had firmed grasped in his hand.

"Ah yes sir, Mr.Stonehearth, its an urgent summons by the Bronze dragonflight!," the boy then quickly handed the letter over to Yegger.

"The Bronze dragonflight!," Yegger mushed his face into a puzzled expression, "What in the light could they want with me?" Tearing open the envelope and skimming over the wording it was just as the young dwarf had said Yegger had been summoned by the Bronze flight to the Caverns of Time for an important set of missions.

His eyes lit up with excitement, he had being looking for a reason to get out of Ironforge again. He had come back there after a failed venture in finding a rare diamond in Un'Goro Carter as it had turned out to be nothing but a myth. He had been working odd mechanic jobs for the Alliance to help recoup his losses for the past few weeks and it was slowly driving him mad with boredom. So without even a second thought he began to grab up his stuff and shove it into into his backpack.

"Umm sir, I realize this is most likely a very pressing matter but werent you already in the middle of something?" the young dwarf asked puzzled at how quickly Yegger had started to pack.

"Ya, was just fixing a few of the aiming mechanisms for the Alliance battle tanks." Yegger spouted off causally.

"But thats sounds important!"

Yegger finally closing the pack and grabbing his hat, "Yep terribly important, but also terribly boring. Catch ya later laddie I got a train to catch; also quit with the "Sir" stuff no ones called me that since ...... well... Ah! forget it just call me Yegger everyone else does."

With his back turned his gave a wave farewell and disappeared around the corner.

(Later in the Caverns of Time)

Yegger made his way down the tunnel along with the rest of the group. A real rag-tag bunch they were humans, orcs, bloodelves, almost every race in Azeroth was represented. He was pondering if there would be any in fighting due to that very fact when they came upon a gnome who soon began to speak revealing herself as the one in charge of bringing them all here and would also be deciding their missions.

Soon they walked out onto an island, Yegger giving an approving whistle as he looked around. Then they walked inside a manor house where the gnome stopped and said,

“Your rooms are all upstairs, I've labeled your door with your name. You can explore a bit if you'd like. Now, any questions?”

"Awe, finally this thing was starting to weigh a ton!" Yegger said while shifting his backpack around as he bustled towards the stairs.

After a long day of work Rettmar had retired to his hut on Hunters Rise. He gazed around at the walls running his hands across the smooth hide that made the walls, it wasnt much but it was "home". A name he had called many different places but this was the first time he could say it and truly feel it in his heart.

After being discharged from the army ,the only life he had ever known, Rettmar had been lost as to what to do with himself. That was until he got a message from an old friend saying he could use a hand building shelters for those whos homes had been lost by the Grim-totems uprising. Rettmar was not a carpenter by any stretch of the imagination but he could swing a hammer and it would give him purpose again.

After a few of the fellow workers heard about what had happened to Rettmar back in Orgrimmar they pleaded with him to come stay in Thunderbluff. At first he had wanted to politely decline but after seeing they had already built him a place to stay he could no longer turn them down.

That had been months ago now though but it was as if he had lived there for years. The Tauren were surely the purity of the horde, they were kind, welcoming, and stood on principles of honor and pride. But above all they worked as one towards a common peaceful existence. Rettmar couldnt help but wish his own people were a bit more like that, as he began to drift off to sleep.

He awoke no longer in his bed but instead on the soft grass of the fields outside Thunderbluff with a dragon staring down at him!

"I apologize for the lack of subtlety but this is an urgent matter my Orc friend. The Infinite dragonflight have been taking advantage of us being stretched thin by the fight against Deathwing and have begun disrupting the past; so we have no other choice but to recruit a group of mortals to stop them in our sted. A fellow flight member was put in charge of the selection process and I was sent to inform you that you are one of the chosen." Suddenly the dragon shifted into the form of a elf and began to open a portal, "Please make your choice quickly, time is of the up most importance."

Rettmar took a few moments to to gather himself and get to his feet,"Why would the dragonflight want and old warrior like me, there are plenty of better choices than I in simple viewing distance," Rettmar said pointing up toward the rises "besides I'm not a soldier anymore."

