Ultimately, the Battle for Theramore Isle had ended without a single casualty… without even a single shot fired. Hell, to pretty much everyone else, there hadn't really even been a battle, merely a tense standoff that had ended peaceably enough.

But for Rognak, who knew exactly how things could have gone, it was so much more than that. His memories told him what likely would have happened if Daelin Proudmoore had actually been at the helm of the Kul Tiran Fleet. And with Jaina pregnant with his child, it might have even been worse than what those memories said would have occurred.

All in all, having learned what happened to the man from Jaina after all was said and done, Rognak felt oddly lucky and also a little guilty over his relief at the Lord Admiral's predicament. He also suspected that 'Acting' Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore would not be merely 'Acting' for long. He found himself agreeing with Jaina's prognosis that Daelin probably wasn't going to be ABLE to recover if there was really nothing more that the Tidesages of Kul Tiras could do for him.

He might not be dead yet, but Kul Tiras' bedridden Lord Admiral probably wasn't long for this world, and in the interim, he certainly wasn't in any position to lead the island nation as he had previously. Was it bad that that just might be the best outcome that he and Jaina could hope for?

… At the same time, Rognak finds himself pondering some of his memories from his other life. Specifically, he finds himself thinking about the parts of the game that had focused on Kul Tiras and its troubles. If Katherine did become Lord Admiral in truth in this world as she had in his memories, then Rognak suspected she would experience the same problems and the same shit that he recalled happening in a future 'Fourth War' that he felt was never going to happen this time around.

But even still, much of that was over ten years away still. A lot of it didn't need to be handled right this moment. Rognak wasn't about to leave Jaina's mother to deal with all of that shit on her own, and he suspected Jaina would want to step in and handle certain individuals like the duplicitous Lady Ashvane with her own two hands once he told her about the conniving woman. But with Jaina in her current state, he wasn't about to stress her out anymore than she already was. Best to leave it be for the time being.

Still, all was well that ended well right? Though, given what he just got done thinking about, it was never truly over. This wasn't even close to the 'end'. They'd come to a point where much of Rognak's knowledge was becoming more and more… degraded. He hated to say 'useless' because that wasn't ever going to be fully the case, but there was simply too much drift between the world he lived in now and the world he'd played as a video game.

And yet… that did not mean Azeroth was at peace. Nor that every possible enemy they could face was beaten. Not by a long shot. Azeroth was a Death World. And not only were its own denizens exceedingly dangerous and deadly on a rapidly accelerating scale in their own right, but it was also the treasure that the Burning Legion's Master sought. The Dark Titan Sargeras would stop at nothing to one day reach Azeroth's World Soul and with the loss of key individuals like Illidan Stormrage, it would fall to the rest of them to make sure he didn't succeed in his goals.

Even beyond the Legion though, Azeroth had suffered its way through one calamity after the other in the years to come. And Rognak had only dealt with some of those threats. The Lich King might be gone and the Scourge nothing more than a disorganized rabble of undead slated for destruction, but that was only the beginning. Likewise, Kael'thas, Illidan, and Vashj had never gone on to Outlands. What their absence would mean for that dying world, Rognak had no clue. And finally, the Nightmare Lord had been defeated.

The Emerald Dream was clear in a way Rognak knew it had not been in a long, long time. The Emerald Nightmare itself probably wasn't entirely gone and would not be for as long as the Old Gods continued to lurk across the face of Azeroth, entrenched in the world's surface like a bunch of festering pustules. But there was no denying that the Dream was doing better than it had been in a long, long time. Without Xavius' constant presence in the background, the Old Gods would need to find new servants to infiltrate the Dream going forward.

Also, Rognak had to wonder… with Kael'thas and his Blood Elves not being there to conquer Tempest Keep and send the Draenei in a frenzied panic hurtling towards Azeroth, would the exiled fragment of the Eredar Race ever come to be on Azeroth at all? Maybe they would still find their way to Azeroth, but without the Blood Elves to sabotage the Exodar's engine, it was entirely possible they would go elsewhere… maybe even linking up with the Army of Light.

