User:For Whom the Bell Tolls

For Whom the Bell Tolls is an extreme lore junky, thus making Wowwiki his "dealer."Besides being a walking database and reading tons of lore, he writes it. He has two fan fictions, both posted on Wowhead.com in the lore and roleplaying forums. The first is completed, called Time of Death, and is about Nozdormu and the Infinite Dragonflight. The second is called Overlapping Shadows and is not yet completed, and is about Sylvanas Windrunner after the death of The Lich King.

He also roleplays a bit. Mostly in forums.

= Roleplaying Characters =

Ayedin Rye
Name: Ayedin Rye

Title: The Frozen Hearted

Faction: Forsaken, though does not approve of Horde/Alliance War. Also loyal to the Knight's of the Ebon Blade and the Argent Crusade, as he was in Acherus and was once a Knight of the Silver Hand.

Race: Undead Class: Death Knight

Description: Ayedin Rye's appearance. Very well built for his age, despite being about forty five years old. His skin is incredibly pale, like a corpses, for obvious reasons. He has no hair, caused by his death. However, he wears a dark hood.

Personality: Ayedin has an incredibly dark sense of humor, and seemingly limitless patience. Everything he does is calculated, and he is always calculating the best outcome in any situation. Since his death, he has adopted a very "ends justify the means" attitude, always going for what he sees (and he puts a lot of thought into it) to be the greater good. He will then do anything necessary to achieve it, including once killing a hostage child to avoid ten crusaders walking into a trap and dying.

Alignment: Neutral Good. This is the greatest simplification of his creed, what I would prefer to call him is Moral Evil. He is not good in the traditional fashion, such as having not given a single thought to honor since his death. He would kill, and he would take no pains in killing, or torturing, or whatever means necessary, and thus is evil. Yet when he does so, he does it only for the greater good. He will carefully calculate consequences and choose the one which hurts the least amount of people.

History: Ayedin Rye was a member of the well known Rye family, a prominent family in both Gilneas and Lordaeron, and a member of the Knight's of the Silver Hand. He was a kindhearted paladin and always willing to help those in need, however very rarely thought through the consequences of his actions. He went on rampage after seeing his king, Terenas Menethil, die by Arthas's hand during the fall of Lordaeron, killing scores of undead before he was finally put to rest by a powerful necromancer. This same necromancer also placed the curse of undeath upon Ayedin, and he rose as a powerful Death Knight.

His power allowed him to quickly rise through the Scourge's ranks, until he became a lieutenant of Kel'thuzad. However, it was soon discovered that he had retained his hatred for the Scourge even in death. He did only as he was commanded to, thus forced to, and nothing more. This was a great annoyance to Kel'thuzad who had him transferred to Acherus, where it would soon be revealed that he would be sacrificed to bring Tirion Fordring out of hiding. During the Battle of Light's Hope Chapel, he would regain his will in the event known as the Light of Dawn.

His hammer had shattered during his rampage, and he forged himself a new rune axe during his time in the Scourge. He had kept it unnamed, but as soon as the newly formed Knight's of the Ebon Blade swore revenge on the Lich King, he named it Dark Justice. He named it this because, even though it would not be in a glorious display of light overcoming shadow, he would have his revenge. He was not unchanged, and his previous warmhearted self was replaced by a cold, calculated, killing machine who would fall to any level for the greater good. Because of this, they realized his heart was in the right place, but it was cold as ice. Thus, they dubbed him Ayedin the Frozen-Hearted.

He found more in common with his old friends from Lordaeron and the Forsaken, and they had his pity, so he sided with them rather then rejoining the living in Stormwind. He finds the war between the Alliance and the Horde petty and unnecessary, a giant game played by pouting children who have held onto grudges that could have long ago been made void. Grudges go against his creed of not letting pride or honor get in the way of the greater good.