"Youth isnt always an asset on the battlefield and your expulsion from the armies of the Horde means you have no prior obligations to hold you back from helping us," the dragon lowered his hands as the portal was now finished, "But above all else its important for you to know that just because your great sacrifices havent been directly rewarded by those you made them for doesnt mean they have gone unnoticed by everyone. You are a mortal who has always held his honor and duty above his own well being, an Orc who has done everything in his power to bring his people peace when many far more celebrated have done nothing but breed more war, but never have you doubted your cause. Those are valuable skills that can not be thought can not be trained but only learned though a lifetime of experiences. That is why we want your help this is why we need it."

Rettmar let out a tired sigh and nodded at the elf, "Fine, I will help you on this mission but Ill need my armor and axe."

"Not to worry I took the liberty of bring those with us," he said pointing down to a chest."Awe, but I doubt a Orc wishes to have Alliance see him unarmed!" With a flick of his wrist the chest flung open and the axe floated forth out toward Rettmar who then grabbed it from the air. "Are we ready to go then?" With a nod Rettmar followed the dragon though the portal.
(1/2)

Not to long after they arrived in the Caverns of Time. "Alright my Orc friend Im afraid this is where we must part," pointing off to the right "there is the rest of the group you should join up with them and met your fearless leader *grins* dont worry about the chest Ill have it sent to your new quarters."

Rettmar walked and met up with the rest of the group, he held his axe at the top of the shaft, his upper closed palm resting against the cold black steel. Stabbing the pointed far end into the ground as we went along using the large weapon almost like a walking stick.

Not to long after that the group met up with a gnome who began to explain what is they were to do here. She seemed a tab nervous and frizzed talking almost as quickly as she walked but there was a fire in her voice that Rettmar liked. It reminded him of the young and brave Horde soldiers he had met in his years of service full of enthusiasm and life. But at the same time he remembered how many of those same ones had had their life cut so short by war, he muttered an almost silent "Aka'Magosh" in reverence.

They then came to an island and were ushered inside a building where the gnome told them they would be staying and to feel free to look around. Rettmar decided to check his room to see if his armor had arrived.

(2/2)

Today was not a normal day.

It had started simple enough, a bright(ish) morning in Moonglade. Though not officially part of the Cenarion Circle anymore, Grishmak found it hard to abandon his Druidic roots. He continued to live in a small house on the bank of the lake, sharing it with his wife Sairdna.
They were just warming up for the spellcasting practice they went through every morning-near the lake, should anything catch fire-when a runner had arrived with a letter.

The letter had started everything.

The courier stood by as the Worgen slit the envelope and read the letter.It was a very simple message. It said that the Bronze needed his help, and that a portal would be taking him to his destination soon after he read the letter. Grishmak glanced up at the courier, about to ask who had sent him.

That plan was cut short.

With little warning, the Druid was dropped through a portal that the courier had opened under his feet, dropping the letter at the same time. He fell through into the entrance to the Caverns of Time, where a group had already gathered. Confused, Grishmak followed the drake who showed them to another, this one in humanoid form. The humanoid dragon-named Fyndormi-had shown them through a portal, which led to an island. The island held a large building, which she said they would live in while they helped the Bronze flight.

When Fyndormi had asked if there were any questions, Grish immediately asked the one thing that had been on his mind.
"Why did you choose us?" He asked, wondering what they had to offer to the Bronze. He wasn't bothered by the portal travel, or the abrupt nature of their introduction. He was rather impressed at the estate they would be living in, but other than that, only the one question remained.
She has her reasons, I'm sure. A voice spoke gently in his head, soft and sighing. It was a voice he had heard for many years now, one that he often talked with. The voice was that of a spirit, nicknamed Vi.
She is a Bronze, after all. They are rather odd creatures. Vi said.
'And you aren't?' Grish thought back.
Well, I am odd. Then again, so are you. Vi replied.