Rognak didn't know what the Draenei's fate would be in this new version of events, though privately he thought it might be best if they never arrived on Azeroth. He was a little biased in that regard though. Convincing Katherine Proudmoore to set aside the grief and anger over the loss of her oldest son to the first Horde was one thing. But somehow managing to convince the surviving Draenei to let bygones be bygones and ignore the fact that the Horde had individuals who had actively played a part in such atrocities as the 'Path of Glory'… that was another matter entirely.

To be clear, Rognak believed every word he'd said to Katherine Proudmoore about the bright future of the Horde under Thrall's leadership. He just had to make sure that Thrall didn't toss the position of Warchief to the first fucking spunky young orc who came along with a glint of ambition in his eye. Or worse, hand it over to a fucking banshee of all things. Yes, Rognak knew that second one wasn't technically Thrall's doing. But the orc had facilitated it through his actions all the same.

Privately, the orc druid intended to keep Thrall in the position of Warchief for as long as his fellow orc still lived. He would browbeat the damn shaman into maintaining the role no matter what it took, through whatever trials and tribulations the world of Azeroth encountered. Only in the worst case scenario would Rognak ever take on the mantle himself… after all, who the fuck would want that much responsibility?

Still… there were many more threats that had yet to be dealt with. Threats that would make themselves known in the years to come, and that Rognak wasn't entirely sure how to even go about tackling just yet.

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He'd told Ysera some of it. Specifically, he'd told the Dreamer about Malygos' madness and Deathwing's return. Ysera had been VERY interested to learn that the Destroyer was currently resting in the heart of Deepholm. As Rognak had hoped, the Dragon Aspects had wanted to chase after Deathwing following the Battle of Grim Batol, but not only could they not discern where he'd gone, they weren't sure what state he was in.

Finding out not only his location but also his dire straits, Ysera had made it clear that she was going to bring the matter to her fellow Aspects… while being more discreet in how she would handle Malygos' instability. But hey, maybe getting to kill Deathwing would go a long way to fixing Malygos' mental maladies. Who knew, right?

Though even if Deathwing was killed before he could cause the Cataclysm and untold amounts of damage to Azeroth, Rognak knew that wouldn't be the end of it. The minions of the Void still lingered, after all. From Elemental Lords like Ragnaros to their masters the Old Gods. All were here on Azeroth… or in the case of the Elemental Lords, one step away from being summoned to Azeroth to do their masters' bidding.

C'thun would be the first to stir from what Rognak remembered. Ahn'Qiraj would make their presence known soon enough, though at least from Shandris' reports of Feralas it didn't sound like they were pushing out quite yet. No sign of massive bugs in Un'Goro or Tanaris either just yet, nor in the Barrens which was as far as where they'd pushed before being discovered previously from what Rognak recalled.

He had some of his Warsong Druids watching on that front, along with other members of the newly formed Cenarion Circle.

Of course, after C'thun it was Yogg-Saron. HIS machinations had been a lot longer in the making though from what Rognak understood. He'd told Ysera about that too, about Ulduar and how it had likely already fallen to Yogg-Saron's corruption. The Old God had turned his prison into his kingdom and corrupted his wardens. Whether anything could be done or not about that, Rognak didn't know. He was just an orc after all, there was only so much he could be expected to handle.

Setting aside the continent of Pandaria entirely, seeing as one literally could not get there until the Mists lifted, that just left N'Zoth and Azshara and the whole-ass Naga Empire. N'Zoth was said to be the weakest of the Old Gods, but when you're dealing in terms of gods, the weakest can still crush you like an ant, can it not? Ultimately, him and his plans would also have to be dealt with eventually, Rognak figured.

Those were just some of the bigger dangers too. That didn't take into account the political landscape of things. Word had reached them here in Kalimdor from across the sea… of 'freed thinking' undead roaming the remains of Lordaeron's ruins. Tales of a Banshee Queen and her Forsaken had managed to make their way to Rognak's ear.