= Fan Fictions =

Time of Death, the Prolouge
''A massive entity strode across the sands at a leisurely place. Time is of no matter in this place. His thundering footsteps were muffled by the sands underneath his huge powerful talons. His talons were pitch black, marking them from the rest of his body. His body was cloaked with a faint golden aura, that had been dulled in time, in both color and intensity. The scales that adorned his wonderful hide matched this color, as if the aura was simply their reflection of light. His great wings folded across his back, so that his massive form could fit through the corridor.''

''As he strode, he looked upon the settings of the place he roamed. To any other than he, they would have been truly strange, even disconcerting. Below him lay sands that stretched on forever, a desert maze which never stretched into the infinite. Around him he saw things buried around in the sand. Of course they weren't really their... But at the same time they were. He saw the top of a ruined tower. It's stone was white as pearl, and was adorned by a large blue banner with the image of a golden lion head placed upon it. The lower left corner of the banner was in flames. The fire burned, though it never seemed to consume anything.''

''He also saw an immense statue, only the very bottom buried underneath the sands. It depicted a monster with the beautiful face of a fair elf. It's head was a brilliantly detailed picture of a beautiful elf, except that where graceful white hair should be, it was replaced by four serpents of stone. Despite that they were inanimate, one could imagine with scary ease that they were writhing beasts, sniffing the air around them in search for their next meal. Her torso was also that of an elven maiden, exceptionally shapely as well. However, it's beauty was defiled by the fact that it was covered in a mixture of flesh, and scales, and that it had two sets of arms. Not like the scales of the being watching it, even on a colorless statue one could see they were a ominous green of the deep. She had no legs at all, replaced instead by a massive serpentine tail, coiled around herself. With her four arms, she held a massive ring, with occasional blades jutting from it's ring. It encircled her, though it was held behind her.''

''He knew exactly what had happen to cause these structures to have existence, to be. He knew every last event, down to the smallest of happenings, that had led to those events. He was there. Though to say he remembered them would be wrong. He remembered them, experienced them, and predicted them all at once. When he looked upon it, he did not only see them as you would, but he saw them in every aspect they had ever been in. He saw the statue be erected, as well as being burned, and then it summoned the Naga Atoph. He saw the tower being built, being used. A young couple who's parents did not allow them marriage crept atop it, and stayed together in secret. He saw the Orcs of Gul'Dan come down upon it, destroying it's bricks and lighting aflame the banner. He saw it being rebuilt by the humans, who in turn he saw later taking up the dagger and clothing themsleves in red.''

''He looked to the sky. Instead of seeing the usual clouds and sun, their was a night sky, brightened by the stars. Far more stars then usually seen... It was as if every star in time had been collected and placed onto the same sky. In fact, you could almost convince yourself you saw the same star twice, except from a different time, as they moved through the years. He could see beyond the stars as well... But there was nothing. The great dark, the endless void, the nothingness. It seemed as if there was a bottomless pit of pure blackness, veiled by a white blanket of stars.''

He crept along, emotionless as he watched the time line.

Time of Death, the First Chapter
''A massive behemoth stood motionless, his eyes, the beautiful elderly color of rusted copper, blinked now and again. He acknowledged nothing around him, intently staring upon that which was not there. His pupils traveled steadily across his eyes, as if it were a planet eclipsing a sun, and when it reached the end, just as slowly crept back across. The creature was beautiful, though not dazzling. He was dull, though not in the way you would think. It's beauty was in it's subtlety. It's scales did not gleam bright gold as they did when he was young, though to be fair he still is young, at the same time of being old. Instead, the scales were a dull flecked bronze. He had the beauty of an ancient gnarled tree.  His pupil ran across his eyeball once more, scanning the time that was, looking for flaws that could bring them to an unwanted alternate future, then suddenly darted back to a somewhat forward position, allowing him to see properly. With a silent satisfaction, he turned towards the mouth of the cave, and lifted his massive claws one after another, slowly treading towards the mouth of this particular cavern. As they moved, the light, there without any source to provide it, reflected off of his magnificent jet black talons. Each step should have caused a massive echo throughout the caves, but was muffled by the sand that stretched infinitely throughout the caverns. As he stepped forth from the cavern, he came upon a cliff. Off of the cliff was a tunnel, looking much like the one he had occupied previously, only larger. He spread his massive wings, and leaped from the cliff. With a single flap, he caught himself and soared silently through the caverns and caves. Through these caves, he had become a master of flying in closed areas, only bested by his adamantium clad kin of the depths. He has become corrupt, he is being corrupted, he was corrupt, and he will be corrupt. It was all the same to the massive winged being.''