"Curse mah luck. Don't be seein' why I hafta go and give this to him!" The "unlucky" sentry muttered to himself as he made his way across the Echo Isles. Between his two fingers, he clutched a letter that was to be delivered to the "mad scientist" of the isles, Velitrem. It was just rotten luck that he drew that short straw. As he walked along, he began to picture what stange happenings were going to befall him once he reached his destination. There was an endless list of possiblities, all of which ended up with certain parts of him being harvested for ingredients.

His thoughts were interrupted when he arrived at a small hut on the outskirts of the isles. There was the odd moment when basic instinct was telling him to drop the letter and just flee, but he wouldn't hear the end of it if he turned coward. The rumors were..just rumors, after all. Hopefully. Steeling himself, he thumped a fist against his chest and resumed his walk straight up to the hut. His eyes glancing over the surrounding area, nothing seemed strange about it, in fact, it didn't look many bodies of animals alike were buried around at all. It was a relief to say the least.

The troll cleared his throat and spoke loudly trying to get the attention of the one residing in the hut. "Uhh, Velitrem, mon! Ye be gettin' a letter. I just be leav'n it right heah." His arm lifted, his shaking hand was extended and he attempted to place the letter in the crack of the hut's door. It would have been a success had the door not swung open almost immediately and he was greeted with the sight of..a normal looking troll.

------

Velitrem stood in the door gazing out at the sentry who apparently was having a bad case of the shakes. "What's dis about a letter, mon? Who be send'n me someting? Don't just stand dere mon, come in." He stepped aside to let the sentry pass and then closed the door behind him. A small grin crossing his lips as he noticed the other troll nervously standing there trying not to run away in terror.

"Lissen here, mon. I trust ya hearin' some of dem nasty rumors 'bout me, yeh? Espect dat's why ya be standin there about to pee on yaself bein' so scared and all. Too funny, look aroun ya. Do it be lookin' like I harvest people an' animals for mah work?" He lifted a hand and gestured around to the simple place he called home. There were plants, hundreds of species of plants stacked all over the place, jars filled with insects, water, honey, but no animal or human parts. "Now we got dat out da way, hand me dat letter."

He carefully took the letter and peeled it open, bringing it up close to his face so that he could read. Every once and a while he paused to say a word out loud before continuing on until he reached the end. "Strange, dem dragon folks in Tanaris be callin' ta me. Say dey be needin' me help. Figures dey be turnin' to da Horde when dey be needin' help." He nodded his head and tucked the letter into a pocket in his robes.

"So, ya be goin' den..to help da dragons?" The wide-eyed sentry asked of him.

(1/2)

"Ya mon, it's not everday ya be gettin asked to do tings like dat. If'n ya be headin back to da village, send a raptor for me, yeh? I bettah start gettin me things packed." He waved dismissingly to the sentry while walking to the corner of the room to retrieve his large packs. "Dis be good, dem dragons prolly know plenty of tings. Learn some recipes and find new tings to use." He muttered to himself as he began the long process of packing up all of his equipment and ingredients.

When all was done, he emerged from the hut with a rather large bag hoisted over his shoulder, a smaller satchel at his waist, and a mixing pot. The sun was already setting, he would have to ride through the night if he wanted to reach the caverns by the morning. A rustling noise caused him to turn his attention from the sky back to the ground, the raptor he requested was tied off to a small tree.

"Nice lookin' raptor, good pickin, bruddah." Velitrem muttered as he made his way over and tied his belongings off before hoisting himself up on the creature's back. "Right den, off ta da taverns we be goin'!" He nudged the raptor with a foot causing it to screech loudly before taking off in a brisk run.

---
The plan to arrive by the morning was in shambles as he had to stop along the way many times to collect some interesting herbs or something else that caught his attention. Neverthless, he still made it to the caverns in one piece. He hopped off his raptor just at the mouth of the cave gazing in awe at the structure. "Here we be. Time ta show the dragons the might o' da horde!" A pat on the raptor's back sent it running off back through the deserts headed for home.

Velitrem entered the caverns and was immediately escorted through by one of the bronze drakes. He at last came to an opening where he was greeted by a small Gnome. Once it began talking and informed them that she was the one who summoned them, it became clear that this was no regular Gnome. The troll shrugged and followed after Fyn as they were led around. He did take notice of the others that were obviously summoned along with him, horde..and alliance.

