Danarshi

Danarshi, a survivor of the exodus from Argus twenty five thousand years ago, is among the first of the draenei. He is primarily referred to by the title of "Anchorite", due to his tenancy to serve the interests of his people and his/their allies through the means and morals that are most frequently associated with the Holy Light.

Danarshi is an erudite individual in consequence of his eons of experience. In addition to his expertise as an anchorite, he possesses an exemplary proficiency in the arts of a soulpriest and harbinger, carrying wisdom in Shadow magic and melee combat; he is knowledgeable in regards to various other miscellaneous professions and crafts as well, such as tailoring and blacksmithing.

Despite the high esteem in which Danarshi is held, due to his prior and ongoing service towards the draenei and the naaru, himself and his reputation are mere echoes of their former selves, due to an ephemeral plunge into insanity from which he recently suffered, an incident that had ultimately caused him to twist his own, physical image through the usage of dark magics, specifically necromancy, a scar that the anchorite carries to this day.

Despite the tragedies of his past that weigh down upon him, Danarshi walks the path of redemption with an iron will, adamant to atone for his former sins and return to the august anchorite that he had once been. Still, in conjunction with the Light, he preserves the will to wield the Shadow, viewing it as a crucial component of the universe that can be used for good, if handled with appropriate intelligence and control.

Danarshi is a contemporary member of orders and organisations such as the Aldor, the Grand Alliance, the Hand of Argus and, most notably, the Te'Amun, who, thus far, have proven integral in his quest for redemption, shining hope upon his future and allowing him a plethora of friendships that may have proven impossible otherwise.

Today, following his long-awaited return to Argus and the defeat of the Burning Legion, Danarshi continues his journey down the path of redemption, with its terminus drawing forever nearer. The Anchorite upholds his struggle of perfecting his hold on the magics of the Light and the Void whilst defending the draenei and their allies from all opponents that may dare threaten them, hopeful for a future where his people may at last find peace.

Appearance
Danarshi's physical appearance alone may be sufficient enough to turn the stomach of any who are strongly devoted to the Holy Light, his skin and hair both a darker, sicklier shade than most, like that of the shadowy Void itself, each proving as a direct representation of his past corruption, wrought upon him by dark magics.

The texture of the skin upon Danarshi's face itself is testimony to the aftermath of thirty seven thousand years of endured life, baring a multitude of wrinkles that often resemble wisdom, venerability, and, most patently, age. His face shows more than his age alone, however, as his cheeks each bare three deep scars; others, too, exist upon his face, although are far less visible to the naked eye. The skin that covers his very body, on the other hand, is visibly littered with scars that originate from countless battles and other perilous occurrences, unlike the mere six, and the few hidden others, that rest upon his face.

The length of Danarshi's hair is undeniably absurd, hanging down behind his upper-back, even with his ludicrous, foxtail-esque method of containing it. Complimenting his hairstyle are two horns, each of which point forward, away from the head itself; prior to his corruption, his horns had, instead, pointed upwards, some having argued that the deformation of the horns was of a demonic nature; such an argument, however, has been thoroughly dismissed by Danarshi's acquaintances, due to the fact that, despite the "abnormal" shape that his horns had grown into, a number of non-corrupt draenei are also widely known to have been born with such horns.

Danarshi's face is met with more than mere wrinkles and scars, as a brilliant moustache can be found shrouding much of his upper lip, accompanied by a fine goatee, its length spanning from his lower lip, down to a couple of inches below his very chin. Like the remainder of the hair upon his body, the colour of Danarshi's facial hair was, too, warped into a darker, more shadowy shade.

Danarshi's height is slightly above the average for that of a male draenei, standing at 7'7 feet tall, over the median of 7'4/7'6 feet. Despite his height being near to the norm for a male draenei, he is still colossal in comparison to many of the other races within the Grand Alliance of Azeroth, not only due to his height alone, although his weight, as well, his body not only a buff show of muscle, though a toned one, too, expressing his stature over his allies with solid strength and confidence.

Personality
Since being reunited with the Holy Light in years recent, Danarshi's ascent into an individual whom is driven by positivity, rather than negativity, has been definite. He is a man who is fundamentally driven by the Light's tenets, frequently showing compassion, honesty and respect, among other acts of emotion, to his fellow friends and allies. Despite his recent journey down the path of redemption, which has, thus far, brought him prodigious enlightenment, he is still, at the core, a bitter character, the negative events of his lengthy past forever weighing down upon him like a boulder of hurt, grief and guilt, even to this very day.

Befriending a man such as Danarshi is a complex act for many; although it has become of progressive ease to bond with him, in comparison to the reclusive individual whom he once was, one must, at the very least, exercise a measure of respect when addressing the venerable anchorite; for those who show him unjustified disrespect, he will be obligated to treat them in the same manner, unless if they are of a higher chain of command, in which he will show them the necessary level of respect, despite their behaviour towards him; his inner feelings for such individuals, however, will be of the opposite of his physical interactions with them, and it would require much frustration for him to treat them as his heart would most desire.

Even those who forge a respectful relationship with Danarshi may potentially progress no further than such, as his closest friends are likely to be opened up to the Shadow that lurks beneath the surface; it will take a large, patient heart to truly bond with a man such as Danarshi, he who is wrought by a pronounced deal of mental conflict, forever attempting to keep the Light and the Shadow within him in harmony, as few may come to learn the full extent of. With his truest of friends, he will have a tenancy of rambling upon the dire matters of both the universe and his past; it is common that he will lose himself in what may seem like the simplest of conversations.

Following the tragic death of his bondmate, Danarshi grew entirely distant from the very concept of romance, and, despite the comfort that the Holy Light has brought him throughout his time of mourning, his outlook upon the matter is yet to change; those who are brazen enough to attempt romantic interaction with him, most especially those who are knowingly aware of his past, will find Danarshi to hastily view them, and, depending on the severity of the situation, treat them, with repulse. Flirting with Danarshi is among the quickest of ways that a friendly face can lose his trust.

Bonding with Danarshi will not prove as an utter burden, however, as reaching such a level of friendship and trust with him will prove to have its many benefits: he will show a tremendous amount of care for these people, often going out of his way to fight their battles for them in their defence, whether it be a verbal, or physical conflict; this is strongly shaped by the plethora of loved ones whom he has lost throughout the eons of time, issuing him with an unwavering drive to protect those who he cares for, due to a harrowing fear of losing these said people to death, or worse; it is likely that Danarshi suffers from a moderate to severe case of thantophobia, although this has not been officially diagnosed.

For those who he respects and/or admires, though has not bonded with, Danarshi has grown adept at shrouding his inner emotions from them, unless if the situation demands otherwise. Although once quiet, hesitant and rancorous to strangers and acquaintances alike, he has since grown fond of conversation and friendly interaction with even such people as these, most openly due to the time that he has spent among his own people within Te'Amun, and the organisations that allied themselves with them. Surrounding himself in friendly faces has become that of a comfort for him.

Despite his recent time spent beneath the care of his people and the naaru, Danarshi may still be considered as a rather impatient and hot-headed individual, often eager to charge head first into a situation, rather than to evaluate it accordingly. Although his patience has increased as he has wandered down the path of redemption, his lingering impulsiveness may occasionally prove as an issue for those who choose to venture with him on perilous journeys that are riddled with danger. If Danarshi spots a threat that seeks to have him and his allies harmed or killed, he would be more likely to attempt the very same upon them, rather than to think the situation out strategically, and/or to avoid the conflict entirely. This is most common to occur when Danarshi is faced off against demons or orcs, and it can prove a significant hurdle to convince him down a route that does not involve bloodshed. Ideally, Danarshi should only be brought upon a mission involving demons or hostile orcs if violence is intended to be used against them.

Amanalar, the Land of Prosperity
Roughly thirty seven thousand years ago, Danarshi, the secondborn child of Shi'var and Duum'viaer, was born within the region of Amanalar upon the planet of Argus, the homeworld of the eredar. Amanalar was a land that was surrounded by sprawling mountain ranges, with forests creeping along their bases. During the season of spring, the region was dominated by open, green, luscious plains of grass, which turned a vibrant orange during the autumn, a thirsty yellow during the summer and then shrouded in layers of pale snow throughout the winter. The wilderness of Amanalar was particularly rife with wildlife.

Scattered across Argus were countless different regions that were under the control of the eredar, they who were considered the masters of their world, having altered much of the planet's surface into a utopia. Though Amanalar was only a single region of many, there was much that differentiated it from the others. Duum'viaer and Shi'var were among the first who arrived within the land, and for thousands of years, they and its other denizens had remained vastly secluded and independent, surviving off little more than their own toil. From its dawn onward stood a settlement known as Amanare, the proud capital of the region.

For several millennia, Amanalar remained a small, rural region, until it could no longer support its increasing population. In solution to this, various settlements were progressively constructed throughout the region; the most prominent of them were: Xzaarven, Doros, Faralihr, Umera and Korus. Though Xzaarven was initially constructed as a means for the people of Amanalar to increase their influence throughout the region, its fate was as a place of magical learning, after three foreign eredar magi of high esteem were allowed power over the settlement.

The three magi created an order for Xzaarven’s residing students and teachers, known as the Xzaarven Order of Mages. They controlled the city in the form of a council that was comprised of the three of them, named the Xzaarven Council of the Magi. The leading figures of Amanalar were inspired by this and formed a political body of their own by the name of the Amanalar Board of Rulership, governing Amanalar as an oligarchy. Duum'viaer was among those who formed the Amanalar Board of Rulership and would remain as one of the region's leading figures.

Doros was a large-scale mining settlement that was constructed at the base of the tallest mountain in Amanalar. This mountain was rich with ore deposits, and the mines which ran through its core were to supply the region for innumerable years to come. Faralihr was instead a cultural and residential settlement, housing many thousands of civilians. It was home to the grandest market within Amanalar and housed the most entertainment, ranging from festivals, celebrations, plays and more. It was with the construction of Faralihr that Amanalar truly opened its arms and embraced the outer regions of Argus.

Umera was a dedicated agricultural settlement and was the solution to a food drought within Amanalar. This endeavour was of uttermost success, having provided substantial food and crafting supplies that were beyond the requirements of the region, allowing further avenues of trade with other regions. Though Umera contained multiple residences, they primarily housed the workers and their families. Korus, on the other hand, was a solely dedicated residential settlement, constructed with the concept of housing many thousands of civilians of its own.

As civilization within Amanalar continued to evolve, so too did its settlements. Amanare, Xzaarven and Faralihr had seen the most significant growth, with Amanare having evolved into a prosperous metropolis of metal and crystal, Xzaarven rising as a small though majestic city that was powered with the magic of those who were taught such power within its walls, and Faralihr furthering its identity as an artsy and cultural city, dwarfed in size by only that of Amanare itself. Ultimately, Amanalar found its place among the utopias of Argus, and Danarshi was a single eredar out of the hundreds of thousands who were privileged enough to mature within its borders.

The Dawn
Danarshi was specifically born within the city of Amanare, where Duum'viaer and Shi'var resided, as well as the majority of his extended family, which included grandparents, uncles/aunts, cousins and far beyond. Although the eredar had not invented surnames, they were no less conscious of the blood with whom they shared, and many still upheld an unrivalled respect for their relatives; this was of no deviation within the bloodline of Danarshi.

Danarshi’s father, Duum'viaer, was a strong character who possessed an iron will. Having roamed Argus as a hardened harbinger for tens of thousands of years, he was among the most accomplished in the art. In consequence of this, there were only few who would have dared to disrespect the seasoned warrior. With the respect in which his peers had held for him, he proved himself as an exceptional leader of the masses, having led the initial settlers of Amanalar into the unfamiliar land and shepherding them for innumerable millennia. Though Duum'viaer was a talented eredar, he was merely one man, and no man alone could have hoped to achieve such feats. He relied upon the decisions of his closest companions as much as they relied upon his own, though the individual who's words he held with the highest of esteem was Shi'var, his bondmate.

Shi'var was, like Duum’viaer, a respected member of her people, though unlike her husband, it was not due to combat or leadership, though her wisdom. The woman was a gifted and intelligent philosopher, harbouring opinions and ideas that could carry her husband and others through the hardest of trials. When not nose deep in her studies and lectures, she focused her time and efforts on the maintenance of family, guiding and supporting them through their decisions in life. She was a warm and approachable character, an individual who was forever willing to listen to all that others had to say, whether it was significant or otherwise. She was the sole figure who Duum'viar would dare not reproach; this, on its own, spoke volumes of his respect for her.

Danarshi was not the firstborn child of Duum'viaer and Shi'var. The young eredar was preceded by an elder sister by the name of Utruvi, who was two thousand years older than her newborn brother. Shi'var had proved as Utruvi's primary inspiration throughout her childhood, the girl having grown as a kind, calm and gentle individual. She assisted her mother with her studies and was taken beneath her wing as an aspiring philosopher. Utruvi was an affectionate sister towards her brother; he considered her a close friend throughout his childhood, adolescence and early adulthood.

Tragically, three centuries following the birth of Danarshi, Utruvi fell ill with a rare disease which caused her health to deteriorate over the span of several months. Once the sickness had left her gaunt and weak, she passed away within the peace of her sleep. Danarshi, Duum'viaer and Shi'var mourned the loss of their loved one for years to come. Death was perceived as a distinctly traumatic concept to the eredar, due to the race’s near ageless anatomy; eredar passing via natural causes was virtually unheard of. Danarshi could only regret that he had lost his sister at such a young age.

From within his first century of life and far beyond, Danarshi utilised much of his time as an apprentice harbinger, mentored by none other than his father himself. For the first three centuries of his life, the combined, calming presence of Shi'var and Utruvi had lessened his will for combat, slowing his ascendance as a harbinger. With the passing of Utruvi, however, the influence of Shi'var alone was insufficient to overpower the will of Duum'viaer. Danarshi’s schooling steadily increased, and by his fifth century of age, he was declared a fully fledged harbinger. With the motivation of his father, Danarshi placed his newfound abilities to use as an Amanare peacekeeper, tasked with patrolling the city and its vicinity.

Once five more centuries had passed and Danarshi reached a thousand years of age, he remained the lone child of his parents no longer. Mordaros, his younger brother, was born. With the trauma of Utruvi's tragic passing still lingering within his mind, Danarshi had felt a driving force of responsibility for the wellbeing of his newborn sibling, compelled to accompany and assist him through his youth. Though Duum'viaer and Shi'var typically took the role as the leading figures within Mordaros' life, Danarshi supported his brother to the fullest of his ability. The two of them had grown close as a result, their relationship ultimately rivalling Danarshi and Utruvi's.

The Amanalar Peacekeepers
Duum'viaer was not only a member of the Amanalar Board of Rulership; he was additionally in charge of an elite task force of peacekeepers known as the Amanalar Peacekeepers, which was his own brainchild. Formed shortly following the construction of Faralihr, the Amanalar Peacekeepers, unlike ordinary peacekeepers, were responsible for upholding law and order throughout Amanalar as a whole, rather than merely a single settlement.

Only the most accomplished of Amanalar's harbingers were deemed as potential candidates for induction into the Amanalar Peacekeepers, vastly limiting their numbers, though compensated through the sheer skill of its members. Danarshi was undoubtedly at an advantage over the competition, due to his father's position as the head of the task force. Despite this however, the young harbinger was nevertheless forced to prove himself as a capable combatant.