''The sands of time had swallowed many artifacts from the timeline, where they rested here and now. Any other would seem them in a single form, however the great being of bronze scales saw them in all their aspects at a single time. He saw building, destruction, burning, marring, rebuilding, all on the same structure. He marveled at these magnificent achievements the mortal races had accomplished as he flew over them, silent as possible.''

''He came down upon his chamber. It was no different from any other, but it was void of all artifacts. The sand was the same color, and it was high and wide enough to give him sufficent space to do as he pleased, being as large as he was. He walked in, then stretched his wings as wide as he could. He folded them once more, and lay down as he curled around his own body to sleep. He would not dream, that was the kingdom of another being such as he, though of magnificent bright green scales and not as much size. He was about to drift off, when suddenly a monstrous voice echoed through his mind, hoarse like a whisper. It said one blunt sentence, with no emotion. "You will die."''

''The timeless one's eyes shot open, and a shiver ran up his body, he arched his back, feeling as if he might be attacked. He was suddenly jolted into the single vision he could not see past. The mortal races of Azeroth stood around him, battered and broken, though still alive. Their weapons were covered in fresh blood drying. He would look around, and notice his scales littering the floor. There was pools of blood everywhere. His vision slowly dimmed, until it faded to nothing, as he entered the void. Those three words formed the most fear inspiring sentence he could hear. ''

Time of Death, the Second Chapter
''The timeless being observed the timeline as always, though there was something that dragged at his thoughts. He had, will, and is, hearing a voice. It was dark and powerful, horrible to behold. Perhaps it had been his own consciousness, preying on the curse of the High Father. No, it was, is, and had been far too foreign for that. Disturbed, the bronze scaled being continued to act with his normal indifference, a byproduct of being practically omnipotent, though he was distracted. He gazed upon the mortals of Azeroth and their foolishness, altering things here and mending things there. He saw his second in command, and his heir, send adventures back to the Battle of Mount Hyjal. Azgalor the Pit Lord would alter the timeline in an unsavory fashion if he escaped to the Twisting Nether. He needed to be destroyed. Thrall and the adventures managed to plunge their weapons into the living furnace of hate, completely destroying him this time. The being showed neither discontent nor satisfaction, simply acknowledging the event as it recurred. He nodded his head and his wings unfolded once more, as they had will and are, and flew.'' '' As he flew, suddenly something went wrong. The cold presence of doom entered his mind once more, and he shivered midflight. He immediately started to land, fearful of what might happen. Then he heard the second whisper. "Your allies will betray you."''

''He landed harshly, pain rippling through his ankles. A crash flooded through the chambers, but he barely noticed it. He was enticed by the voice. He shook violently, for the first time displaying and constant emotion. He was scared.''

''His mind flashed again to his dying day. The mortals stood around him, ten in number. He looked at them, and though blurred saw a hint of recognition. He noticed that they were all from different time periods, as if the time line had been altered and now it has rebelled against its master. He shook uncontrollably, and fell into a troubled slumber. ''

