Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a group of good friends were sitting around a campfire. It had been a hot day but the evening embraced the humanoids with a warm embrace; the only purpose the campfire had was to shed a little bit of a light. The little light that the campfire provided was more then enough for the group to enjoy their drinks and enjoy their stories. Stories of battles and victories, losses and defeat. Everyone was relaxed, except for the casters of the group. They had felt a distortion in their Magic. The distortion came not from what had happened but it came from that which still had to come. The magic users sought isolation from the group to speak. Quickly they understood what the distortion meant. Soon the Lands of Fire would open up and would spread its rage over Azeroth. 

Boys and girls, ladies and gentleman, I wanna thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have not only granted me the honor to collect the legendary staff for you, but you have also granted me an amazing half year of Firelands raiding. The road has been extremely rough, we had people leave and we had people join. Our officers team has changed, our raiders have changed and our socials have changed. Thanks to those that have been with us for so long and thanks to those that have been us for only a little while. Thanks to those that cared.

 

The Destroyer, Aspect of Death, The Worldbreaker. We will challenge him. We are ready for him. Will you, my friends, join me once more?