After one thousand and five hundred years of peacekeeping within Amanare, Duum'viaer formally inducted his son into the ranks of the Amanalar Peacekeepers. Though one may have thought that such years spelled immense talent, his fellow Amanalar Peacekeepers dwarfed him in proficiency by thousands upon thousands of years. Inevitably, a negative stigma spread throughout the membership, many harbouring a remarkable disrespect for Danarshi, viewing him as unworthy of his induction. Fortunately, the young harbinger had rarely seen the disdain of his comrades beyond harsh stares and grunts; they feared the consequences if Duum'viaer were to discover their mistreatment of his son. Nonetheless, Danarshi knew that he had a long road ahead of him in proving his worth to his colleagues.

As an Amanalar Peacekeeper, Danarshi was a sworn guardian of his homeland and its people, acting as their first and final means of defence. His duties had sent him from patrolling the various settlements and the roads which connected them, to venturing beyond the very borders of Amanalar on missions that could have dictated the future of the region as a whole.

When tasked with travelling vast distances, the Amanalar Peacekeepers routinely visited the mages of Xzaarven in pursuit of their teleportation magics. When dealing with the governing figures of foreign regions, a member of the Amanalar Board of Rulership ordinarily accompanied them, and whilst Duum'viaer often handled such matters via his own accord, others occasionally performed this role in his stead. Regardless of who was tasked with conducting diplomacy, it was the duty of the Amanalar Peacekeepers to see to their protection.

By the time that he was declared an Amanalar Peacekeeper, Danarshi had adopted a relatively "fiery" personality. Though passionate and enthusiastic, he was short-tempered and impatient (for an eredar). Despite this, he had not lost all the traits that his mother had passed down to him, such as kindness and tolerance, an affinity for understanding one's troubles and the capacity to support those who are in need. He was a man of many friendships and valued companionship above all else.

Long Before the Storm
As time progressed, so too did Danarshi, who continued to prove himself as an escalating expert in the art of a harbinger, his melee prowess rivalled by none within Amanalar but his fellow Amanalar Peacekeepers. Eventually he was tasked with instructing and leading harbingers and peacekeepers of lesser experience, and it was a duty that tested him unlike any other. Danarshi discovered that leadership was, unlike his father, one of his weaknesses, as he was one to often make rational and reckless decisions. Though he showed little to no problem in passing his knowledge down to his students, once he was to command them through missions, they were often met with failure.

Throughout his childhood, adolescence and early adulthood, Mordaros, unlike Danarshi, had swayed from the influence of his father in pursuit of a temptation that was yet to have marked their family: magic. During his youth, Shi'var inspired her younger son with stories of Xzaarven and the mages who worked their magics within its walls. Mordaros was captivated by the stories, insisting to his mother that she bring him to see Xzaarven in person. Despite the disgruntled ramblings of Duum'viaer, who lacked the capacity to comprehend his son's interest in magic, he could not sway the decisions of his bondmate, who had realised that the heart of Mordaros rested with magic; she thought it as rightful to allow him to pursue his dreams.

Upon Mordaros' initial arrival at Xzaarven, the Xzaarven Order of Mages were openly welcoming towards the young, curious eredar. As the years were counted, the frequency in which he visited them had only continued to increase, the aspiring magus having spent a significant quantity of time among them, from his youth to his coming of age, when he was officially inducted into their ranks, and his tutoring was properly initiated.

Mordaros was revealed to possess an incredible capacity for the arcane, when his knowledge of the magic increased at a rapid pace. He was declared a fully fledged magus within mere decades, conveying a particular interest in the art of fire magic. Though such magic was of little practical use to him, it offered him a formidable means of defence, and the joy of the craft in of itself was more than sufficient to maintain his interest in it.

In comparison with his father and brother, Mordaros possessed a particularly intelligent individual, a trait that was inherited much from his mother. His mind was far from perfect however, as he held an impatient, hot-headed demeanour, proving as swift to frustrate, particularly when his thoughts and ideals were disagreed with or challenged; he was an unpleasant character when compared with his brother.

Mordaros' restless personality had caused a lingering worry within the Xzaarven Order of Mages, as such tenancies could ultimately lead to an insatiable craving for power, if left unchecked. As he rose further throughout the ranks of his fellow magi, never did the observant eyes of the Order cease watching him; their wisdom dictated that he was worthy of caution.

Mordaros and Duum'viaer verbally contested with one another on a regular basis, their relationship never having truly flourished. As a man of few friends, he valued Shi'var and Danarshi more than any other souls; they never questioned his dreams and desires, and Mordaros cherished them deeply for this.

During the three thousand years that followed his induction into the Amanalar Peacekeepers, Danarshi had regularly pushed himself to his limit, adamant on proving himself to his comrades. By the age of five thousand, he had more than earned their respect; he had even surpassed a number them in fighting and peacekeeping ability, after training with his father and exerting himself for countless years.

Fortuitously, shortly within the future, the Amanalar Peacekeepers had secured a meeting with the renowned eredar Triumvirate within the grand capital of Argus itself, Mac'Aree. Led by Duum'viaer, it was their mission and responsibility to establish a functioning alliance between Amanalar and Mac'Aree, which they hoped would result in active trade and militaristic aid, among other advantages.

Through a conjured portal from Xzaarven, the Amanalar Peacekeepers stepped hoof within Mac'Aree. This was the first that Danarshi had physically witnessed of the renowned city, and he was amazed at the sheer sight of it. With miles of grass as golden as the sun, trees of violet and lilac, towering spires of metal and crystal, glimmering rivers and stone walkways that glittered with particles of crystalline dust, he could only describe it as one of the most majestic architectural marvels that he had witnessed within his lifetime. Even its culture was something to be perplexed about, and the sheer power of their peacekeeping force could have effortlessly defeated the Amanalar Peacekeepers if they so desired.

The Amanalar Peacekeepers' met with the Triumvirate of Mac'Aree within the Seat of Triumvirate, their place of sovereignty. The meeting had lasted for an hour, resulting in a voluntary vote amidst the trio. Though Archimonde was impressed over the accomplishments of Xzaarven, he viewed the widespread magical intolerance throughout the remainder of Amanalar as a weakness, casting aside his vote. Kil'jaeden, too, voted against the offer of Duum'viaer, unimpressed in the militaristic might of Amanalar and failing to realise the value of an alliance with the region. Velen, however, saw something in Amanalar that the others did not: potential. Though he granted them his vote, the decision of his peers outweighed his own.

Amanalar had failed to secure an alliance with Mac'Aree, though not all was lost: they had successfully gained the attention of the Triumvirate, as well as the trust of Velen – these accomplishes in of their own were a substantial victory. With their heads held high, they were hopeful that, in due time, they would sway the opinions of the Triumvirate and fulfil their ultimate objective.

An Impenetrable Bond
The initial nine thousand years of Danarshi's life was undeniably the period of his youthful freedom. Without the responsibility of raising a family, he had formed a number of intimate relationships, none of which had resulted in a serious, long-term commitment. Such a period was soon to conclude however, after Danarshi had acquainted himself with a bright and affectionate eredar woman known as Aelleena, which occurred on one particular day, during a scheduled patrol past the fringes of Amanare, where he had sighted her foraging for plants. Stalked by the predators of the wilderness, her life was in jeopardy. Danarshi was swift in his response, slaying the creatures and rescuing the woman. Danarshi received substantial appreciation from Aelleena for his heroic deed.

Aelleena was a peaceful soul without a desire for violence. She possessed a talent for artistic practices, such as sculpting and painting. With only five hundred years separating Aelleena and Danarshi, with Aelleena being the younger, they were considered as close in age for a pair of eredar. Aelleena remained in close contact with Danarshi. They consistently interacted with one another and shared their interests, the two having grown familiar throughout a short period of time.

Fortunately, contact was simple for Danarshi and Aelleena, as they resided a short distance from one another within Amanare. It was not long until they formed a sturdy friendship. Although their interests were not substantially similar, they found that there was plenty for them to learn from one another and forever a subject to discuss upon. As years advanced, a deep intimacy had steadily formed between them, though neither held the courage to confront the other on such a matter; this was ironic for Danarshi, as the man had long since shaped himself as a heroic and courageous character. In time, he decided to face his fears and approach Aelleena. Fortunately for the anxious harbinger, she was positive in her response. From this moment fourth, their affection for one another had accelerated, until they considered themselves loyal lovers.

Once Danarshi and Aelleena had fallen comfortable with their intimate relationship, an overwhelming and unfamiliar sensation of affection had formed within them; this was the moment in which they realised that they had found their lifelong bondmate. Three centuries following their introduction to one another, a marriage ceremony transpired, uniting the two together with a pledge of eternal faithfulness.

Danarshi and Aelleena happily lived within each other's company for seven centuries following their marriage, until the inevitable came to pass: a new addition to their family. Aelleena gave birth to their first child, a daughter who they named Irenora.

Irenora
One thousand years following the birth of Irenora, Danarshi offered his daughter tutoring in the art of a harbinger, something that he had yearned to do for much of her life. Though he could have followed in the footsteps of Duum'viaer and approached her at a younger age, the forceful tenancies of his father had involuntarily taught him an important lesson: patience when dealing with the young. He had no desire to compel his daughter into fulfilling his desires, as had happened to himself - he had learned to value the wishes of his daughter above his own.

Whilst Irenora openly confessed an inspiration for her father and his heroics, the initial one thousand years of her life had dictated that her calling did not rest with the practice of physical weaponry and close quarters combat. Though Danarshi was unavoidably disappointed over the decision of his daughter, he made no further attempt at persuading her and accepted her decision.

Much like he had for Mordaros, Danarshi would support Irenora, no matter the path she decided to walk. Coincidentally, it was, in fact, magic that had inspired the young woman the most. From her childhood to her adulthood, her uncle had told her much of his life as a magi, and although this had intrigued her, she had never possessed the confidence to pursue it within the first millennium of her life.

Shortly following the declination of her father's offer, a day had struck when Irenora was confronted by Mordaros, who informed the curious woman of a magical ritual that was to occur within the woodland nearby Xzaarven, performed by the most illustrious of the city's mages; if a fascination in magic was to truly flourish within her, then this was how it would happen. With utmost reassurance from her uncle, a nervous Irenora heeded his word and set out for the aforementioned woods, where she sought to witness the ritual from the concealment of the undergrowth.

Deep down, the woman questioned her motives, Danarshi and Aelleena having often made clear the dangers that laid within the forests of Amanalar; they were, indeed, home to a plethora of predators. Despite the tales of peril, her faith in her uncle had convinced her that she would stumble upon no danger, and continued on with her journey.

Fortunately, Irenora did indeed stumble upon a gathering of mages within a clearing of the woods near Xzaarven, as she had anticipated. The mages sat side by side in a circular formation, surrounding a series of runic patterns that were physically etched into the soil itself, luminous from the arcane powers that coursed within them. Unbeknownst to Irenora, the mages had detected her presence since the very moment that she stepped into the forests; their magics had vastly heightened their senses over the average eredar. Irenora stalked them from within the nearby undergrowth, as she had planned, though it would do her no favours.

The gathered mages remained purposely ignorant towards the presence of Irenora and proceeded with their magical ritual. The sight that followed was awe-inspiring, as the forest clearing was touched with an intricate display of varying shades of light and colours, those of which seemed to work against the very laws of physics themselves. At the climax, the very mages themselves were consumed in arcane radiance, gradually levitating off the ground in harmony and then locking in place.

Irenora was astonished; this display was beyond anything that Mordaros had shown her before. Her heart urged fpr her to approach the mages, though her mind told her otherwise, fearful that she would disturb them. The woman decisively slipped away into the surrounding thicket and retreated to safety, no less unsuspecting that the mages had been watching her movements.

Throughout the following days, the perplexing display of magic within the forest had utterly consumed the mind of Irenora. Night after night, the woman dreamed not only what she had witnessed, though what she herself could be capable of, if she were to invest herself in the art of arcane magic. Following much thought and decision, she ventured to Xzaarven, keen on meeting the mages who performed the ritual. Much to her surprise, she received a warm welcome upon her arrival; they had been expecting her. Indeed, all that had occurred was a cunning plot by Mordaros and members within the Xzaarven Order of Mages, who wished only for Irenora to realise her interest in arcane magic.

Whilst such a scheme may have frustrated some, Irenora was mystified and impressed. She was offered a place within the ranks of the Xzaarven Order of Mages, which she wholeheartedly accepted. Her studies in the arts of arcane magic had officially begun, and with the passion that she now possessed, she was destined to arise as a powerful and capable magus. Only following her induction into the Order of Mages did Danarshi and Aelleena discover their daughter's intrigue in magic, and though it was of initial surprise to them, they ultimately pledged their full support towards her.

Though Irenora was thankful towards Mordaros for inspiring her in magic throughout her lifetime, unlike her uncle, her interests laid with the specialization of raw arcane power, rather than refining it into elements such as fire and frost; she would still learn such practices, though it would not prove as her specialty. Despite her decision, Mordaros taught his niece much of what he knew of fire magic, until she had learned all that she deemed necessary from him. She was an undeniably swift learner, comparable with her uncle himself, who was renowned for similar feats; though proud of her intelligence, he begrudgingly formed a modest jealousy for her. It was clear that Irenora possessed an unseen potential.

The Burning Dawn
The darkest of all days had finally struck, when the Dark Titan Sargeras approached the Argussian Triumvirate with promises of untold power in exchange for the service and loyalty of the eredar within his army, the Burning Legion. As propaganda filled the streets of Amanalar’s settlements, an ill-informed, twelve-thousand-year-old Danarshi had found himself disconcerted though perplexed over such promises. Though the Harbinger had never truly tasted magical power, nor had he sought to, it was clear that the offers of Sargeras ran far deeper than this - they would render the eredar as physically stronger. Despite a looming suspicion within him, declining such a proposal had seemed foolish to him.

Fortunately for the conflicted Danarshi, his family was not quite as susceptible, Aelleena the first to approach him about her anxieties. She informed him of a message that Velen himself had spread across Argus, one which warned the eredar that Sargeras would corrupt his followers into demons. It was no secret that Velen was a renowned prophet, capable of peering into the future. Despite his realisation of this, he found himself arguing with his bondmate; Kil'jaeden and Archimonde had openly pledged themselves to Sargeras, and the majority of the eredar would inevitably follow - there would be no place on Argus that would be safe for those who refused.

Velen, however, had formulated a strategy, suggesting that those who were to venture to the Seat of the Triumvirate within Mac’Aree would discover a means of escape from Argus. Aelleena notified Danarshi of this, and as much as he detested the sheer concept of abandoning Argus to demonic corruption, he was merely a single individual who could never have saved his homeworld, and sense had finally struck him; serving Sargeras was not a risk worth taking, neither for himself or his family.

Throughout the days that followed, thousands of Amanalar's citizens, primarily from Xzaarven, had incidentally vanished, including Mordaros himself; something sinister was happening, and Danarshi could sense that time ran short - he had to act. After gathering Aelleena and Irenora, he met with Duum'viaer, Shi'var and his fellow Amanalar Peacekeepers at the very centre of Amanare. During the interim, freakish sounds from an abnormal storm loomed over the horizon, intensifying as it crept closer towards Amanalar.

Afraid that an apocalypse was hastily approaching, Duum'viaer took charge and formulated a stratagem: Danarshi would escort Shi'var, Aelleena and Irenora out of Amanare whilst congregating all civilians that he would stumble across. Meanwhile, Duum'viaer and the remainder of the Amanalar Peacekeepers would make their final stand within Amanare's centre, as a distraction in assistance of Danarshi, and as a final act of defiance against those who would harm Amanalar.