He hid his disgust at seeing people of the Alliance and simply followed the Gnome. A picked fight in the domain of the Bronze Dragonflight wasn't the smartest of things anyhow. Once they passed through the portal, he was immediately hit again by a sense of awe. Amazing, one minute there, the next minute here. "I gots ta be findin if deres a potion for dat." He muttered to himself while observing his new surroundings.

At the dismissal, he chose to wander off and find his room rather than stay and ask questions. He knew why he was here..or so he thought he did. It didn't take him long to find the door with his name on it, throwing it open, he stepped inside and shut it behind him. "Time ta settle in." And so he began to unpack his belongings, organizing all of his equipment to his satisfaction.

(2/2)

Rathios

"One hundred and forty-six pounds," Rathios said in a tone of supreme boredom as he inspected his close-bitten fingernails for something to chew on. "And thirty-four years old."

"You didn't even look at me you liar!" the human woman fumed as she looked up at Rathios as he leaned against the wooden support of his stall. The man who had accompanied her to the faire stepped away from her slightly and looked her up and down, as if Rathios' words were news to him. "I'm not lying, or would you like to step on the scale and prove me wrong?" Rathios continued in the same bored tone. The woman huffed a bit more, then turned and stomped off, her companion chuckling as he followed her.

Rathios sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He could really go for a drink. Or a smoke. Or a drink and a smoke. Yeah, that sounded nice.

There was a small, sudden pop and Rathios yelped in surprise as something landed heavily on his head before sliding off onto the counter next to him. Rathios rubbed his head and inspected the object, which turned out to be a small pouch. He reached down and opened it. Inside was a decent amount of gold. and a folded piece of paper. Rathios pulled the paper out and opened it curiously.

Mr. Rathios Everdawn,

I am in need of your assistance. No doubt the life of a carnival worker wears on you. Remember what you once were. Bribe your supervisor and gather your belongings. Find a mage that can teleport you near the Caverns of Time. I have made the necessary accommodations for you, you need not fear leaving behind your dependencies. For now, I know you function better with than without them.

I know I shall be meeting you soon,

-Fyndormi

"How mysterious..." muttered Rathios, running his thumb along his lower lip. Caverns of Time? That sounded familiar... he had read about it before. Rathios closed his eyes as he tried to connect the scattered memories. Dragons! That was it! Dragons lived there. But what on Azeroth did they want with him?

Rathios looked around at the faire. Children screamed and tugged at their mother's skirts, mothers ignored their children and ogled the actors and acrobats, disgusting lumps of mystery meat bubbled in pots to eventually be skewered and sold at inflated prices. Rathios looked down at his own wasted body: his patched clothes hanging limply from his pale frame, a gaudy apron tied around his waist, the mud caked on his shoes and smudged on his hands and pants... Rathios sighed and read the letter again. Remember what you once were.

A young elven girl walked uncertainly up to Rathios' stall, looking at the cheap toys that hung from the ceiling with obvious desire. Rathios tucked the letter into his pocket and reached up, pulling down a stuffed murloc and handing it to her with a smile. "You're my last customer, so you automatically win," he said, patting her head. She squealed in delight and ran off to show her mother, who scolded her for accepting gifts from dangerous vagabonds.

((1 of 2))

"DAMN THE SUN!!!!" Rathios screamed into the desert wind for the tenth time. He took a long drag from his thistle cigarette and stopped to cough and catch his breath. He had followed Fyndormi's instructions, but the closest a mage could port him was Gadgetzan. From there he had hitched a ride on the back of a caravan cart, but they veered west toward Uldum, leaving him with a several-hour walk ahead of him. "Light I need to get in shape," Rathios said after his lengthy coughing fit subsided. He looked out through his tinted glasses, and thought he saw a smudge on the horizon. He reached into his small wooden box of belongings and withdrew an arcane crystal. It was one of his last, and he hoped the Bronze would supply him quickly. He held it in his left palm, siphoning the arcane energies within using his right hand.