Time of Death, the Third Chapter
''The being knew now. This was not the thoughts of his disturbed conscious. There was something in his chambers. Something dark, and seemingly omnipotent. It did not have any physical form it seemed, and haunted him constantly. This being was most certainly on the path to an undesirable timeline, and must be stopped. It could even be his early death...  He gazed upon the time line. His ever expansive mind contracted to a single thought, of this singular being, so that me might scan through and find it quickly. But the harder he looked, the less he found. He stared at the invisible sheet of destiny that appeared before him, and saw only blurred colors flickering among an immense void. As soon as he focused upon a flicker, it would enlarge, giving him hope he had found something, then it's fibers would expand to the point of nothingness and there would be void once more. These beings seemed to exist outside the universe of the Titans, as if they were older than time itself. As he searched the time line, he thought he heard faint whispers. They were much akin to what he had heard, though of different topics. He caught a glimpse of an immense Dragon, twice the size of even the great metallic hued dragon, plated in metals that crashed against each other when he moved, heating glowing the orange of the inner earth, as if they were the tectonic plates of a world within the massive beast. He saw a group of purple skinned humanoids, being ripped through the depths of a ravaging underwater twister. He saw one, of fairer face than anything he had ever seen, and he saw it slowly be coated in scales, it's hair turn to snakes. He saw a golden king, seemingly made of bright bronze, draped in blue and white armor and clothing, stand above a forge, though it was unlike any mortal forge. It was embedded the lights of the universe, avatars of the stars, and the room pulsed with the makers energy. He held no hammer, and it seemed to work of it's own accord, as beings small of stature but strong of arm, forged of dark metal and bathed in runes, stepped forth from it ready to serve.''

''With that it was decided, that this being must be stopped at any cost. ''

Time of Death, the Fourth Chapter
''The timeless one had finally solved the mystery. He knew what these beings were. They were what the Creators had left them for, to protect this seedling world from corruption. They were the Old Gods, and they would turn the mortals against their protecters. This was about more than him, this was about the fate of the entire world.''

''His children would not believe him. They were blind fools, who followed the timeline like slaves, knowing not why. If the hourglass of eternity had been corrupted, and lead to their dooms, their was no sense in following it longer. No, for this he needed something greater. A perfect hammer, for repairing the world's armor to it's original state. However, before something can be smithed, it must be molten. He would be the fire that purges this world, and the hammer that reshapes it. Indeed, one of his old kin had attempted such a thing, albeit for a darker purpose. His means would prove useful however. Nozdormu flew through the timeless caves and caverns, with their grey stones looming, as if sternly nodding to him. The sand seemed to flow beneath his wings, following him. He was doing the right thing. There was no other action that could be taken.''

''He neared upon one of the many mouths of the caverns, and landed with the sound of thunder through near-deaf ears. He walked forward confidently, and as he did, his figures morphed. The lines that distinguished one scale from the other, and eventually they became a single hard bronze shell, slowly softening, and the color lightened and soon became the fleshy peach. His entire body shortened, and his forelegs incredibly so, and soon he was standing on two legs. His face retreated into itself, and eventually it became the flattish face of a High Elf. He stood before a circular room, with a small platform in the middle, stairs leading up to it. It was surrounded by four pillars of red hues, that faded to grey as they reached towards the ceiling. In the back of the space, there was five doorways, encircled by spinning runic rings adorned with dragon heads. One black, one red, one green, one blue, one darkish yellow. Two beings with respective colors guarded each door. They were much like he, except that instead of long powerful neck, they have a humanoid torso. They wielded double bladed spears, made of a single shade of stainless steel. The High Elven formed being strode slowly towards the dark yellow entryway. Had he looked back, he would no longer have seen the golden sands of the caverns. Where that had once stood there was now a deep gray path, wider than the timeless one in his full form, surrounded by sheer cliffs of freezing ice and storms of flurrying ice and snow. The path was strangely not covered in rime.'' '' He entered the room, with a curt bow from the drakonids guarding it. He hadn't left them yet, this was before then. Time is much more linear outside the depths of the timeless ones home. He came upon a more massive room, with small islands of stone dotting a desert sea of sand. In the center stood the massive Chrozdormu, the egg keeper of the Bronze dragons. He acknowledged the High Elf with a shallow bow, a deeper one was difficult in dragon form. The timeless one paid him no mind. There was no objection when he picked up two of the massive eggs, cradling them to his body not to drop them. He had charged Chrozdormu with the task in the first place. Then the body enlarged once more to become a dragon, holding the eggs delicately between his jaws, but before it did it became more and more faded, until you could see right through him. Then suddenly disappeared from the room altogether.''