Danarshi did what he often did not: revolted against Duum'viaer. He refused to allow his father and his companions to fall within Amanalar, though despite his attempts at swaying them, Duum'viaer was resolute: if he was to die, then this was the death that he sought; for once, not even Shi'var could persuade her husband. Danarshi's final duty was to be the prime defender of his people, and the sole survivor of the Amanalar Peacekeepers. With significant sorrow, Danarshi, Shi'var, Aelleena and Irenora wished their heartfelt farewells upon Duum'viaer and initiated their journey.

As his orders had dictated, Danarshi rallied all civilians who stood in his path. As they reached the city’s outer walls, he had amassed approximately three hundred eredar, carrying the crippling guilt of the hundreds of thousands of innocent people that he was forced to abandon to their fates, including the entirety of his bloodline, save for his daughter; he was, after all, merely a single individual - there was nothing that he could have done to save them within the situation.

Danarshi did not tarry for a moment after leaving Amanare, and neither did the accompanying civilians, who were stricken with anxiousness. Since the disappearance of many of Xzaarven's denizens, contact was unable to be made with the city, nor the Council of the Magi; the situation there was deemed too unknown to be safe. Danarshi had no choice but to escort his people through the forests and mountains of Amanalar, from which they would walk the vast distance to Mac'Aree. Any semblance of peace had come to a sudden halt however, as the skies grew dark with winged monstrosities that were unlike anything Danarshi had ever witnessed, ranging from felbats to fiends and doomguards, demons in their purest of forms.

Despite Danarshi's steadfast attempts at leading his family and the civilians away from the approaching demons above, they were too swift to outrun. A doomguard slammed in front of them, mere metres away from the Harbinger. The demon snapped its sharpened teeth at him, questioning his loyalties to the Burning Legion. With a ferocious slash, Danarshi cut the creature down, infuriating its surrounding kin, who descended upon the innocent eredar with felbats in tow. Danarshi yelled in warning for the amassed group to flee, which they did. Though they drew closer to the cover of Amanalar's forests, many civilians were scooped away and slain by the winged demons, Irenora joining the fray and assaulting the attackers with arcane magic. The most courageous of the civilians had also lent their aid against them, though with most of them unarmed, there was little that they could do.

Once they had passed into the concealment of the forests, thirty eredar had already perished. Fortunately, the winged predators could harm them no longer within the thicket. Their reprieve was short-lived however, as colossal formations of rock and cinder rained down upon the woodland from the skies above, alight with an insidious green flame: fel. These were revealed as more than mere meteorites, reanimating as infernals. They climbed out of their craters and on to the surface, spreading emerald wildfires throughout the vast vegetation. There was no opportunity for rest – the survivors had to continue onward and find their way out of Amanalar.



A few of the survivors fell to fatigue and asphyxiation from the foul smoke that flooded the forests from the spreading fel fires, numbering to twenty fatalities. Danarshi led the remaining two hundred and fifty to an overpass and fled across the border of Amanalar, successfully evading the demons who were preying on them. As the skies were made visible to them once more, they were revealed as choked with clouds of darkened ash and crackling fel lightning, infernals raining down upon the distant cities and settlements, from where imposing plumes of smoke now rose. Amanalar had met its downfall.

Unfortunately for Danarshi and the eredar who followed him, their journey was far from over. Atop the overpass where they stood, they seized the opportunity to recover their strength and set eye upon their homeland for what was foreseeably the final time, before continuing towards Mac’Aree. For three hazardous days, they travelled across Argus, avoiding the demonic patrols however they could, though forced to fight for their safety on a multitude of occasions, losing further dozens of lives in result of this.

Fatigue returned to afflict them several miles into their trek. A harsh reality had struck Danarshi, as well as a difficult choice: if they were to rest, then they may have failed to reach Velen within Mac’Aree, sealing their fates upon a dying Argus. In knowing this, he proceeded with the most harrowing decision of his life: those who were too weary to follow would be abandoned. Danarshi’s heart ached with remorse for those who he was forced to strand, though if his people were to survive the downfall of their species, they could not afford to halt. This was a necessary sacrifice.

Once, at last, Mac’Aree was visible upon the horizon, approximately one hundred survivors remained standing. Much to their dismay, not even the grand capital of Argus itself was spared from the wrath of the demons, felfires having spread across much of its streets and structures. A glimmer of hope yet remained for them however, as the chaos within the city appeared fresh - many of its spires still stood proud, and screams reverberated throughout the air. It was unlikely that Velen had yet fled the planet, though their time was ever-fleeting – this was the final stretch. Sustained by adrenaline, Danarshi and the survivors approached Mac’Aree, adamant on finding Prophet Velen.

The demonic presence within Mac’Aree was stronger than anything that they had yet seen. From the moment that they stepped hoof through its gates, they were assaulted from all foreseeable directions by an amassed assortment of demons that included imps, felhounds, felguards, shivarra and far more. There was, however, one species of demon that sent shivers down the spines of the survivors: the man’ari, eredar who had succumbed to Sargeras. With eyes of flaming fel, skin of red and grey, charred hands and hooves, these man’ari lashed against them without remorse. Danarshi showed no mercy of his own for these eredar – they were his people no longer.

Despite the dire circumstances, Danarshi and the survivors persevered, pushing their way through the collapsing streets of Mac’Aree. For every demon that fell, the lives of three civilians were claimed as payment. Though their numbers continued to dwindle, their wills remained unwavering, resolute on reaching the Seat of the Triumvirate. Following a debilitating series of minutes, after many more had fallen to death, at last, their destination was set in sight, south-east of the Seat, within an arena, where a shining, resplendent light could be seen radiating through the archways of metal and crystal that surrounded its perimeter.

From hundreds of metres away, thousands upon thousands of eredar were within Danarshi’s sight, frantically fleeing through the archways into the safety of the luminous light, where no demon could pass, lest they were dissolved to ash by a device known as the Argunite Matrix, which shielded the arena. As Danarshi and the survivors drew closer to the source of the light, an abnormal sensation of courage and resolve washed over them, renewing their strength and intensifying the more that they approached. Mere moments ago, they were trudging with fatigue – now, they were speeding into a running pace.

Cries of pain, fear, agony and hatred sounded in all directions as Danarshi raised his shield in front of him and forged a path through the amassing assemblage of demons and eredar, his family and the survivors at his rear. As he passed into the arena through one of its archways, a single scream amidst hundreds had sent a chill of horror down the spine of the Harbinger; it was the voice of Shi’var. Danarshi could do nothing than to stand in shock as his mother was impaled by the pole arm of a doomguard, mere inches away from the arch. The helpless woman was then hauled into the surroundings crowds, never to be seen again.

The panic-stricken shouts of Danarshi, Irenora and Aelleena resounded across the area, calling for their loved one, though there was no response. Upon this moment, something had snapped within the Harbinger, as feelings of grief and hatred unlike any other washed over him; he would never be the same again. Though the desire to mourn Shi’var was overwhelming for the three, there was no opportunity for such – Danarshi had to fulfil his mission of helping the survivors of Amanalar to flee Argus, lest they would all perish.

Fleeing Fate
Those who passed through the archways had found themselves within the presence of L’ura, a naaru. Levitating several feet above the centre of the arena, L’ura danced and weaved about in a supple manner, its crystalline appendages revolving as holy magic flashed from its form. With the Light at its disposal and the assistance of the Argunite Matrix, L’ura fended off the hordes of stampeding demons to the utmost of its ability, allowing many of the fleeing eredar to pass unharmed; many others however, such as Shi’var, were not so fortunate.

Though powerful, L’ura was not impervious. Soon, its might was matched, when Kil’jaeden himself appeared upon the field, accompanied by an elite force of fellow man’ari, including Khazaduum, a monstrous man'ari who dwarfed his kin in size and ferocity. Khazaduum pierced through the defences of the arena and destroyed the Argunite Matrix, rendering the survivors vulnerable. Danarshi was no less helpless of the situation, able only to spectate with hope as Prophet Velen stepped fourth with the Ata’mal crystal in hand and summoned the aid of another naaru, K’ure. In mere moments, a grandiose dimensional ship, the Genedar, appeared within the skies above and whisked the survivors away to safety.

A heavy hum sounded throughout the Genedar as three naaru, K’ure, D'ore and K'ara, powered and piloted the dimensional ship from within it. The metallic floor shuddered underneath the hooves of Danarshi who was standing motionless, watching through a glass aperture as L’ura sacrificed itself against Kil’jaeden and the demonic forces upon the location that would be renamed the Triumvirate's End. Steadily, the Genedar ascended through the atmosphere of Argus, revealing a world that was shrouded in clouds of smoke, ash and fel lightning. Danarshi did not shatter his focus until his homeworld appeared as nothing more than a faraway speck within the vastness of space.

Of the approximate three hundred Amanalar citizens who Danarshi was responsible for rescuing, only thirty-three had survived; most of them, however, would, too, perish, throughout the many millennia to come. From this day fourth, Danarshi had sworn an oath that he would someday return to see Argus cleansed of the corruption that had swept across its surface. In memory of Amanalar, he carved three deep scars into his cheeks, each representing one of the six major settlements and its people, specifically: Amanare, Xzaarven, Doros, Faralihr, Umera and Korus. These scars would not only prove as a reminder for all the lives claimed by the Burning Legion, though also the importance of his war against the demons – the vengeance that he was destined to fulfil.



The Exiled Ones
Shortly following their exodus from Argus, the uncorrupted eredar had renounced their own race in spite of the man’ari, renaming themselves “draenei”, or “exiled ones” in the Eredun language. The draenei set out on an unknowingly long journey throughout the Great Dark Beyond that would last for the course of nearly twenty-five thousand years, on a quest to locate a world that they could call home.

Kil’jaeden, hellbent on revenge against the traitorous draenei, sent his most trusted accomplice, Talgath, in pursuit of them. Talgath would torment them for countless years, rendering it as nigh impossible for them to safely settle upon a world. No matter where they ran, Talgath would find them, and the Burning Legion would follow, leaving a path of destruction in their wake, decimating ‘’all’’ worlds that the draenei had dared to touch.

The naaru hastily arose as the most respected symbol to the draenei people, standing out as godlike beings who symbolized positive virtues such as hope, righteousness and nobility. The naaru granted the draenei a gift that had never fully graced them upon Argus: the Holy Light. The naaru served the draenei as mentors and protectors, instructing the amenable in the ways of the Light, whilst defending the race from the Burning Legion.

At first, Danarshi approached the Light with caution. Despite its warm and welcoming qualities, he was wary of this unfamiliar magic. After what had happened on Argus, when the man’ari were created via an unaccustomed magic, he was slow to trust such foreign practices. He refused the offers of the naaru, unwilling to wield the Light. For many years, he would remain solely a harbinger. Despite his obstinate demeanour however, Danarshi remained perpetually grateful for what the naaru had done for him, his family, and his people.

Kai'soran
During this period of immense grief, hatred, fear and uncertainty, the slightest glimmer of hope shone over the horizon for Danarshi and Aelleena. The partners agreed upon the decision of marking this monumental time in history with the birth of a second child. A short series of years following their exodus from Argus, their secondborn child had entered the world. The child was born a boy and named Kai'soran.



Kai'soran was the first of Danarshi's bloodline to be born a draenei. In a sense, the very existence of this young male was symbolic of the eredar’s transition into the draenei. He would be considered a strong foundation for his people. Though the individual he was to mature into was not yet known, it was acknowledged that he would likely stand out as a respectable individual amongst his kin, especially within the perception of draenei who would be born over the approaching millennia.

The Light's Embrace
Many of the draenei who had lived aboard the Genedar, including Danarshi, Aelleena and Kai'soran, had gradually begun succumbing to the Holy Light as their primary choice of practice. With the naaru D’ore as her mentor, Aelleena swore herself to his service and was the first of her family to embrace the Light. Although she continued to maintain her skill in sculpting, painting and other crafts, they were rendered as little more than simple hobbies that would serve as distractions during her free time. She used her new-found knowledge to heal the wounds of her people, rather than to cause injuries to her enemies. In reflection of this, Aelleena was deemed an anchorite, a holy priest of the draenei.

Kai'soran was, in his youth, conflicted over how he wished to dedicate himself to the draenei. As Danarshi influenced him in the violent though honourable ways of the harbinger, Aelleena did the complete opposite, encouraging him to become a warm, peaceful and generous anchorite. Despite the clashing inspirations of his parents, Kai'soran did not wish to favour sides with either of them, instead searching for a means of equally pleasing them both. Following Danarshi's lessons in the art of a harbinger, Kai'soran combined its potential with teachings of the Light from Aelleena and the naaru K’ure. With steel and Light combined, Kai'soran, now a servant of K’ure, arose as one of the first vindicators amongst the draenei.

Customarily, the vindicators are the paladins of draenei society, following a strict code underneath the Light and the naaru. Above all, Kai'soran was taught to possess a hatred for the Burning Legion and all other dark forces throughout the universe, including magics such as fel, necromancy and shadow. Though he was a kind and fair individual towards those who were noble, virtuous and innocent, he would show no mercy upon the wicked and malcontent.

It was an inevitability that Danarshi’s will would crumble beneath the sway of his wife and son. Eventually, he had almost felt as though his purpose as a harbinger had become irrelevant. Only with the settlement of new worlds was there ever an active threat for him to combat, yet these were often only meagre at best. Five thousand years after the draenei had fled from Argus, Danarshi sought a path that he deemed would prove far more helpful to both himself and the draenei. Following many restless nights of consideration and contemplation, Danarshi laid down his weapons and armour in exchange for a staff and robe, delving into the lessons of an anchorite underneath D’ore and Aelleena.

Like Aelleena, Danarashi used the Light to heal the sick and injured. Once more, he felt as though he had purpose within draenei society; he was helpful to his people not only on planets, though aboard the Genedar as well. Despite his new-found duties however, he continued to maintain his expertise as a harbinger, practicing often enough to preserve his physical strength and appearance. As he also furthered his abilities as an anchorite, his appreciation for the Light increased dramatically, to the point where he could not imagine living without its warming essence. As millennia flowed past, Danarshi and Aelleena rose as venerable anchorites. Fifteen thousand years following the exodus from Argus, D’ore deemed Aelleena a grand anchorite, an honorary title that signified her skill and devotion as a wielder of the Light. Five thousand years later, Danarshi followed in her steps.

While Danarshi, Aelleena and Kai'soran had all arisen as respectful wielders of the Holy Light, Irenora sought no involvement with it. She continued to pursue her studies into arcane magic, upholding her teachings from Argus and improving upon them. Ultimately, she was viewed as a venerable mage amongst the draenei, which was no small feat. Additionally, in memory of her lost uncle, Mordaros, she delved further into the art of warping arcane into the elements of fire and frost, increasing her competence in it.

Leanarhi
Twenty-three thousand gruelling years following their departure from Argus, the draenei people continued to endure their lives as exiles on the run from the Burning Legion. After having stumbled upon many different worlds, only to witness their destruction at the hands of the demons, hope was increasingly difficult to uphold. In defiance of this endless cycle of death and destruction, Danarshi and Aelleena decided upon the birth of a third child, she of who was born a girl and named: Leanarhi.



The birth of children such as Leanarhi was much a symbol of the resilience of the draenei, the race who refused to submit to the will of the Burning Legion in hope and passion of permanently settling upon a world and finding a means of delivering retribution upon the demons who have haunted them for innumerable years.