Feeling slightly refreshed, Rathios continued onward. He very nearly made it to the caverns on his own, but passed out from exhaustion and dehydration just short of his goal. Thankfully, a couple sentries had seen him coming for some time and winged out to his aid. One stood in his true form, providing shade with his wings while the other shrank into his elven form and coaxed Rathios back into consciousness with water and a bit of shaking. They carried him the rest of the way to the entrance of the Caverns, and deposited him, still a bit shaky, with the other mortals waiting to be shown to Fyndormi.

Rathios ignored the others and pulled a flask from his pocket, taking a swift swig to calm his nerves. As they were led around, he barely heard a thing that Fyndormi said, he was fascinated by the odd colors and strange sights to be seen within the caverns. When they walked through the portal and onto the island, his eyes were immediately drawn to the house they would be living in. He wanted to get away from the group and... recover a bit from his ordeal.

As soon as Fyndormi said they were free to go, he hurried upstairs and located the door with his name. He wrenched it open and placed his box of belongings on the table, pulling out another thistle cigarette. He lit it and took a few small puffs, finally looking around the room. it was richly furnished in a typical Silvermoon style. Round bed, dark hangings, rich colors, plush carpet. Rather than comfort him, the entire place caused a melancholy ache to pound in his chest. Rathios removed his tinted glasses and tried to massage away a sudden headache. That was then, this is now. Stop thinking about her!

Rathios shook his head, removed a half-empty bottle of liquor from his box and immediately began drinking himself into a stupor.

((2 of 2))

Zazdormu sat inside Valdemir Bolden’s room counting down the number of seconds until the greying mage walked through the door. 17, 16, 15, As he counted down Zaz recalled the last time he had called Valdemir to help him in the battle against the infinites. 14, 13, 12, he hadn’t wanted to go, Zaz had to drag him kicking and screaming through the portal and into old Stratholme. After he had reappeared through the portal Valdemir sent a fireball in his direction as he stepped through a portal of his own making that would take him back to Dalaran. 11, 10,9, Of course if he hadn’t been a master of the time ways, the fireball might have hurt him. However since he had known for a few hours that Valdemir would try and attack, it was a paltry task to side step a half second before the fireball was cast. 8, 7, 6, “what should I do to try and lure him into the timeways again?” Zaz thought to himself. “I’ve used the lines, you must save the planet to many times to have any effect on him, he has no family with which emotional blackmail would work on.” 5, 4, 3, the one thing he knew was that Valdemir Bolden would be helping to save the time ways. 2, 1, 0, “Hello Mr. Bolden, How was your fishing trip?”

Valdemir had spent his days at the pond in SW trying to learn how to fish. He had spent all day casting and failing to gain anything that eventually he froze the lake and chipped out a blocks of fish with which to hang. “Not text book fishing, but it’s a start,” Valdemir said to himself. As he climbed the stairs of his small apartment that overlooked the trade district, Valdemir wondered what a younger version of himself would say if he were to catch a glance of himself. With a mirthless chuckle, Valdemir muttered to himself “Im tired of war, all I want to do is rest.” Opening the door to his apartment, Valdemir’s heart skipped three beats when he heard “Hello Mr. Bolden, How was your fishing trip?”

Letting out a long string of curses, Valdemir fell on his face, unable to regain his equilibrium after his scare. Pushing himself of the ground, he saw the familiar high elf figure of the only bronze dragon that enjoyed pestering him, Zazdormu. His appearance could mean only one thing, trouble in the timelines. “No, No, No, No, No I will not and cannot go. I refuse, I deny, I don’t care about the new world ending time loop. Get out!” Valdemir shouted, as spittle sprayed from his frothing mouth. Zazdormu was about to speak when Valdemir again cut him off bellowing, “I thought the last time when I blasted you with a fireball was enough of a ending sign. It meant I wanted nothing more to do with your Time conundrums.”

