End Time – a short story

[Loosely based off my wonderful guildies]

Seargent Thunderspank pushed his helment visor up in stunned disbelief, the terminally belligerent mage had done it again. He heard it before he saw it, the whispered mutterings in an arcane tongue that hurt his head whether they were directed at him or his foes, and then a whistling blur of arcane energy that made a beeline for the dragonkin’s bottom, spread across it with an impressive crackle and disappeared with a fizz.

They had quietly snuck up on the patrol of Dragonkin near the everburning shattered remains of Wyrmrest Temple, pools of lava bubbled in the distance, the boundary between the lava and Deathwing’s blood on the walls and base of the temple indistinct. This was an unfamiliar world, a future that may have been and yet may come to be true. They had come here at the Bronze Aspect’s request for assistance. Their mortal coil enabling them to affect a change the Father of Time himself could not.

There was a cacaphony of roars as the large reptiles, now extremely hungry and interested which is never a good combination when you’re facing dragonkin, spun as one to face their group.

“Oh shit” thought Fayeth the priest as she praised the light for her foresight in picking a transmog set that included brown pants. Tacticus the druid was true to his name and tactically choose to stay in stealth as opposed to certain immediate consumption by dragon. He would have been even more tactical had a druid sized bush conveniently presented itself. Vishous the elemental shaman wondered for a brief moment if her name had been a cosmic joke on her – a description of her would be chefs instead of her own temprament. Sweetnsticky, an unfortunate coincidence in naming as to how dragons like their meals, giggled and said “Ooops! Blonde moment!”

Thunder’s mind moved slowly… it always did when he wasn’t fighting. But he clung on to the familiarity in this situation in this strange new world – some things never changed. There was only one thing to do… as the leading Dragonkin opened it’s maw and prepared to sear them, he raised his burnished shield which was in top repair thanks to Sweetnsticky’s generosity with guild funds, and charged into the fray yelling like a madman. In a brief moment of lucid thought he wondered why those at the forefront of battle were usually the ones with the lowest intellect…

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