Unlike Kai’soran, Leanarhi was far from the first of draenei children. Since Argus, the draenei had grown accustomed to their struggles. Many among them were worn, seasoned and incredibly experienced. Though there were many who Leanarhi could learn from, there was ‘’much’’ that she had to prove. Learning from the mistakes from the upbringing of their previous children, Danarshi and Aelleena did not attempt to force a particular path upon Leanarhi, allowing her the freedom to decide upon her own fate.

Leanarhi grew to be secluded, yet resilient character, one of few words or relationships though a powerful will, much due to the inspiration of her people. She accepted the guidance of the naaru as any draenei would, though only as a means of plotting her course through life; she was yet to decide if her future rested within the Light. Deep down, Leanarhi could already feel as though she did not belong among the anchorites, vindicators, mages or even harbingers of her people; none of these practices felt satisfying to her. Her heart had told her that her purpose remained hidden, only to be revealed in the future. Until that moment, she would wait, patiently.

The Great Dark Beyond
By now, Danarshi had witnessed countless unique locations – more than he could hope to properly recall - both within the vastness of the Great Dark Beyond itself and on the surface of various planets. Some of these worlds represented sheer beauty, whilst others were scarcely bearable to even tread upon. Each had their own forms of life, some of which were intelligent, though not all of them were welcoming towards their draenei guests. In the end, none of these planets had remained hidden from the Burning Legion for long. Once found, they were all met with the same fate: annihilation.

Approximately twenty-five thousand years following their exodus from Argus, Kil’jaeden remained unrelenting in his pursuit of the draenei, longing for revenge over their betrayal of the man'ari. Though the draenei had long since adapted to this, their fear would soon be reignited, when the naaru K’ara was gravely injured during the Genedar's approach of another planet. Her final act was a warning for the draenei to eject her from the vessel, before she fell into a state of Void corruption that is common among dying naaru. She lashed out at K'ure and D'ore, who were shielded by Velen himself. The Prophet ejected her from the ship, as she requested, but it was too late; K'ure and D'ore were weakened by the assault, unable to properly land the Genedar. The dimensional ship was doomed to crash into the unknown planet.

Exiles' Refuge
The Genedar was soon to pierce the clear blue skies of the planet that it approached. Though it plummeted into the planet's soil, the dimensional ship, and most of the draenei inside, survived. Unfortunately, among the casualties of the crash was D'ore, which devastated Danarshi, Aelleena and hundreds of other draenei. Not all was lost however, as the planet was found not only to be unscathed by the Burning Legion, but habitable as well. As the draenei drifted from the vessel, their eyes were met by rolling fields of lush, green grass, rich soil and beams of warming sunlight; they had arrived within the land known as Nagrand. Despite the crash, the worries of the draenei were swept away by such a stunning sight.



Draenor, meaning "Exiles' Refuge" in Draenei, was the name which the draenei bestowed upon this new world. From this moment fourth, they would consider it home. At last, had they found their eagerly sought escape from the Burning Legion? Danarshi, among others, were not so convinced of this upon taking their first steps on Draenor's soil, though few of them could deny the sheer beauty that this world was basked in. To Danarshi, Aelleena and Irenora, Nagrand was, in a sense, similar to Amanalar; this on its own was a comforting thought for them.

Kai'soran specifically took a shining roll in aiding with the establishment of draenei settlements within Nagrand. Despite their fondness of this reminiscent land, Danarshi, Aelleena and Irenora were among the first to venture past its perimeter, anxious to discover what was awaiting them beyond the bordering mountain ranges. In consequence of this, and to some of their regret, their time within Nagrand was only brief.

During their departure, they bestowed a touching farewell upon Kai'soran and Leanarhi, who had each decided to remain in Nagrand. Due to the impervious bond that had formed between them during their long journey throughout the Great Dark Beyond, their separation was significantly difficult upon them. Without further delay, Danarshi, Aelleena and Irenora set off for the distant, unknown lands of Draenor.



Their journey was one to be remembered, as they passed through lands of luscious jungles, barren deserts, freezing blizzards, towering spires, everlasting night and gleaming forests of golden flora, filled with the comforting sounds of countless forms of life. The land of gleaming forests became known as Talador to the draenei. Located within the centre of the continent, Talador was considered as the heart of Draenor, both literally and, eventually in draenei society, figuratively.

The City of the Dead


At this point, Danarshi and Aelleena were considered as near masters of the Holy Light. They were among the first of the draenei to support the idea of constructing a grand structure within Talador that would serve the purposes of housing fallen draenei and the corpse of the D'ore. This structure was named Auchindoun, meaning “City of the Dead” in Draenei.

Accompanying the construction of Auchindoun was the creation of an order known as the Auchenai, who would be led by the draenei Exarch Maladaar. The purpose of the Auchenai was to serve as the sole keepers of Auchindoun, interring the departed into its halls and performing their funeral rites, among other practices which were considered of utmost importance to the draenei. Danarshi and Aelleena were incorporated into their ranks upon the very day that the order was formed, heralding their new-found purpose as caretakers of the deceased. After having witnessed such a vast loss of life throughout the span of their lives, it seemed only fitting that they would dedicate themselves to honouring the fallen.



Secretly, Auchindoun's purpose ran far deeper than most beyond the Auchenai's trusted had realised: the crypt which housed the corpse of D'ore would serve as a means of "nursing" the fallen naaru to health. Although D'ore's injuries were severe, he had not fully perished; he was instead forced into a Void state, like K'ara though less intensive, as his injuries were far more severe. During the Void state, the naaru attracts souls and absorbs them as a means of recovering their vitality. The Void naaru continues to absorb spirits until it regenerates from its darkened state and fully regains its connection with the Light.

Protecting D'ore in his vulnerable state was a duty that only the most privileged members of the Auchenai, including Danarshi and Aelleena, were entrusted to fulfil. This responsibility concerned not only D'ore's safety, though the secrecy of his Void state as well, as the Auchenai feared his consumption of spirits would cause a panic throughout the draenei populace outside of Auchindoun. While most draenei assumed that the spirits of their loved ones were approaching Auchindoun to find eternal rest, in truth they were only passing into their ultimate demise, drawn and absorbed by D'ore. Only the most venerated of draenei had their spirits preserved and often placed inside of functioning constructs by members of the Auchenai who were known as soulbinders.

The concept of D'ore absorbing souls was initially disturbing to Danarshi, though after all that the naaru had done for his people, he did not allow it to damage his faith in them. To his perception, the naaru, though capable of falling to the Void, were inherently creatures of pure Light, forcing him to consider that the spirits who were absorbed by them were, in a sense, becoming one with the Light itself; this was a popular opinion that comforted Danarshi and many Auchenai.

For all ranks and roles within the Auchenai, there were many commitments to fulfil within Auchindoun, and the most important of them was the caretaking of draenei corpses and spirits. While the remains were interred within the crypts after receiving their respective funeral rites, the spirits were arguably the prominent focus of the Auchenai. A sect of the Auchenai, the soulpriests, utilized a combination of Light and Shadow to purify the spirits of any anguish they were suffering in result of their death. It was possible for a soul to find itself lost within the Shadowlands, where they could not locate D'ore. In purifying them, the soulpriests allowed them to overcome this.

During the fledgling days of the Auchenai, when it was decided that the Void would be utilized to purify the deceased, Danarshi and Aelleena were outraged by this. They were among an opposition that disputed against the idea, though their numbers were too insignificant to sway the decision of Maladaar. Though this was difficult for them overcome, they were shown the importance of shadow magic in soothing spirits, and they ultimately accepted it. Normally, only soulpriests, soulbinders and death-speakers were permitted to wield the Shadow, though only after undergoing many months or years of intensive training with the Auchenai’s monks. If there were any who could control the whispers of the Void, it was them.

Deep down, Danarshi was intrigued by the control which the wielders of Shadow within the Auchenai possessed. During his tutelage as an anchorite, he was told that the Void represents the darker, more negative side of a person’s psyche, while the Light represents the brighter, more positive side. He had viewed the Void as immensely dangerous, though after spending years among its wielders within the Auchenai, he formed lingering doubts of this. Moving forward, he would be certain to maintain a watchful eye over them, for more reasons than mere suspicion.

Though spirits within the Shadowlands are inherently invisible to those within the Material Plane, the Auchenai devised an ingenious concoction that granted sight into the Shadowlands for those who ingested it. Only the soulpriests, soulbinders and death-speakers were permitted to consume it. Danarshi, who remained a grand anchorite within the Auchenai, was not granted such sight. Despite this however, he could still feel the presence of souls lingering throughout the halls of Auchindoun. Though he could not see them, he could sense that they were there. The more years that flowed past him, the more that he felt unsettled by this. He had started to wonder if the lack of sight into the Shadowlands was more maddening than the ability to do so.

Danarshi’s interest in the soulpriests was steadily increasing. Thoughts of joining them had started to weave their way into his mind. Only the lingering fears and doubts had driven him away from this course; he was not yet certain if such powers and responsibilities would be a detriment or an advantage. For now, Danarshi would uphold his duty as a grand anchorite, which primarily involved the healing of the sick and injured, whilst watching over the weakened D’ore, who had still yet to recover from his Void state.

The City of Light
With her interests lying outside of Auchindoun, Irenora once more sought a different path to follow than her parents. Prior to Danarshi and Aelleena's initiation into the Auchenai, she learned of the draenei's plans to assemble a capital city within Talador. Wishing to adopt a more prominent role within draenei society, she wished her parents a sincere farewell and immediately set out for it. Located upon the ruins of an ancient ogre city known as Goria, this new city was named Shattrath, meaning "City of Light" in Draenei. For years, Irenora would utilze her magical prowess to assist in its construction.

Following the completion of Shattrath City's dome complex, Irenora was among the first who were incorporated into the ranks of Prophet Velen's new order, the Aldor, who would reside atop a rise within the city. Although they primarily stood for the Light and the naaru, with many anchorites residing within their ranks, Irenora's arcane prowess would still prove as significantly useful to them. Though she remained unwavering in her dedication as a magus, the Aldor influenced her opinion of the Light, increasing her respect and admiration of it. Irenora had discovered her calling upon Draenor, and with this thought, she had found her comfort there.

Purpose
Approximately fifty years following the arrival of the draenei upon Draenor, Leanarhi, who had long since matured into adulthood, was still yet to find her purpose. With impatience having consumed her, she mustered her courage, wished Kai'soran her farewells and set out upon a journey of insight. For weeks, she would wander the lands of Draenor in search of her calling. She withstood the harsh weathers of Draenor's most dangerous regions, until her journey had led her into the frozen lands of Frostfire Ridge, where she soon found herself caught within an intense snowstorm. Leanarhi, having not packed the correct supplies to survive such conditions, realised her foolishness in traversing into the Ridge. Unable to find her way through the fog, the freezing temperatures took their toll upon her, as death started to call for her name.

Shortly after falling into unconsciousness, Leanarhi was miraculously rescued by an orc male by the name of Brundak Snowstalk, who was a hunter for the Frostwolf clan. Brundak, despite how puzzled he was over this unfamiliar creature, carried her to his secluded shack within the wilderness and nursed her to health over the span of multiple days. Fortunately for her, he had dealt with similar situations many times throughout his past; Frostfire Ridge was infamous for claiming the lives of the unwary. Unable to understand Brundak, much of Leanarhi's recovery was spent learning the fundementals of Orcish. Fortunately for Brundak, the draenei were a fast learning species, and within a week, she could already speak simple Orcish.



Brundak, fearful that the Frostwolf clan would have not accepted his nursing of a draenei, felt fortunate that his home was situated a distance away from their capital settlement, Wor'gol. A few days later, Leanarhi had found the strength to return outdoors. She insisted that she accompany Brundak on one of his hunting trips, and though he was hesitant, he accepted her wish. The two of them set out in pursuit of icehoof clefthoof, which were found most commonly in the northern reaches of Frostfire Ridge. Outfitted with the correct supplies and clothing, Leanarhi was now prepared to face the harsh conditions of the wilds.

Brundak demonstrated his remarkable skill with a bow, executing an icehoof bull with ease; suffice it to say, Leanarhi was impressed and intrigued. She requested that Brundak allow her to try her hand at his bow, and he obliged. After showing her the correct methods of handling the bow, Leanarhi managed to fire her first arrow with relative success, despite the fact that it did, unfortunately, bounce awkwardly off of the surface of a nearby boulder, rather than hitting a target of flesh and blood. Brundak was surprised enough that she had even managed to successfully fire her first arrow from the string. With a hearty chuckle, he reassured the ashamed Leanarhi.

For the remainder of that day, Brundak willingly mentored Leanarhi in the art of a hunter. By the day's conclusion, Leanarhi was already hitting larger targets. Fortunately for her, this would mark only the beginning of her training; she had found a natural affinity for hunting, and Brundak recognized her potential. Though Brundak, deep down, initially questioned himself as to why he was aiding a foreigner to such a degree, he could not help but feel drawn to her; it was as though they had a connection with one other - that fate had willed for them to meet. Leanarhi decided upon remaining within Frostfire Ridge in pursuit her training.

After three years passed by, Leanarhi had not once left the confounds of Frostfire Ridge. She had already arisen as a near-expert with a bow; only few targets remained quick enough to evade her accuracy. Though she had yet to surpass Brundak in skill, with many years of practice ahead of her, she would, some day, outshine her mentor. It was difficult for him not to be jealous of her surprising achievements in such a short period of time. Despite the three years that they had spent together, Brundak ensured that Leanarhi remained a well guarded secret from the Frostwolf clan, though the temptation of revealing her existence had begun to buckle down upon him.

Months later, Brundak bundled his courage and approached the Frostwolf chieftan himself, informing him about the presence of Leanarhi, and questioning if she would be allowed within Wor'gol. Fortunately, the Frostwolves were among the most peaceful of the orcish clans. The Frostwolf chieftan, though disappointed in Brundak's secrecy, accepted that he had befriended a member of a foreign species. Though they did not directly oppose Leanarhi, she was denied from venturing near Wor'gol, and was permitted only to remain within the care of Brundak, far away from the settlement's walls.

Feeling indebted that the Frostwolves had not set upon her, Leanarhi spent much of the next two years assisting Brundak in retrieving food for the clan. Though she would not deliver the meat herself, Brundak was certain to inform them of her committed contribution. Ultimately, her trust and favour with them increased, until she, with the influence of Brundak, was allowed to accompany the clan on few of their hunting trips into Nagrand, where they pursued the local clefthoof, elekk and talbuk herds. Despite the Frostwolf clan's increasing leniency with her, she remained heavily distrusted and was rarely allowed to leave the side of Brundak during their expeditions. In consequence of this, she could not visit her people, including Kai'soran, which proved difficult for her.

Their visits to Nagrand had regularly taken them nearby the wreckage of the Genedar, which the orcs had since named Oshu'gun, meaning "Mountain of Spirits" in Orcish. K'ure, like D'ore and K'ara, was injured in the crash, placing him into the Void state. Unlike his fellow naaru however, he remained within the core of the vessel, where he attracted and absorbed spirits. The orcs had not realised this, and viewed Oshu'gun as a sacred monolith of spiritual properties. Though Leanarhi was aware that Oshu'gun was merely a dimensional ship, she did not understand why the spirits were attracted by it. Regardless, in fear of offending the Frostwolf clan, she did not inform them of the Genedar's true nature.

Seven years following their initial meeting, Leanarhi and Brundak had developed an unanticipated love for one another. Despite knowing that they would never have been allowed an official marriage by the Frostwolf clan, they openly expressed their feelings to each other. Though they were now lovers, they were far from finished with their hunting endeavours, and would continue to hone their abilities for decades to come. Leanarhi would never be permitted within Wor'gol, though she ceased to care. Over the years, they would improve the scale and aesthetic of their homestead, with the structure itself having been inspired by Brundak, representing orcish architecture, whilst the decorative aesthetics were inspired by Leanarhi, representing draenei culture. It was an unorthodox design, though they found satisfaction in it.