''His outline took shape, and soon his body materialized upon a dark desert, the stone floor black as onyx. The sky glowed a deathly green, and magma of the same color flowed in rivers across the land. He walked across the fields, and came upon a small secluded cave. Here he laid the eggs down. It would take time, that was for sure, but time was of no matter to him. The eggs would hatch, and they would mate. Their children would mate, and their children, until a new race was formed, in the depths of this dark disc of a planet. As their race progressed, they would be infused with the chaotic energies of the Nether. They would become powerful, and have the necessary chaotic elements to disregard the timeline. He viewed the eggs. Soon they would become immense and pitch black, with the brightness of stars adorning their skin in bolts of lighting. He carved draconic writing upon the wall, which any dragon could read, telling them of the Old God's and why they must be stopped. And upon this wall, he christened them, and they would become known as the Infinite Dragonflight.''

Time of Death, the Fifth Chapter
''"Darkness is spreading." The mass of dull gold scales had become used to the seemingly omnipotent whispers that plagued his mind, foretelling his doom and besieging his very sanity. One hoarse voice after another bombarded his consciousness, until they all seemed to blend into a single symphony of madness. If he concentrated he could decipher one or two of the shadowy prophecies out of the consistent whispers.''

''He acknowledged this particular statement, and found it rang true. Since the curse of flesh, the inhabitants of the world had slowly been corrupted by the two great enemies of the Titans. The Legion and the Old Ones. Certain beings of these are the outliers among their minions and creations, and if there was to be an uprising against the protectors of the world, the threats must be nullified. Powerful as they may be, they will die if struck when they are weak. Fortunately, when is always for the timeless one.  He knew that he has to interfere with time as little as possible while still accomplishing what he must. The threats must be destroyed in a place where it is likely that they would have been, though succeeded. His rusted copper green eyes flickered, looking at time and space as if through a single stationary window, and settled upon an event.''

''He viewed a tall human figure, with bright yellow hair that almost seemed to be golden. He wore a white breastplate and white armored leggings as well as boots, with a golden trim that matched his hair. On one shoulder was a small well made shoulder-plate, mainly blue with the same golden trim. On his other shoulder, his right, the crest of his fathers kingdom, a fancily written L, pinned a blue cloak to his back. In his left hand he carried a large heavy tome, with a hammer inscribed with writing upon it's cover. In his right there was a large hammer, a polished iron head gleaming silver, again trimmed with gold. The long handle was golden, but wrapped in leather dyed a blue.''

''He ran from door to door, bashing each one in as he crossed it. As he did he would yell into it, screaming, "You are passed redemption!" At each, he met one of two things. A group of corpses, barely humanoid, lumbering towards him with jaws agape and deathly unnatural glowing yellow eyes staring hungrily at him, or a crowd of shocked humans huddling together fearfully. He killed both with the same passion, the same unflinching swing of his hammer, the same look on his face as he heard bones crumble underneath his hammers weight, that could almost be read as satisfaction.''

''Nozdormu smiled. He would meet more than ill men at the next house. Under the command of his lieutenant Chrono-Lord Epoch, and the Infinite Corrupter, the jet black dragons marched into the city from everywhere and nowhere, bright white patterns of lightning bolts glinting as they walked. ''

