"What is this SMELL?"

Pero'than's voice echos back across the canyon. The lava pool covering half the valley had four slabs of solidified magma floating on it, in what was roughly a diamond shape. The smell was sulpher, mixed with death. Pleasant. In the distance, he could make out a distant shape impaled on a large tower.

Pero'than frowned. Was that the dragon who CREATED the dragon soul, his beloved master's key into this world? Impossible... yet...

Removing such distractions from his mind, the satyr looked across the molten field at an almost ghostly figure, standing on the farthest platform. One of those lesser beasts from the forest, he knew, but this one has a look of intelligence in his eyes. Or her, Pero'than thought, one never knows with these brutes.

Hopping from the shore to the first volcanic slab, Pero'than lost his footing and slipped into the lava beneath. Dragging himself up quickly, he noticed that it seemed to stick to his furred hands, albeit painfully. He noted this and moved on to the second rock, adjacent to the one his primal opponent.

"Pero'than, formerly of the Highborne, now of the Burning Legion, fights against what remains of Baine Bloodhoof, fallen chieftain of the Bloodhoof tribe and the tauren for the Horde. Witnessing this battle is Chromie of the Bronze Dragonflight, gender unknown, and Tirion Fordring, an extremely bored and pret- OK, who wrote this cue card?"

Disguising his snickering as a cough (if only due to the presence of the bronze dragon), glanced over to two figured he somehow missed before. The one who spoke has odd pink skin, grey-white hair, and armor that glowed a yellow almost as bright as the protective shield around him. A second creature, half the height of Tirion, was maintaining the shield. Pero'than sensed that attacking them would be suicide, and since they seemed content with just watching, he ignored them.

Leaping and landing on the rock with the beast - Baine, he remembered - Pero'than dips his claws in the lava and begins a punch filled with the raw power of molten earth. But the tauren has tricks of his own. Stepping back to dodge the blow, Baine dips his axe in the pool behind him and slashes at his opponent, slicing tufts of satyr hair off Pero'than's chest, and leaving a trail of smoke sprouting from the shortened fur.

Pero'than notices a shift in Baine's footing, and steps to the side to avoid hiss obvious kick. That would have worked well, except that the kick wasn't aimed at Pero'than, it was aimed at the extremely fragile rock beneath both of them.

The rock shatters.

Feeling the lava flowing around him, knowing that even a few seconds could do serious damage, he swims to the nearest rock and drags himself up at the same time Baine reaches it. Pero'than readies another flaming punch, but Baine slams him first with the full might of his totems, sending him flying back among the floating rock that was the last platform. Realising it might be better to stay away from Baine until the lava drips clean, Pero'than swims to the rock opposite Baine, and climbs up.

"This was supposed to be an easy fight!" Pero'than roars. "You're just a filthy animal." As if to prove his point, Baine snorts and paws the ground with his hoof.

"Now you will KNOW POWER!"

Pero'than's magic lifts Baine up as he begins to consume the apparition. But as luck would have it, he lost his footing and fell to one knee, shattering his concentration. Realizing his mistake, Pero'than fades into the shadows, and sends out his demonic eyes to search for the ghost, who seemingly vanished along with him.

Baine suddenly appears, though not die to his magic. He shatters the platform beneath Pero'than's feet, bringing renewed agony as lava burns skin already burnt. Feeling weak, Pero'than swims to the only platform not yet used (the one closest to shore).

"This filthy animal says hi."

Once more, the full force of Baine's totems slam into Perothan, knocking him back to the molten debris. Searing pain engulfs Pero'than, who knew that he spent much longer than is healthy in the lava. He blacks out.

-----------

"Will this affect the past?" Tirion asks his draconic companion.

"Not at all. He won't remember a thing." Chomie replied. "Let's head back to your present so you can run this tounament. I'm curious to see how this turns out, even though I already know."

Tirion rolls his eyes as the Black Dragonshrine of the future - the grim, chaotic future of Deathwing's desires - fades.

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