The Temple of Karabor
Kai'soran had remained strictly located within Nagrand since his arrival upon Draenor, where he helped to preserve his people's civilization there. When not concerned about the draenei, he often maintained a watchful eye over the Genedar, ensuring that no malicious force would enter the dimensional ship and harm K'ure. It intrigued and amused Kai'soran that the orcs had viewed the wreckage as a sacred site of their people. Fortunately, in wake of this, they treated the site with significant care and respect, leaving the steadfast vindicator without a reason to interfere.

Life for the draenei within Nagrand had almost always proved peaceful. A century following the crash of the Genedar, Kai'soran felt as though his duty there was complete. Since long after hearing of the Temple of Karabor within Shadowmoon Valley, Kai'soran was anxious to lend his services there, though his commitments within Nagrand had prevented him from doing so. Prepared now to advance his service to the Light, he, and a small gathering of draenei strangers, initiated a journey across the continent.

During his journey, Kai'soran witnessed many of the wonders that the draenei had constructed since their arrival upon Draenor, most importantly Shattrath City and Auchindoun, where he was briefly able to reunite with Irenora, Danarshi and Aelleena. Without any additional delays, Kai'soran and his group reached their destination within a week, safely arriving at Karabor. Kai'soran was astounded by the architecture of the Temple, which, to his perception, was unmatched by Shattrath and Auchindoun.

Kai'soran was graciously welcomed within Karabor, heralded for his venerability as a vindicator. Shortly following his arrival, he ascended to the rank of high vindicator. In honour of the ancient history of his father, Kai'soran would proudly serve as a Karabor peacekeeper. As the Temple was a place of utmost respect towards the Light and the naaru, he spent many hours conveying his devotion to them in praying for the recovery of K'ure and D'ore, as well as mentoring fledgling vindicators and healing the sick and injured. Kai'soran had undoubtedly found his purpose within Karabor, and he was proud to call it home.

Darkened Descent
As the years passed by him, Danarshi could feel the toll that Auchindoun was having upon his own mental health; it was incredibly difficult having to live among the deceased from day to night, most especially for individuals similar to Danarshi, they who had seen so much death in their time, and had lost near to all loved ones. When Danarshi slept, he was almost always haunted by the angry ghosts whom wandered the hallways, giving him constant nightmares, and even night terrors, as he was woken by the terrifying faces of the pained deceased, screaming out at him, crying for his aid, bellowing in agony, or, occasionally, all at the same time, all of this seemingly occurring within his own mind; this was unlike any other dream, however, because Danarshi knew that what he was experiencing was, in fact, no illusion: it was all real. Shadow began to course through Danarshi's mind as he pushed forward with his duties as an anchorite within Auchindoun, his positivity transforming into negativity, as his character slowly shifted into something else.

Still, Danarshi could hear the spirits of the dead, calling out to him, speaking his name in whispers, even during his waking hours; there was no escape from them. Not even a century had passed since Auchindoun's construction, and he could feel himself changing, faster than he ever had before. At last, darkness grasped at Danarshi's shoulder yet again. Danarshi knew that the time had come for him to step up and answer the call of the fallen who cried out at him so tirelessly through the ticking hours of the day, brazenly claiming his destiny within the Auchenai as a soulpriest, forced upon him more by angst, rather than pure courage. As a member of the Auchenai, Danarshi had already trained with their monks before, although in order to become a soulpriest, he had no choice but to endure a level of discipline that was far more difficult upon his being than before. For months, Danarshi trained with the monks of the Auchenai, living through experiences that would scar many; he was taught how to cope with traumatic events, and how to exercise control over his emotions at all times. Most importantly of all, whilst Danarshi honed his meditation abilities, he was, at long last, taught how to wield the shadow.

When Danarshi's training came to an end, he was seen as ready to embrace the role of a soulpriest. There was little delay following his teaching, as he was presented the shadowy concoction that would forever allow him to see the wandering dead; after what was one of the mightiest, longest drawn breathes of his life, he consumed said potion, its taste matching a description far worse than foul. His vision wavered and multiplied, and only moments later, at last, he could see them, the spirits, wandering the halls that he stood within, some floating above the very ground, and others passing straight through walls, not to be seen again. Most chillingly of all, as the dead came into Danarshi's view, many of them, at least a dozen in total, stood idly nearby him, staring at him with blank, wide, glowing eyes; he did not know what to make of it, and despite his discipline, he could not help but feel frightened by the sight. Aelleena knew that Danarshi had been undergoing the transition into a soulpriest, and rather than being pleased with his accomplishments, she was upset. For countless years she had studied alongside her beloved husband in order to gain mastery over the Light as anchorites. Although the soulpriests fulfilled a brave and noble role, Aelleena knew Danarshi more than all others; his mental stability had not been healthy for many thousands of years, and Auchindoun had only made it frighteningly worse. Aelleena was concerned for him, uncertain as to whether or not his new role would have been too much for him to bare.

Time only continued to pass by, though upon Draenor, time had been functioning much differently for Danarshi, feeling more like a forceful wind, rather than a gentle breeze. Since Danarshi had consumed the shadowy elixir, his personality had only continued to shift and change, shaping him into an incredibly isolated and unpleasant individual, often speaking words of pure nonsense, to both himself, his bond mate, and complete strangers. Not only did his frequent interaction with the dead change him for the worse, though it even began to twist away at his dreams even further; any moment during his sleep when he was not being haunted by the restless dead, he witnessed terrifying visions that contained the endless pain and suffering of his people, the trillions of native lives lost upon the worlds scorched by the Burning Legion, and the grisly deaths of the loved ones that he had lost upon Argus so very long ago, they who had begun to feel alarmingly fresh within his mind once more.

Eventually, even Danarshi himself had begun to recognise just how dire the struggle against his own sanity had become; despite how disciplined he was trained to be, it was, arguably, still not enough. Although Danarshi's training among the Auchenai monks had undoubtedly managed to preserve his sanity across multiple decades, it was inevitable that it could only have remained effective for only so long, considering that each and every day, he spent his hours dealing with ghosts and corpses, laying the broken bodies to rest deep within Auchindoun's crypts, and guiding the lost spirits to D'ore, his encounters with them having very rarely ever proved as pleasant; most of these spirits were violently traumatised from their causes of death, and, primarily, it was Danarshi whom they vented their negativity upon, when he attempted to purify them; the draenei, a race that was capable of surviving years immeasurable, rarely left their bodies in a pleasant state. Danarshi could feel himself changing, and his active awareness of this had only helped to madden him further; he progressively became more disturbed, anxious, hateful, vengeful, and a another plethora of negative emotions, each corpse and spirit reminding him more and more of the suffering that the Burning Legion had forced upon his people across the eons. Time was slowing down to Danarshi, and he could feel it; it felt as though the walls of Auchindoun were beginning to close in around him, and his fight against it was futile.

Aelleena could not comprehend Danarshi's bizarre and troublesome change in behaviour. She expected that his personality would become different, though not to such a frightful degree. Whenever she would attempt to create social interaction with her husband, he would simply become excessively flustered and annoyed, dismissing her with anger and frustration; at times, he often even ignored her presence entirely, almost as though she did not even exist. In reflection of such neglectful treatment, their relationship began to wither away at the seams, nailing a crack into their bond that had once stood so strong, so brightly; the relationship that was once thought to have been impenetrable was damaged, and to Aelleena, that was overwhelming. The most tragic of all facts at this time was that Danarshi himself had become so lost within the prison that his mind had become, too astray within his negative side to even realise what he had done to Aelleena; it was indescribably depressing to her.

Noble Intent
Frequently, the Auchenai sent caravans either ripe with, or in search of supplies, deployed to draenei settlements located within Talador, such as Telmor, Tuurem, Aruuna, and most especially Shattrath City. On each caravan trip, differing members of the Auchenai were granted the option to embark upon the trip, acting as an opportunity for the Auchenai to find temporary release from the City of the Dead, which proved to be a limited, though refreshing breather from their duties, acting as a form of minor aid to the stability of the mental health of certain members of the Auchenai, Danarshi notably having being one of these members, without a single doubt.

Many, many years following the initial descent of Danarshi's mental stability, even after the remnants of love between Aelleena and Danarshi had all but dwindled into near nothingness, there was a certain day that contained skies shrouded in blackened clouds, looming over the horizon of Talador, a storm soon to seep in over the heads of the Auchenai who travelled with the supplies caravan on that particular day, Danarshi having been with these travellers on said day. They ventured down the road leading to Tuurem from Auchindoun, the attention of the caravan soon caught by the sound of audible, sorrowful weeping, the attention of the concerned Auchenai caught by the sight of blood, red in colour, soaked into a nearby patch of grass, trailing behind a concealing set of bushes, and into the thicket of the forest before them; the Talador wilderness was not the safest place on Draenor, although this was considered as being a rare occurrence, most especially if the blood belonged to that of a sentient being.

Undecided on who was to be responsible for investigating this disturbing find, as it was seen as crucial that the caravan continue travelling to Tuurem, so that it could arrive there before the brewing storm hit, Danarshi, determination brewing up within his heart, witnessing a level of excitement that he had not bared witness too for several decades, accepted the role of investigating the mysterious turn of events, much to the surprise of his companions. Danarshi, sitting upon the caravan itself, climbed his way down to the ground before proceeding cautiously into the bushes before him, the caravan continuing on it's route to Tuurem, the distance to Auchindoun only a walking distance away from Danarshi. The sound of grieving grew heavier and louder the further that he pushed into the thicket of the forest.

Upon passing through a wall of thick shrubbery, it was then that the eyes of Danarshi were met with the sight of an orcish woman, down upon her knees in a pool of blood that did not even belong to her. An infant, her son, who looked almost newborn, was wrapped tightly within the woman's arms. An orcish man laid lifeless beside the mother, proving to be the source of the blood soaked ground. Through his initial evaluation, it was exceedingly simple for Danarshi to figure out that the three, orcish characters in front of him were of family to each other. Beside the fallen man laid three corpses, belonging to that of the arrakoa, these certain arrakoa serving as members of a faction known as the Adherents of Rukhmar, they who notably possessed the ability to take flight, unlike their cursed, wingless kin.

Although the Adherents of Rukhmar were native to the Spires of Arak, and were far more numerous within such a land, they would often pass beyond their own borders in search of artifacts knowingly related to the Apexis, an arrakoa civilisation that had fallen to extinction long into the past. Due to their intrusion, these arrakoa occasionally presented themselves as a danger to both orcish, and draenei life, and these arrakoa had certainly been the cause of the event that was set out before Danarshi's eyes; he could not help but feel pitiful for the unfortunate mother who had survived long enough to witness such an atrocity. The woman, clearly aware of Danarshi's presence, stared up at him with pleading eyes that were drowned in her own tears. Upon pointing out her dormant child did Danarshi realise that the infant appeared to be deceased, a deep slash etched into the chest of the orcish child, clearly caused by the attacking arrakoa. “...P-please... help...” was all that came from the woman's lips in the draenei tongue, her understanding of such a language proving as being at a minimal level.

Silent, although feeling great sympathy for the grieving woman, Danarshi knelt before the woman and gazed the motionless child down. Upon closing his eyes in concentration, Danarshi placed his large hand atop the bleeding chest of the boy, the Holy radiance of the Light coursed through the body of the child, at first, proving to have no effect, though only the very moment before Danarshi declared the boy beyond rescue did his small, fragile right arm, twitch with the spark of life, shocking both Danarshi, and the orcish mother. Danarshi continued channelling the mending effects of the Holy Light into the body of the child, the deep cut across his chest having sealed into a mere scar. At last, the child had awoken from near death, immediately falling into tears, coughing and choking, the mother ecstatic over the revival of her son; her own tears continued to roll down her own cheeks, although not of sadness, but rather of joy, and relief.

Such a display of glee would be sufficient enough to place a smile on the faces of even the darkest of characters, Danarshi proving as being no exception. As he proceeded to revert his healing focus unto the slain man beside them, clearly the father of the child, it proved to be of no use, as all of the remaining life that had resided within the man's body had fled from him, his spirit having already moved on, likely to seal its fate among the draenei souls within Auchindoun. Danarshi rose back up on to his hooves and took a step back from the motionless man, the woman having at last turned her eye to her husband, before gazing up at Danarshi rather questioningly, Danarshi having simply shook his head at her with a deep frown, silently informing her that the man had not made it. Upon learning of such a tragedy, the woman collapsed by the deceased man, and her tears seeped into the bloodied leather cowl upon his back.

Danarshi, having felt tremendously downhearted for the loss that the woman had endured, knowing much about the loss of family, leaned by her, and placed a comforting hand upon her back, before her watering eyes glanced back up at him. “What is... your name?” were the questioning words she spoke to him, Danarshi having stared her down in silence for a matter of seconds, before at last responding with “Danarshi” in his own tongue, knowing nothing at all about the orcish tongue. A weak, though thankful smile, emerged upon the face of the woman as she replied with “Thank you, draenei... Thank you. Leave, please... I bury husband now”. Danarshi did not express a single stroke of care for her lack of fluidity when it came to the draenei tongue, and simply issued the woman a respectful bow and a parting smile, before turning back the way he had come. Danarshi had saved countless lives beforehand as an anchorite, though never before had he felt something quite like this; upon being able to save the life of a Draenor native, it proved to him that great friends could exist within more than his own people, and the realisation warmed his heart.

Little had Danarshi known that the family of orcs he had come across were of Gorgrond origin, and represented the Mok'Nathal clan. The family had been on the run from their clan, who often treated them with cruelty, due to their orcish origin, many of the Mok'Nathal being of half-ogre blood, which, on most occasions, gave them towering tallness, superior strength, and a multitude of other frightening benefits. When the orcish mother, Ruika, and her child, ventured back to Gorgrond, following the burial of her husband, who was known as Drathas, they were easily tracked down by the Mok'Nathal clan, Ruika and the child forced back into their ranks. The child became known as Danarsho, in reference to Danarshi, his saviour.

The War Machine
Many decades following the passing of Brundak, Leanarhi lived her days primarily alone, within the walls of the home that they had once maintained together. Leanarhi went through a great deal of effort to conserve her house over the course of years that were nearly uncountable to the orcs, orcish architecture not normally designed to last long beyond the life span of one of their own people. Leanarhi was, however, not without purpose, as she continued to do what she, by now, knew and did best: hunt, in honour and respect of her deceased love, and the Frostwolf clan, who had come to noticably respect her determination following the loss of her partner, despite Leanarhi ceasing her participation in the great Frostwolf clan hunting expeditions to Nagrand, following Brundak's passing; she was still not allowed behind the walls of Wor'gol, although it was clear that she was appreciated by some of the orcs that lived within, or so she thought.

Little did Leanarhi suspect, a time of enormous peril would once again wash over the draenei people, who, at last, had found comfort upon a new world, convinced that they had finally found escape from the Burning Legion. Little did the draenei know that they were anything but correct, as, at last, the Burning Legion had found them, and Kil'jaeden did not plan on allowing their escape, as they had already managed several dozens of times across the span of the past twenty five thousand years. Rather than performing a direct approach, as the Burning Legion had done many times before, Kil'jaeden decided to take the draenei by complete and utter surprise, in a way that they would not have possibly been expecting.