As Valdemir took in a deep breath with which to continue his ranting, Zazdormu quickly knifed in “You never actually hit me, I sidestepped a second before you cast, but that’s beside the point. I knew you would never willingly come along; however I had to try and convince you with my words. As they have failed, I will leave.” Standing from his chair, Zazdormu headed towards the doorway. Without turning his back He finished by saying, “There is a letter on the chair, if after reading it, you find yourself still standing in your room not wanting to go, I will never contact you again.” Swiftly exiting the door Zazdormu couldn’t help but repress a smile as he heard the deadbolt slam into place. Speaking quietly to himself, Zazdormu said “Just as I knew would happen, Zazdormu 2, Mr. Bolden 0.” With that Zazdormu opened a rift in time and teleported himself back to the Caverns of Time, his mission complete.

Valdemir stood speechless. He had thought he would have had to rant for another hour before the pestering dragon would leave him alone this time. “Finally that damn dragon will leave me in piece, Maybe he left an apology for all the hours of my life I have thrown into his cause.” Valdemir muttered as he reached for the letter. Grabbing his letter opener, he slid it along the length of the envelope. Reaching his hand into the envelope Valdemir felt his hand touch parchment, and the room disappeared.

Moments later Valdemir found himself in the middle of a island on the steps of a large mansion. Quickly pulling out the letter, Valdemir mind bristled with righteous indignation at what the trickster had done. Reading the letter rage began to build within his body slowly reaching the edge of his control.

If you are reading this letter mister Bolden, then you are standing in the staging area for our foray into the time ways. As I said, if after you read this letter, you find yourself standing in your room not wanting to go, I shall never contact you again. Since however you are not in your room, I shall pester you for as long as your mortal heart beats!” Now that you are hear, you best be a good sport and save the world now you here?

(1/2)

What had she been thinking? Aelfdene honestly couldn't say, caught up in staring at the bizarre island. Nothing, she knew nothing about a “bronze flight,” and even less about the finer points of time travel. But the courier had been urgent, ready in moments to take off again, and the holy priestess had already packed in order to leave for Farstrider Retreat that very day. She had seen little harm in at least investigating such a plea, but could never have imagined the surreal island and more notably, the company she was expected to keep on it.

Humans? Dwarves? What on earth? Aelfdene's eyes flashed over each member of the party, sizing up her chances in combat and who she would run to first in the event of a brawl. The immediate option was the tauren, who looked just about as friendly as he sounded, but if the Horde had banded together based on terms of friendship, it would have dissolved just as soon as it began. Big, strong looking, a good touch of ruthlessness—that would be the prime meat shield to cower behind, or... perhaps it would be best to stay as far as possible. One could rarely tell with such creatures.

Next... someone more predictable, still big... yes, the orc was probably a better option. He has a more reasonable look about him and was decidedly more quiet. Yet he still wasn't a companion the blood elf considered a great one; the scars of battle were clear on this one, and the whole deal with orcs and honor... Aelfdene was already quite open to ridicule with her wide-eyed staring and did not need to take any chances.

The blood elf would have taken even more in, drinking up the faces and potential in like water, but a very important detail finally crashed into her brain.

No one was fighting. In fact, there wasn't even a hint of one, only curiosity that seemed to mirror hers. Her pale cheeks flushed at the sudden realization, one hand gently touching her forehead as she started to pay more attention to the gnome than her immediate fears. Unfortunately, she had missed much of the details she would have liked to know, only able to recall something about rooms and preventing some other thing with “flight” from messing with time. The priestess was still too young, too naive to grasp it all, and had even begun to wonder if the island and the courier himself weren't anything less than some bizarre conspiracy of the Alliance.

Knees buckling, Aelfdene put on a taught visage, trying to appear indifferent and unconcerned with the fact that she was surrounded by strangers that appeared to have nothing to do with the betterment of her kind. If her voice had retained some degree of strength, she might have spoken questions as the others had, and if she had also retained some stability in her legs, she might have also wandered around to see what manner of magic was going on.

But as it was, Aelfdene knew she was at a severe disadvantage and needed to at least grasp onto some semblance of courage. She was not about to prove her ignorance among others who seemed to have a far better understanding than she, and instead remained silent and steady at her place in the back of the group. And the more she thought of it, she wouldn't even have to clarify what was going on by conversing with the gnome... perhaps the courier was somewhere outside, still waiting in case she changed her mind...