Time of Death, the Sixth Chapter
''The infinite one sent his chaotic dragons across the timeline, fighting for control over the mortals whose power had reached to far, until it rivaled that of the immortals sent to guard them. They did not understand. They lacked the perfection of the Titans, their flaw deeply inset in their dark curse that haunts them even now. To put such power in their hands is suicide. At first he targeted those who would lead such an uprising against the makers, Arthas Menethil before he became the monster that plagued the planet. Medivh, his soul being eaten away at by Sargeras, as he opens the gateway to tragedy. Slowly it came to include simply any who gained significant power and changed the course of the future. Soon his dragons flooded the time ways, attempting to destroy anyone or anything that could cause threat. An attempt on Deathwing as he creates the Dragon Soul. An attempt on Tyrande to ensure Illidan never leaves his cage. An attempt on Kel'thuzad so that Archimonde is never summoned to the world. An assault on Ner'Zhul while he takes upon himself the Skull of Gul'Dan, and that failing, on Gul'Dan himself. Garrosh Hellscream, the soon to be fel orc who would cause great war. Soon his attacks were set on targets that were less evil. The great shaman Thrall, as he attempts to save his people. Enslaved or not, they do not belong on this world, and it is better than the loss of life on both sides that would follow. Or at least that's how he justified it to the questioning infinites. His usual calm indifference was soon replaced by frustration accompanied by great roaring. He reared up at his defeats, opening his wings wide, and let forth a terrible noise that shook the caverns to their cores.  The chorus of maddening whispers that constantly played through his mind grew louder, flooding the walls of his sanity, pressing upon them, until they would finally shatter under the pressure. He found less and less need to justify his attacks with each new assault, simply telling the infinites that it was for the best. As he watched his infinites die, he realized that they would surely kill whoever was responsible. He groaned. He sent out infinites to nearly every hero, no matter what his actions, who had the power to significantly change history. Malfurion, Broxigar, Fordring, Cenarius, Doomhammer... For he knew but one thing. The uprising had begun.''

Time of Death, the Seventh Chapter
"You death is imminent." Cackled the voice in his head.

''The war was no longer ranging in the events of Azeroth, but in the caverns that time was interwoven with themselves. Imagine time was a woven scarf with each separate thread being the life of some person or thing, and the entire scarf where they are all interwoven the time line. Now imagine you took that scarf, and wrapped it around a circular room. The circular room would be the caverns of time, able to access any point in history at their whim.''

''The black and bright white shades of the infinites melded with the bright and dull bronzes of the dragons in a massive battlefield. Truly massive, because in it was pitted every dragon on both sides that had, will, or could ever exist. When one fell it was simply replaced by the same being, but from another scenario in time. The war could last literally forever, and thus it was named the Eternity War. There was the occasional mortal, a Dragonsworn to the timeless one or the Infinites here or their, some adventurers the bronze had recruited to help them. Whether or not they still lived, they fought in this battle.  But he who is both ancient and young knew they were coming. He could feel it. See it even. Poor misguided souls, they knew not what they did. They would commit the worst crime the world has ever seen. They would doom them all. So, when they arrived in his chamber, beaten and bruised he was not surprised. He lay there, after spending so much time with the infinites he had absorbed some of their powers. His dull bronze scales were darkening, 'till they were almost as black. and the same white lightning crackled across his astral like hide. He let out a massive roar, and the battle ensued. From his maw shot lightning, the power that Aman'thul had invested within him, and from his claws and teeth blood was drawn. He seemed impossible to wound, because every time you got near him he would alter the timeline, make it so you were somewhere that he could not be reached, or something had happened between then and now. Broxigar's wooden axe fell, only to meet the purple portal of Dalaran, with Nozdormu standing inside. Aegwynn's spell fizzled out of reality as she realized that she had been interrupted to have to defend herself from Nozdormu's lightning, which he shot before she cast the spell. It was incredibly confusing for the mortals. Suddenly, the ground ripped from under Krasus, as the power of the Sundering ripped him in three. But alas, Nozdormu was firing no bullets. He knew the outcome of this... He would die. He simply was giving one last attempt, as if his immense willpower could bend fate itself. He knew not who struck the final blow, but eventually he lay, unable to change the time line once more. He coughed... A wave of blood splattered the floor.''

''"You know not what you're doing..." he spoke, staring at them in disbelief. "You are heralding the end of this world! Stay your hand, before it's too late! The Old God's have corrupted you, they want me destroyed! I am the final line of defense! All I have done, it was to save you!" He screeched.  Alexstraza alighted beside him, and smiled sadly. "I think not, poor misguided kin of mine." And she opened her mouth wide. As the intense flames of the red dragonflight, in slow motion as if moving through water, came forth to him, his mind cleared, and he saw what had happened. He gasped, reeling. Then smiled in acceptance. "I have been such a fool..." Then the flames bathed him, as he let forth a long sigh. And thus, the thread in the time line that was Nozdormu, the timeless one, was cut, the final chapter had been written.''