The Ranger King of Azeroth

My name is Charlemagne Theron. Yes, that Theron, the one you’re thinking of. Argh, no, I mean Lor'themar, is my younger brother. Whatever you do, don’t call me Big Strong, or I guarantee you’ll end up three-quarters dead from a beating. As a reliable transmigrator, I can responsibly tell you that I... “Charlemagne, what are you muttering about? Today is the day our little brother inherits the position of Ranger-General. If you don’t want Sylvanas and Vereesa to shoot arrows up your nostrils, hurry up.” “...All right, my dear Alleria. I’m coming.” As the two walked away hand in hand, a barely noticeable figure appeared where they had stood. “Big brother, enjoy your love-triangle drama.” I am Charlemagne Theron. I led my people in the war against the orcs, fought the Old Gods and a couple of fools, and resisted the Burning Legion. I have served Azeroth, and I’m here to bring glory to myself.