Kil'jaeden managed to conjure the beginning of a storm of concern and mistrust for the draenei throughout the orcish people, following his contact with the crippled orc, Gul'dan, whom had been declared an outcast from his clan and then rejected by the very elements of Draenor. Kil'jaeden offered Gul'dan immense Fel power, in exchange for his loyalty in uniting the orcish clans against the draenei. Gul'dan unanimously accepted Kil'jaeden's dark bargain, setting out upon a quest that would soon give birth to the orcish Horde, and one of the darkest events in draenei history.

The manipulation of the orcish clans was not an easy, nor fast process, the Frostwolf clan having proven as being the most resilient. As years ticked by, and more clans grew loyal to the cause of the Horde, the Frostwolves had ultimately been given a mere two choices of fate: to accept the Horde, or to be destroyed by it. A reluctant Durotan did not wish the death of his clan, and pledged their loyalty to the Horde, joining in the rising war against the draenei.

Frostfire Ridge remained a safe haven for Leanarhi, or any other draenei, no longer. Leanarhi, upon a perilous hunting expedition atop a towering cliff, was unexpectedly caught by a large group of marauding orcs, which led her to the cliff's jagged ledge. These orcs came as both a surprise and a shock to Leanarhi upon a dire realisation: they were of the Frostwolf clan. Baring Frostwolf banners whilst mounted on the backs of ferocious white wolves, it was of no doubt that this group had ventured from Wor'gol with intentions that were not of peace.

The orcs, resulting to aggressive snarling and chanting, further cornered Leanarhi by the edge of the cliff in which she was situated, lessening her options of escape. Surrounded, it was only a moment more before the orcs attacked her. Leanarhi was at a harrowing disadvantage; she held no desire to battle against the orcs, though, for the sake of her own well being, she was left without option. With all of the skill and ingenuity that she could muster, Leanarhi fought against her own will, battling against the terrifying aggressors who had proceeded to leap from their wolves and into the fray.

The battle lasted for seconds, Leanarhi having managed to kill a number of the Frostwolf attackers with pointed arrows and sharpened steel. Despite Leanarhi's greatest efforts at repelling the invading force, it did not prove sufficient enough against the overwhelming numbers in which she had been pitted against, who only continued to push closer and closer towards her, regardless of those who fell. No huntress could possibly have fired fast enough to repel such a force, Leanarhi hastily left trapped by the edge of the cliff that she had been pushed towards, without escape; she was defeated, and she knew this.

Leanarhi was left with two, tragic options: to die by the sword of a Frostwolf, or to plummet to her own death. For Leanarhi, now, there was no time to think, though only to act. Upon reflex, the draenei woman raised each of her arms to her sides, much like a bird, her bow still in hand, before simply allowing herself to fall, barely a second to spare, as the charging orcs stomped upon the very spot from where she fell. Over the edge of the cliff did her life come to a close, too quickly for anybody to even comprehend for such an ancient being.

Leanarhi, a soul with such an open, kind, young and enthusiastic heart, had become among the first of the victims to the rising orc war machine, despite her isolation from her own people, something which still could not save her. Leanarhi died without knowing the intention of her killers, unknowing of what had manipulated them in such a violent manner, and unaware to the rise of the Horde. Of all possible fates, death by the hand of the clan whom she had grown to love and trust had never been imagined by her, and it left her with a broken heart upon the moment of her demise.

The Siege of Karabor
Following the death of Leanarhi, soon came the devastating fall of Karabor, Kai'soran having been present within the temple during the day that the orcish armies laid siege upon the sacred, draenic grounds; this was their first major assault upon the draenei, and Kai'soran bared personal witness to it. Fortunately for Karabor's defenders, they had been expecting an assault upon the city, following the destruction of Embaari Village, obliterated by Gul'dan, who had arisen a colossal volcano of Fel energy beneath the village itself, this volcano soon to have been known as the Hand of Gul'dan, a testament of his will over his people, and the influence of the Burning Legion; this provided the evidence that the draenei had needed in order to ensure that they had been involved in the orc's sudden warmongering intentions.



Despite the inordinate efforts of Karabor's peacekeepers, they of whom had managed to successfully repel the invaders for several minutes, were unsuspecting of the powerful weapon in which the Horde had hidden beneath their sleeve: the Dark Star, the shell of the naaru K'ara, who had fallen into a voided state upon the crash landing of the Genedar. With the Dark Star at their disposal, the orcs unleashed its energies upon the valiant defenders of Karabor, annihilating them with ease in mere moments.

Although Kai'soran had been located upon the front lines of Karabor's defensive force, the Light had shone upon him throughout the course of the battle, deeming him as among the lucky few of the peacekeepers who were not to be killed by the shadowy onslaught of the Dark Star. As the temple's defences were abruptly shattered, it was apparent that Karabor was destined to fall, Kai'soran having been wise enough to immediately realise this. Knowing that he could do naught to save the beloved temple, the gallant vindicator quickly turned his attention to the nearest surviving peacekeepers and citizens who remained sane beyond the influence of the Shadow, having proceeded to rally them into a singular group, comprised of four vindicators, who were made of up of three males and a single female, and ten civilians.

Their window was short; Kai'soran was forced to formulate a plan of escape. Unknowing of those who fled to Karabor's docks in order to escape the temple by sea, Kai'soran led his group to a nearby stable, comprised of loyal elekk and talbuk. Upon mounting the beasts, Kai'soran openly took charge in leading the group to safety, their mounts having hastily carried them beyond the city's front exit. They had avoided a physical clash against the orcish hordes by mere metres, though they were far from evading them. Archers fired upon the fleeing group in volleys, many missing, though some striking through the flesh and bone of six civilians and one, male vindicator, each one of them having fallen from their mounts, trampled beneath the frantic, speeding animals.

Whilst Kai'soran and his fellow survivors sealed their escape, orcs poured into the grounds of Karabor, slaughtering all remaining draenei that they could find, sparing them no mercy or remorse. Many fortunate draenei had found their escape at the temple's harbour, including Prophet Velen, who had been present at the temple throughout its fall, each of these survivors having set sail for Shattrath City. Many more of the draenei had not been so lucky, the majority of these unfortunate having been slain, whilst the others were taken away as prisoners of the Horde, soon to be used for reasons that were nothing more than purely insidious.

Kai'soran was unable to avoid feeling a heavy pang of guilt for the seven draenei who had perished upon the escape from Karabor; it had been his duty to see them to safety, and, in that, he had failed. Despite his sorrow for the fallen, Kai'soran had no choice but to push onward, for the sake of those who had been fortunate enough to survive. As the most venerable of the remaining vindicators, it was unanimously agreed upon that it be he who leads the group forward, Kai'soran having been in acceptance of the group's foresight.

Kai'soran, in his leadership, proceeded to guide the group around the outskirts of Shadowmoon Valley, fortunate to have ventured across the land quite extensively in the past, both on his initial journey to Karabor, and on multiple other occasions during his stationing there. He knew where the orcs would be most present and how to avoid their movement patterns and settlements. Knowing that Shadowmoon Valley was a safe haven for the draenei no longer, Kai'soran decided upon a journey to Talador. At this moment, they set off, embarking upon a long and treacherous journey that would soon to take them to the City of the Dead, Auchindoun. Deep within his heart, Kai'soran feared for the lives of his parents and sisters; if Auchindoun, nor Shattrath had yet been attacked, then he had to reach them, and he had to find his family, before it was too late.

Apprehension
The Auchenai had been anything but oblivious to the rise of the Horde and their violent motives; upon the conjuring of the Hand of Gul'dan, many draenei from Karabor to Shattrath had grown aware of the Burning Legion's presence, and news of Karabor's fall travelled no less swiftly. Anxiety crept its way into the heart of draenei society, and among the most affected was Danarshi, who, in his instability, was quick to fall into a state of panic, not only for the sake of his son, who had been residing within Karabor, though for that of his people as a whole, as well, who remained without a means of escape from Draenor, a fact that he had all but forgotten.

Despite Danarshi's loyalty to the Auchenai, he was in doubt; if Karabor had fallen before the Horde with such ease, then would such a fate be tailored any differently for Auchindoun? Although the sacred mausoleum's caretakers and defences were far from a factor to scoff at, they would not stand a chance against a force of overwhelming numbers, that of which the Horde presented; the more that Danarshi thought on the subject, the more that he began to see this.

With a decision that rivaled that of his induction as a soulpriest in scale, Danarshi came upon the belief that Auchindoun was soon to fall, and that only at Shattrath City would his people harbour a chance at retaliation. In consequence of his conclusions, Danarshi decisively wandered the halls of Auchindoun in search of Aelleena; their relationship had only further fallen from grace, solely due to himself, this he had, alas, begun to realise in the heat of the moment, though such a concern was not among his priorities; he needed to find her, and he needed to inform her of his concerns, so that she could decide upon a choice: to leave Auchindoun, or to remain behind.

It did not take long for Danarshi to find his bondmate, in which he, without delay, spilled his thoughts upon, without even a word of greeting to accompany them. In judgement of Aelleena's facial expression, Danarshi could immediately sense that she was in disagreement of his ideas. Aelleena proceeded to, despite her greatest efforts of restraint, ridicule Danarshi for his decision, questioning his loyalty to the Auchenai. This had been the first time since Danarshi's mental descent that she had been allowed to fully unleash her emotions upon her husband, and through her words, her thoughts were revealed before him: their love had long since been extinguished.

Danarshi, despite the guilt that had began to well up within him, was of no intention of veering from his path, no matter how vocal Aelleena was against it. With courage, Danarshi audibly cemented his decision to leave Auchindoun for Shattrath City, informing Aelleena that he would locate their firstborn, Irenora, upon his arrival. Despite her frustration, Aelleena wished Danarshi luck upon his departure; even now, he knew that he may never come to see her again, and, despite the gravity of the situation, he refused to turn back; for the sake of Irenora and himself, he could not afford to reconsider, even if it was for the woman whom he had once loved across eons.

Danarshi made haste for the north-west, entering the forests of Talador without hesitation. Whilst, deep down, he was relieved to have been released from the maddening halls of Auchindoun at which he had spent centuries within, his journey to Shattrath City was wrought with thoughts of doubt and guilt that enveloped any slither of joy, his mind clouded by his confrontation with Aelleena. Even now, Danarshi was merely awakening to the scale of the issues that had been present between his bondmate and himself; it would not be until later that he would truly suffer from what he had done, after being given the sufficient time to fully contemplate the treatment of his wife, and the action that he had made in ultimately turning his back on her.

False Hope
After spending centuries residing within Auchindoun, Danarshi was familiar with the general layout of Talador, even if it was on a mere basic level; the knowledge that he had possessed during his numerous caravan journeys between the various draenic settlements gave him a multitude of routes to follow, which, even then, could have proven dangerous to his health, considering the active threat of the Horde, who could have marched upon the forest at any given moment in time. Alas, he wandered beneath the gleaming, golden leaves of Talador's trees, resolute on reaching his destination.

After hours of restless wandering, Danarshi reached the outskirts of Shattrath City in safety. Upon entering the city's walls, his purpose remained simple: to find Irenora. Although his contact with his daughter upon Draenor had been minimal, he was aware of her presence within the ranks of the Aldor, hastily ascending to the rise in which they operated atop, nestled high within the mountains that loomed upon the city's borders.

Locating Irenora atop the Aldor Rise was of ease, Danarshi having summoned his daughter through the authority of High Priestess Ishanah, the proclaimed leader of the Aldor. The reunion between Irenora and her father was a heartwarming one, the two of them having rarely ever encountered one another following their initial departure from Nagrand. Despite the joyous momentum of the moment, it was quick to grow tense; it was clear to Irenora that her father was not psychologically the same man who she had once known before the arrival upon Draenor, and his distress concerning the Horde and Aelleena had only resulted in worsening his condition.

Irenora, having been well aware of the chaos wrought upon the draenei throughout Shadowmoon Valley, was understanding of Danarshi's concerns. Although her heart was wrought by fear for her mother's well being, she did not pit the blame upon her father. Irenora, a respected magus of the Aldor, openly allowed her father sanctuary upon the Aldor Rise via the means of her own authority. It was obvious to Danarshi that Irenora had not grown aware of his poor treatment of Aelleena across the recent months, and, despite this, he kept such a truth hidden away from her, yet another sin that he was sure to regret, with time.

In addition to the permission for him to reside upon the Aldor Rise, Irenora, through personal consultation with Ishanah, inducted Danarshi into the ranks of the Aldor, his loyalty to the Auchenai, and his general venerability, having further aided in his approval. Although Danarshi had held no initial interest in joining the Aldor, Irenora was insistent that the benefits would substantially help in his comfort and security within Shattrath City; nonetheless, it was not of his place to refuse such a generous offer.

Although Danarshi had since before visited Shattrath City, it had only ever been briefly. Only now had he properly received the chance to judge the sheer majestic magnitude of the city, reminiscent of Mac'Aree itself, that of which remained cherished within the hearts of the draenei people, even to the time of Draenor. Shattrath was undeniably beautiful, although its prominence delved far beyond its appearance, the city having served as a powerful symbol of hope for the draenei people, that peace and prosperity remained a possibility.

Unfortunately, Danarshi knew all too well that the hope that Shattrath City brought was little more than a misleading lie, an illusion, for he had seen more than enough death and destruction to know that this was more than the case. The Horde was coming, and Danarshi knew that, somewhere throughout the cosmos, Kil'jaeden was watching.

The Fall
The dark day that the residents of Shattrath City had been praying against would, at last, fall upon them. The orcs appeared in staggering numbers, their force unmatched. They surrounded the city of Shattrath, the draenei civilians having fallen into immediate panic. The city's defenders dashed in every conceivable direction in desperation, doing all that they possibly could to secure a formidable defence, despite the fact that it had already become obvious to them that they would lose hundreds of lives, at the very least; they were astronomically outnumbered.

During the dawn of the attack, Danarshi stood atop a platform located at the rear of a building on the Aldor Rise, much of the city visible before him, as was the encroaching army of orcs. He began to feel himself fall into a state of utter shock, as he watched his people prepare for warfare; although the draenei were technologically superior to the orcs by thousands of years, they were a shadow of who they once were upon Argus; with their limited supply of numbers, it was perceived that they could hold off against the hordes for only so long.

Irenora was quick to appear by her father's side, urging him to find safety within the Shrine of Unending Light, the primary headquarters of the Aldor. Overpowering his intensifying fear, he was incapable of channeling his emotions into anything other than sheer negativity, as hatred and vengeance abruptly washed over him; the bloodthirsty army set out before his very eyes was yet another monstrous work of the Burning Legion, a product of its corruption, reminiscent of horrors such as the man'ari.

Danarshi refused to find safety, unwilling to sit idly and watch as his people were exterminated. As persistent as Irenora was in convincing her father change his course of action, she could not have possibly hoped to snap such sense into the man, who proceeded to join up with the forces of the Aldor, Irenora having directly been by his side on their march into formation. With the fury that coursed through his veins, Danarshi brought with him a weapon that he could use in a head-on charge against the orcish hordes, despite how rusty his skill as a harbinger had become; at this moment in time, he no longer cared how his enemies fell; if their deaths were delivered painfully, he would be satisfied.