It made sense. The specific events might have changed, but ultimately the destruction of Frostmourne had given Sylvanas the same opportunity that she would have had otherwise. An opportunity to break free as the Lich King was dying and Kel'Thuzad and the Dreadlords were all rushing to Northrend and to take as many of her 'people' with her as possible.

She even managed to make Varimathras her bitch from what Rognak was hearing of who was among her advisors.

So the Forsaken wallowed in the Ruins of Lordaeron. The Blood Elves tried to rebuild their homes in the destruction of Quel'Thalas. Meanwhile, reports of Stormwind being on the rise down in the South had also reached Kalimdor's shores. There might still be an Alliance after all, once word of the Horde's resurgence reached Stormwind in turn. An Alliance of humans, dwarves, and gnomes… but not elves.

That, Rognak still considered one of his greatest triumphs. In that regard he KNEW he was terribly biased, but all the same… he couldn't help but be proud of himself even now. Preventing the Warsong Clan from cutting down a few trees had prevented… so much hardship, so much bloodshed in the long run. It had saved Cenarius' life, but that was just the beginning.

The Night Elves and Orcs would have been mortal enemies if not for Rognak's presence. They would have fought across the forest of Ashenvale for decades, ultimately culminating in a certain Banshee Queen taking the torch to the roots of Teldrassil and burning it all to the ground.

Instead, the Night Elves had not sequestered and isolated themselves in a new mere echo of a World Tree. And the orcs had not made mortal enemies of a long-lived, long-eared warrior race with incredibly long memories.

Instead, their two races were as close as could possibly be. The Night Elves might never join the Horde directly, but Rognak also knew they would never join the Alliance. They had no reason to in this world. In HIS world.

Either way, Rognak promised himself that he and his Warsong Druids would do everything they could in the years to come. Both to fight the massive existential threats to Azeroth herself, and to protect the ones they loved and the progress they'd managed to build in such a short amount of time.

And in the meantime… he would do his part to continue strengthening the bonds between his people and the Night Elves.

Initially, Rognak had been leery to leave Jaina's side at this crucial moment. Especially with Jaina overseeing the departure of her mother and the Kul Tiran Fleet, as well as regaining control of her city. But everything had honestly been going so smoothly ever since the Horde and the Night Elf Fleet pulled away and everyone could breathe better.

In the weeks since then, Jaina had decided Rognak had become something of a hovering busybody… and gone behind his back to send a message to Shandris and Tyrande all but begging them to pull him away. He knew this because when the invitation to meet with the two of them had come all the way from Astranaar, Rognak had shown it to Jaina with the initial intentions of declining it.

Which had resulted in his heavily pregnant lover throwing her hands up in the air and exasperatedly telling him that SHE was the one who had arranged it in the first place. And that if he didn't stop hovering over her and just GO already, she would be sorely tempted to see just how much of himself he could regrow once she started cutting things off.

… Yes, pregnant women could be very scary indeed.

That all said, that was how Rognak found himself here, in Astranaar. Specifically at the top of the Grand Temple of Elune that dominates the Capital City's central island. This time, instead of coming crashing down on the balcony, Rognak enters the proper, much more polite way, making his way past Sentinel Guards who all nod him through until finally he knocks on the door to the High Priestess' private chambers.

The door opens and Tyrande stands there in her usual attire, a smile on her face.

"Ah, wonderful. Come in, Rognak. Shandris and I have much to discuss with you… about the future."

Rognak can't help the way he gives a crooked smile at that, even as he steps inside. Heh, the future. He'd just been thinking about the future, funnily enough. Very briefly, he wonders what future events the two Night Elves wish to discuss with him. Perhaps how to best coordinate between their peoples going forward? Or maybe they might want to talk about this idea he had, where they could seed some new settlements in Azshara that were both Night Elf and Orc populated. That way if the Naga ever DID show up in that region, they would be more ready for it.

… But no. He really should have known better. As he moves further into the private chambers of Elune's High Priestess and Tyrande closes the door behind him, Rognak's eyes fall upon Shandris Feathermoon, the Sentinel General and his lover waiting on the bed.

Of course. THAT future.

Heh, he really should have known.