Danarshi was no longer afraid, his fear shut out by anger, as he primed the luminous energies of the Holy Light within the palms of his hands; Danarshi was prepared to fight. With the blessing of the naaru surging through the bodies and souls of he and his kin, Danarshi, and those that he marched with, charged for the orcish hordes as they made their advance, settling upon a bridge at the Shattrath City Centre. The Centre was comprised of an island in the middle of a small lake, with four bridges having been connected to said island, one for each direction. The eastern and the northern bridges were crucial to the defence of the inner city, and Danarshi was stationed upon the eastern; if the orcs were successful in crossing either one these bridges, then the Sha'tari Skymesa, Aldor Rise, and Shattrath Residential District were soon to fall.

As the orcs promptly began their siege, the sky lit up with the arcane projectiles of arkanite defence crystals meeting with balls of exploding fire, the latter of which bombarded the city, soon to shroud the skies with the thick smoke of burning structures, despite the greatest efforts of the defence crystals. As the power of the arkanite defence crystals waned, crude bombs rained down from the skies, releasing clouds of red mist as they collided with the city, choking all draenei who were caught within their radius.

Although the red mist had miraculously failed to reach the bridge in which Danarshi was stationed, the clash against orcs and draenei there was no less brutal, the sound of blades meeting with shields, armour and flesh having been heard clearly by each front, multiple screams of agony following, spilled from the combined lips of the two warring races.

As the orcs closed in, Danarshi could see them well: their skin ran green from the corruption of Mannoroth's blood, their eyes glowing a furious, blood red; he could see the demonic taint about them, and it further provoked his inner fury. Although, at this point, he was practically consumed by rage, Danarshi was not quite foolish enough to place himself on to the front lines; he remained behind the protection of those in front of him, as did Irenora, though, despite this, Danarshi kept his grip over his weapon firm, in the possibility that he would, eventually, have to swing it. Danarshi smote the orcs with hostility, burning away at their bodies with holy fire, unmoved by their cries of pain.

Irenora was among the most powerful of the combatants present upon the bridge, harnessing the ability to literally detonate her victims into a pile of gore with pure, arcane energy. Without rest, they relented against the charging orcs for several minutes, yet, no matter how many orcish corpses would pile up on top of one another, their numbers would simply refuse to wane, as they endlessly continued to make their push across the bridge.

Slowly, the draenei force was withering away, the need of an individual with grand healing potential having become further dire; unfortunately, Danarshi was suspect, having been the only soul present upon the bridge who had truly mastered the ability mend to the wounds of the injured; any others who were present were either novice in their ability, or had already been slain. Despite the increasing demand for his healing expertise, Danarshi arrogantly continued onward with a relentless burst of utter violence over the course of several minutes, before he had, at last, began to feel his energy deplete, his abilities having weakened following each spell that he casted.

Irenora had no further choice but to cry out at her father in command, desperation present within her tone as she performed a frenzied attempt at having her father focus his abilities upon the healing of their wounded. It was of no ease, though, eventually, Danarshi returned to his senses in realisation that his daughter was correct. With as much strength as he could possibly muster with his hastily depleting mana reserves, he shone the Holy Light down over those who fought on, specifically targeting the grievously injured. With the help of Danarshi, the bridge was held successfully for an additional two minutes, until he was physically unable to continue; this was the moment that the glimmer of hope that the draenei held above them had truly began to extinguish, as their fatigued soldiers were progressively cut down with quickening ease.

Danarshi fell to his knees in result of his depleted energy, dropping his weapon to the ground as he did this. Irenora ceased her magic, watching on, as she realised that the orcs had them beaten in the fight; her glimmering, blue eyes watered up in poorly restrained tears, as she was forced to accept this grim truth. She lit up her hands with arcane energy once again, and proceeded to perform the unexpected: she opened an unstable, one way, single-use portal that floated directly in front of her, its destination unpredictable, as she was forced to save both energy, and mana, for the fight ahead of her.

“Forgive me for this, father.” were the words that Irenora spoke, as she tightly gripped her hand against the bulky arm of Danarshi, forcing him up on to his hooves. He weakly pulled, thrashed and resisted against his daughter at the sight of the unstable portal set out before them, an expression of utter terror having washed over his face; he immediately knew of her intentions, and he sought none of it. Danarshi's eyes met with Irenora's, and he laid notice to the tears that now ran down her cheeks. “Always know that I loved you.” Irenora spoke to him in a tremulous tone.

"No... Please..." Danarshi begged in a quivering tone that rivalled his daughter's, teardrops having begun to roll from his own eyes, as well. He was unwilling to watch his daughter perish in favour of his life, though, despite this he was too physically drained to resist, drenching his heart in misery. Irenora wrapped her arms around him, issuing him a tight, final hug, death and destruction resounding in every direction around them. Before releasing her father from her arms, Irenora exercised the full extent of her strength, forcing him through the portal, Danarshi defenselessly sent stumbling through, without speech. The portal proceeded to close behind him.

For the following minute, Irenora did not dare relent to the enemy. Up until the very moment where she was among the last of the draenei who were left standing upon the bridge, she yelled out in unrelenting fury, vanquishing dozens of the charging orcs with all of the magic that her mana could muster, their corpses sent flying over the edge of the bridge and into the water below in droves. It was a massacre, the slaughter unyielding, until the arcane energy that had once coursed from her fingers, lessened to little more than mere sparks; her mana had depleted. In response to her inevitable defeat, a concept that she had already grasped minutes beforehand, Irenora dropped to her knees with a thud, accepting her fate. Her life was swiftly taken by the endless hordes of orcs.

Already, the Sha'tari Market District, and the Anchorage, had fallen. Without access to the docks, few of the remaining draenei survivors had any means of escaping the collapsing city. Those of the defence who remained standing had sacrificed themselves for the sole purpose of buying their citizens more time to flee, fortifying the Shattrath Residential District with their own lives, a strategy that was brutally inefficient, yet, necessarily effective.

The Sha'tari Skymesa and the Aldor Rise, despite their particularly advanced defences, still could not stand against the thousands of marauding orcs that endlessly poured into the districts, who proceeded to murder each and every draenei that they could find. In the end, despite how valiantly the lasting defenders fought, all districts, including even the glorious Shattrath City dome complex itself, fell.



Shattrath City was lost.

Auchindoun Down
As Shattrath City fell, Auchindoun remained standing; it, and the Auchenai, were among the last of draenei civilization upon Draenor, although such fortune was destined to run flat. Briefly following the battle at Shattrath City, the Horde turned their attention to their largest remaining target: Auchindoun, there where few of Shattrath's survivors had managed to reach within the midst of the chaos. Gul'dan, well aware of Auchindoun's true nature and purpose, was weary of the immense spiritual presence that lingered within the mausoleum, fearful that the draenei would resort to the summoning of their fallen in order to defend themselves against an attack.

As the Horde inevitably plotted their advance upon the territory of the Auchenai, Gul'dan conjured a plan that insisted upon a unique approach: to send fourth agents of the Shadow Council, including one of his most trusted, Teron'gor. Despite their usage of both Fel and Shadow magic, the Shadow Council was met in force by the Auchenai, they of whom had assembled for war upon warning from those who had successfully fled Shattrath City. The Auchenai, outfitted with valorous defenders of numerous classes who were led personally by Exarch Maladaar, pushed back against the Shadow Council; even the spirits of fallen draenei, as Gul'dan had initially feared, congregated in assistance of the Auchenai.

As the battle for Auchindoun turned towards the favour of the Auchenai, Gul'dan, resolute in the defeat of the Auchenai and their assisting forces, ordered the agents of the Shadow Council to pool their dark magics into the summoning of a powerful demon that was thought to be capable of enacting their will; little did the Shadow Council know that, in their inexperience of the magics in which they weaved, something of far greater power would be summoned by fault, that of which was beyond their control.

Murmur, the primordial essence of sound, materialised within the very crypts of Auchindoun. The sheer amount of energy that was generated by the arrival of the enormous elemental was sufficient enough to send out a mighty shockwave, one that successfully levelled Auchindoun and the land surrounding it, shattering the City of the Dead to ruins whilst charring the earth for miles, killing near to all life that was struck by the tremendous discharge, including Aelleena, she of who had innocently been working to heal the wounds of Auchenai that were injured throughout the conflict. The Auchenai were conquered.

Fortunately, despite the carnage wrought upon Auchindoun by the summoning of Murmur, Maladaar and a pocket of Auchenai had managed to resist the blast by combining their magics into an impenetrable shield. In spite of their survival, the remnants of the Auchenai were left outnumbered, soon to be overwhelmed, despite a steadfast effort of resistance. Whilst the Shadow Council bound the Auchenai in chains, Murmur, too, was contained deep within the crypts of Auchindoun. The City of the Dead had fallen, driving one of the final nails into the coffin of draenei civilization upon Draenor.

Shortly following the fall of Auchindoun, Kai'soran and the seven survivors had, at last, arrived upon the outskirts of Auchindoun. As the City of the Dead fell into their view, it was this moment alone that radiated shock throughout the group, their facial expressions having dropped into despair as the ruins of Auchindoun laid before them. To their eyes, the blackened wasteland that had claimed the surrounding land was left covered in the bones of hundreds who had perished in the summoning of Murmur, this area having soon to have become known as the Bone Wastes, in chilling reference of this.

Despite the temptation, Kai'soran resisted the urge to tread any closer towards Auchindoun; it had become painstakingly obvious that such ruination was laid out by the hands of the orcs in one way or another; to him, it was unlikely that any draenei survivors remained, and, atop his doubts, he was unwilling to risk the lives of both himself, and those who's lives depended upon his decisions.

Kai'soran somberly fell on to his knees upon the very spot in which he stood. The vindicator, following a moment of silence, chanted a melancholic prayer of hope for not only the survival of Danarshi, Aelleena and the entirety of the Auchenai, though all other draenei upon Draenor, as well. His prayer, directed towards the naaru themselves, was left unanswered; in the wake of the carnage that was washing across Draenor, Kai'soran was uncertain if such a prayer had, or would ever, reach them.

Kai'soran and the survivors, despite their sorrow, conclusively continued upon their voyage without pause. Heading towards the north-west, each of them could only hope that Shattrath City had not yet succumbed to the fate of Karabor and Auchindoun. For hours, they wandered, unstopping, until the smoldering remnants of the City of the Light fell into their view. What remained of the group's hope and morale had been reduced to ash, their hearts left broken by the depressing sight.

Kai'soran was forced to accept the likelihood that Irenora, Danarshi and Aelleena had all, by that time, met with their gruesome ends, this lone concept having come close to shattering the vindicator's resolve. From this moment fourth, Kai'soran, lost, was forced to continue wandering the war-torn lands of Draenor, in hopes of remaining hidden from the Horde. Kai'soran, wishful for the survival of the citizens and his fellow vindicators, bared little choice than to continue acting as their guide and leader throughout the foreseeable span of the conflict; despite how hard he would try, people were going to die; there was no means of preventing such a tragedy.

Lost
Sent aimlessly surging through the Draenor ley line network with no specified destination, Danarshi was expelled from the network only moments after being forced through the portal by Irenora; he was dazed as he fell from the air and into the cold, watery depths of the Zangar Sea. For many seconds, he sunk, barely conscious, though was fortunate enough to have landed nearby the shores that bordered the Zangar Sea and Talador, located north of Shattrath City and the Orunai Coast. Danarshi was soon to hit the seabed, this having been quick to alert him. Dazed and confused, he had begun to gurgle and choke upon the salty water, frantically flailing his arms and legs in desperation of reaching the surface, the weight of his equipment proving to have been a large burden on his ability to do so.

Danarshi had, perhaps, been at the very embrace of death, as he had only barely managed to meet with the surface of the water before falling into unconsciousness. Spluttering and gagging, he made his way towards land, that of which was, fortunately, merely metres away in distance. As he reached the sandy shore, he crawled on to it with all that remained of his withering strength, soon to collapse on to his stomach, the side of his face slamming against the rough, yet, soft surface. In the distance, he could only barely make it out: Shattrath City, smoke ascending from its crumbled silhouette, the sound of warfare faintly ringing into his eardrums. His vision began to blur, tears running down from his eyes, until, alas, he fell into unconsciousness, his exhaustion utterly consuming him.

Danarshi was fortunate to have landed within the Zangar Sea region, as it was, considerably, the safest haven for draenei survivors during the acts of genocide committed by the orcs, though that did not mean that danger did not lurk there. For the very first time in several millennia, Danarshi had, at last, legitimately surpassed his initial fears and doubts, picking up an able weapon as soon as he was able; these times were far too trying for him to be fearful.

Following many days of revising his once-rich knowledge in the arts of a harbinger, Danarshi, with the additional protection of the Holy Light, was confident enough in his ability to defend himself, and proceeded to set out into the areas that more distantly surrounded him, specifically the lands bordering between Talador, Gorgrond, and Frostfire Ridge, in search of survivors and a reliable source of food and fresh water.

Arguably, as an incredibly avid wielder of the Light, Danarshi could have very well become one with the vindicators, if the correct training had been issued to him; without a mentor to guide him down such a path, his combination of Light and steel was crude, at best.

Ultimately, Danarshi was relatively successful in all three of his endeavours; the outskirts of the Zangar Sea in which he roamed were ripe with exotic fruits, creatures to hunt down, and ponds to retrieve fresh water from; he had even stumbled across various bands of draenei survivors. Uniting with the groups of survivors, Danarshi often fought against bands of orcs or packs of wild beasts, each of which would occasionally track them down and attack them; notably, the wildlife of Draenor had gradually fallen into a violent state in the influence of the war that consumed their habitats.

Danarshi, although an admirable combatant, especially proved himself as being both a valuable healer to those who were wounded in battles, and a curer of the few who were unfortunate enough to fall ill with sickness. Unfortunately, Danarshi had never managed to remain within the groups of survivors for extended periods of time, as they were often always eventually overwhelmed and beaten, forcing him to make a retreat, leaving them to their fate; it was either that, or perish, and he favoured the former. In other cases, the groups would simply destroy themselves from the inside, fighting over the scarce supplies of food, arguing over plans of survival, and, overall, losing their sanity from their dwindling morale.

Danarshi, personally, was often seen as the most silent of the groups that he was a part of, rarely ever speaking, thus hardly ever being a part of the fights that would break out between many of the survivors; his emotional trauma throughout this period gave him no desire to speak. Preferably, whilst a member of a group, Danarshi spent much of his time ensuring the survival of said group, keeping himself thoroughly busy, not only with care, though as a means of diverting himself from thoughts that proved dangerous for the health of both himself, and those around him.

On multiple occasions, Danarshi, alongside various of the groups he had come across, were forced to venture into exceedingly dangerous territories, such as central Talador and southern Gorgrond, on desperate expeditions to locate food. Much of the aquatic life present within the Zangar Sea itself had proved difficult to catch or unsafe to eat, due to the presence of poisonous spores upon their bodies, this of which had also proved to be a strikingly common problem among the general plant life surrounding the sea.

Fortunately for Danarshi, this was not only a time of loss, though also a time of learning, having grown familiar with an array of survival skills, including: fishing, skinning, herbalism and woodworking, much of this having been passed down to him by the more patient of his fellow survivors. The oceanic environment of the Zangar Sea was, too, a lesson in itself for Danarshi, who had only spent a small period of time within such environments across the span of his life. Although his knowledge had grown, Danarshi would never form a passion for these skills; nonetheless, they would undeniably serve him well throughout his future.

At certain points in time, when the eastern Zangar Sea had grown far too dangerous to roam, due to the occasional presence of orcish warbands, Danarshi, with his newfound knowledge of woodworking, would construct a seaworthy raft. With a raft in his possession, he would courageously sail westerly into the sea in approach of the northern coast of Nagrand, where he would set up small, temporary camps within areas such as the Zangar Shore, the Lernaean Shore and the Cerulean Shore; he did not ever embark upon these journeys in the company of other survivors, and had only ever been absent for the maximum of a week's time, before returning to the eastern Zangar Sea, there where he was more familiar with the lands surrounding it, and safer from the risk of having to face the towering spore-infested creatures that infamously roamed the coasts of northern Nagrand.

Devastation
As the draenei race collapsed, so did the purpose of the Horde. Following the fall of Shattrath City, Kil'jaeden, his motives fulfilled, left the orcs to their fate upon Draenor, by the order of Sargeras himself. The dark titan could sense the destructive potential that coursed through the orcish people, although this, however, was dampened by the rush of victory that had consumed them.

Across the span of months, the orcs, who had seemingly been abandoned by their demonic masters, fell into a state of hysteria; as Draenor further succumbed to the corruption of the Fel presence that had bored into its soil, the planet continued to wither away into an uninhabitable state. The orcs, with their world dying and the blood of Mannoroth pumping throughout their veins, desperately turned upon one another in their lust for blood, slaughtering their own kin; it was this moment that Sargeras had been anticipating.

As the Horde fell into chaos, a powerful human magus, Medivh, the Guardian of Tirisfal, by the will of Sargeras, who had possessed the human from birth, physically contacted Gul'dan in the form of a mysterious hooded figure, presenting before him a means of escape from Draenor, and a method of sating the bloodlust of the orcs: the invasion of Azeroth. Unable to discern an alternate course of action, Gul'dan accepted the proposal; regardless of Gul'dan's personal opinions, Medivh was not a man to be trifled with, the arrogant warlock having learned this first hand as he attacked him upon his arrival, Medivh having defeated him with ease.

The Horde proceeded to construct a colossal stone frame upon the eastern peninsula of Tanaan Jungle, that of which would house a Dimensional Portal that, with the sacrifice of numerous souls and the assistance of the Sargeras-possessed Medivh upon Azeroth, could forge a link between Draenor and Azeroth.

Formally named the Dark Portal, the Dimensional Portal, the construction of its frame complete, was powered with the souls of hundreds of draenei prisoners whom had been captured throughout the course of their people's genocide, the orcish invasion of Azeroth ensuing. For seven years, the Horde invaded Azeroth, their conquest wrought with both victory and defeat, until they ultimately crumbled beneath the vigour of a union of Azerothian races known as the Alliance, who successfully drove the orcs back through the Dark Portal.

The Horde, beaten, fell into panic and disarray. Draenor, not only having further degraded since the departure of the orcs, was invaded by the Alliance, who had followed them through the Dark Portal, adamant upon their eradication; their world of origin could house them no longer. In an act of utmost desperation, Ner'zhul proceeded to open several rifts around Draenor in an attempt of escape from Draenor; in the orc's careless act, the sheer magnitude of energy that was generated by the conjured portals was sufficient enough to spawn fourth a devastating cataclysm that teared the planet itself to shreds.

Danarshi, situated upon the eastern coast of the Zangar Sea, spectated in sheer horror as the sky itself burst into flames, the ground having trembled with the force of a titan's thundering fist. Mountains fell and rose in every foreseeable direction whilst oceans drained into nothingness.

The broken continent in which Danarshi stood upon was all that remained of Draenor, with Frostfire Ridge and the Spires of Arak having been wholly shattered by the chaos. The ravaged remnant that remained of Draenor was soon to become known as Outland, forevermore serving as a reminder of the destructive capabilities of the Burning Legion's magics, whether or not it was wielded by their own, demonic armies.

Sanctuary
In reflection of its paramount loss of water, the Zangar Sea was rightfully renamed to Zangarmarsh. Despite the tragic devolution of the former ocean, Zangarmarsh became far more hospitable to land dwellers, due to the emergence of vast, new quantities of land that they were free to dwell upon; Danarshi was no longer required to drift endlessly about the coasts of the Zangar Sea, and, in his eagerness to discover what was to be found within this newly-formed marshland, ventured into the thicket of Zangarmarsh.

As Danarshi wandered the drying seabed, his eyes were met with the appalling sight of countless forms of aquatic life that tragically laid suffocated, dotting the landscape, filling the air with the scent of decay. Despite the unnerving atmosphere, Danarshi pressed further into Zangarmarsh. Although it bared a reminiscence to the coastal regions that once surrounded the Zangar Sea, Zangarmash radiated a foreign presence to him; never before had he been surrounded by such an array of towering mushrooms, taller than he had ever witnessed.

Danarshi was soon to stumble upon the draenei anchorage by the name of Telredor, an ingenious work of architecture, one that was featured atop what was, undeniably, one of the tallest of Zangarmarsh's mountainous mushrooms. Prior to the destruction of Draenor, Danarshi had grown familiar with Telredor through the murmurs and whispers of many survivors; to them, the anchorage was little more than a myth, one that no man or woman was bold enough to search for.

A technologically advanced elevator granted passage into Telredor, levitating between the ground and the anchorage itself. For nearly ten years, Danarshi had roamed the wilds that surrounded the Zangar Sea, not a sign of draenei civilisation in sight; he was eager to be reunited with his people within Telredor. Upon his arrival at the anchorage, he was respectfully greeted by the residing draenei; they admired him, not only because of his survival, though due to his stature as an anchorite, as well.

Danarshi was openly accepted into Telredor by its residents; they had housed many draenei refugees throughout the span of the war against the Horde, including Velen himself, and would only continue to do as such. Among all of the chaos that was occurring across Draenor, Danarshi could not have imagined a more secure refuge; although he anticipated the eventual arrival of the orcish war machine within Zangarmarsh, the immediate safety of Telredor was enough to bring him comfort.

Although the peace at Teldredor was relatively well-kept during the first few days following Danarshi's arrival, dozens of draenei survivors had soon flocked to the safety of the refuge in droves, hastily transforming the once peaceful anchorage into a congested hostel. The arrival of the refugees was, to Danarshi, solid proof that he had been only one among hundreds of draenei who had lingered about the coasts of the Zangar Sea and beyond throughout the period of the orcish genocide; he could only hope that there were enough left living to preserve the future of his people.

In consequence of the influx of refugees whom arrived at Telredor, the reclusive Danarshi, familiar with the spore-filled environment, had decisively spent the majority of his time living within the wilderness of Zangarmarsh in seclusion, venturing to Telredor only when it was deemed as necessary to him. At this point in time, silence and solitude were precious commodities to him, those of which had grown impossible to find within Telredor itself.

Although he openly accepted the concept of solitude, it presented a problem: difficulty in remaining distracted. It was crucial that Danarshi kept his mind occupied at all times, in effort of keeping his lingering thoughts of hatred and despair at bay, and, because of this, spent the majority of his time hunting, exploring, picking plants, or simply meditating; he even ran into the occasional orcish warband, often having been capable of defeating the smaller, weaker ones whilst evading the larger, more dangerous ones.

This period of time was also when Danarshi first encountered the Krokul, a population of unfortunate draenei who had devolved in consequence of exposure to the red mist that plagued Shattrath City during its fall, severing their connection with the Light. Whilst many krokul had managed to maintain their sanity, not all were quite so lucky, some having fallen into a primitive and savage state; these particular krokul became known as the Lost Ones.

Whilst Danarshi could not help but to pity the krokul, he, like many draenei, was weary of them; at this time, he knew little of their condition and was uncertain if it was contagious. After having survived a series of random attacks from the Lost Ones, his trust for they and the Krokul alike had only further diminished. The fact that the draenei people had fallen into such separation was sheer proof of the tragedies that the orcish genocide had wrought upon them.

Tenebrous
For thirteen years, Danarshi remained within Zangarmarsh, which continued to serve as the most popular sanctuary for the draenei, despite the time that had passed. Having grown filled with angst, Danarshi could not continue to linger within the marshlands for long; he needed an escape, and had begun considering the course of his future. Upon a return to the crowded Telredor, Danarshi had, with haste, managed to salvage a map of Draenor. He was prepared to venture beyond the borders of Zangarmarsh, curious over what remained of the shattered world.

The map of Draenor, which merely showed the lone continent where the orcs and draenei each resided, was eerily stained with various burns, stains and tears of unknown origin. Incidentally, the Frostfire Ridge and Spires of Arak portions of the continent were ripped from their places, as though they had ceased to exist, whilst Farahlon was coated in draenic blood. Had the owner of this map learned of the fate of these regions? Danarshi wondered, and the coincidence was striking, yet, at that moment in time, he had not truly known the extent of the damage to Draenor. The crude evidence upon the map was insufficient in convincing him of the planet's condition.

Danarshi's darting eyes were quick to land upon Auchindoun, this having immediately grasped at his attention. Memories of the City of the Dead flashed before him like a haunting vision, concluding with the face of his former bondmate, Aelleena. By the time that Danarshi had managed to pull his attention away from his thoughts, he realised that he had unsuspectingly crushed the map within the palm of his hand; it was at this very moment that Danarshi had at last swallowed his fears and accepted that the time had come for him to investigate into the status of Aelleena and the Auchenai.

Acquiring a crude backpack and filling it to the brim with survival equipment, Danarshi set out from Telredor and headed towards the south, where Talador awaited him. It was soon revealed to Danarshi that, in consequence of Draenor's ruination, Talador had transformed from a land of golden, gleaming forests to a choked, warped and colourless landscape, now known as Terokkar Forest, renamed by the surviving arrakoa that had retreated into the sickly woodland.

As a precaution for his own mental well-being, Danarshi took care in avoiding the ruins of Shattrath City, as gazing upon such a sight would have no doubt forced harsh, dismal memories and visions upon him, something that he had not sought to bare witness to. Surprisingly to him, Danarshi's journey proved as being eerily peaceful, much of the land having laid desolate, devoid of life; the packs of wildlife that once dotted the elaborate forests of Talador had seemingly vanished from existence itself, aside from a singular event, in which he had come across a lone, rabid wolf, that of which forced Danarshi to defend himself against its frothing jaws, in which he was, fortunately, successful; the sheer fact that a wolf roamed the forests of Terokkar was enough of an indication of the disarray that the wildlife had been thrown into by Draenor's destruction.

By this point in time, it had become apparent to Danarshi that the surviving wildlife of Draenor had, in wake of the chaos wrought upon their habitats, naturally evolved to be increasingly aggressive. Whilst Danarshi journeyed to Auchindoun, he hypothesized that the absence of animals was temporary and induced by fear, having hidden themselves away out of confusion and terror from the destruction that had befallen their homes. It was clear that humanoids had not been the only form of life impacted by the breaking of Draenor.

Danarshi set up camp for only a single night of rest, which had, regardless, proved nigh restless for him, due to the haunting forests that surrounded him. Despite the brief delay in his voyage, Danarshi's journey was left unhindered, the draenei having pushed back into the thicket of the trees upon sunrise, resuming his trek. Soon, Danarshi's eyes were met with a perplexing sight: Allerian Stronghold, a fortress that was constructed by the Alliance of Lordaeron throughout their campaign against the Horde upon Draenor. This having been the first occasion in which he had laid vision upon Alliance architecture, the white walls and towers of the stronghold sent shivers down his spine; the orcs, a foreign culture, committed genocide upon his people; he did not wish to try the hand of fate by approaching yet another unknown civilization.

An hour had scarcely passed before Danarshi had, at last, witnessed it: the Bone Wastes. The grey, charred, bone-ridden wasteland filled him with an aura of dread; he did not yet know what had wrought such ruin upon the once-beautiful region that surrounded Auchindoun, though, as the ravaged remnants of the City of the Dead hastily fell into his view, he knew that his answers were soon to be found. Despite the troubles that he had faced within Auchindoun, it was his home, and seeing it in such a state of degradation was enough to cause his heart to plummet; his hopes for the survival of Aelleena and the Auchenai had begun to dwindle.

Danarshi wandered across the Bone Wastes with the intent of reaching Auchindoun, the sound of creaking bones having consistently radiated from beneath his hooves; each step that he took, his journey grew more difficult. Despite his rising unease, he refused to falter, determined to reach the ruined mausoleum. Whilst the deathly atmosphere of the Bone Wastes would be enough to give that of an ordinary mortal a sense of desolateness, Danarshi, one who had remained attached to the Shadowlands, could physically discern an overwhelming quantity of spirits about about the area, the majority of them having drifted about Auchindoun itself.

To his own rue, Danarshi could not erase the sight of the countless souls that filled the Bone Wastes, wailing and weeping words that were unintelligible, yet, expressed a tone of torment. Without the aid of the Auchenai, many of the spirits surrounding Auchindoun had lost the will to find D'ore, doomed to a fate of endless suffering. Hauntingly, the presence of death within the Bone Wastes was potent enough to have torn a rift between the Shadowlands and the Material Plane itself, displayed in the form of a spinning maelstrom of clouds and spiritual matter; this was a phenomenon that was native to the Shadowlands, and the mere concept of it spilling into the Material Plane was more than enough to horrify Danarshi.

The Dead Speak to Those Who Listen
Although the Shadow Council had long since burrowed their way into the crypts of Auchindoun, they were not the last to enter the mausoleum's decrepit halls; an array of threats, including the arrakoa and an alien species known as the ethereals, had also come to call the City of the Dead their home. Ironically, not a single one of these factions had declared themselves as allied with the other and were, in fact, at war with one another, each of them having been eager to claim Auchindoun for themselves. Fortunately for Danarshi, these threats had, indeed, concealed themselves deep within the crypts, rarely venturing beyond.

Danarshi, despite an overwhelming urge to flee, set his fears aside and brazenly entered the ruins of Auchindoun. Before him laid the dilapidated interior of the mausoleum's primary complex, the Eastern Transept and Western Transept having been visually unrecognizable to him. Much of the walls and ceiling had collapsed into the Congregation of Souls, reducing it to little more than a crater, exposed to the exterior elements.

Danarshi traipsed down through the eerie tunnels that were yet to crumble, soon to tread upon the ruined floor of the Congregation of Souls, that of which, once shrouded in darkness, was now visible beneath the light of the outside world. Danarshi experienced negative emotions unlike any other as he had gazed about his devastated surroundings. He could not help but to place his attention upon the remnants of the temple's ceiling, those of which had long since pierced into the ground in the form of enormous fragments of stone. Following the sight of such ruination, Danarshi could no longer fathom the idea of the Auchenai's survival; he was prepared to accept the fate of both they, and Aelleena.

As his knees crashed against the charred floor of the Congregation of Souls, Danarshi, with sealed eyes, fell into a silent prayer, sending fourth a holy message to the naaru themselves, pleading for their attention, so that they may answer, and help to guide the aimless souls that wandered Auchindoun to D'ore; he could only hope that some form of him had remained intact. To Danarshi's surprise, unintelligible whispers, drowned in Shadow, spilled into his mind, those of which eerily bared a familiar presence; his prayer had been answered, though there was, undoubtedly, a distinct aura about it, a darkened one; it was clear to him that this had not originated from the naaru, though from a draenei.

As the shadowy whispers continuously seeped into his thoughts, they grew clearer, until Danarshi could discern the voice; it belonged to Exarch Maladaar. Danarshi was awestruck by Maladaar's reply, astonished that the Auchenai had managed to survive the fall of Auchindoun. Could this have meant that Aelleena had yet lived? Curiosity dampened Danarshi's better judgement, the anchorate having grown adamant to reach the Auchenai; he had turned his back upon them once and was lacking of the willpower to do it twice.

Danarshi, as an adept wielder of the Shadow, telepathically communicated with Maladaar, pleading for the Exarch's forgiveness and acceptance; to Danarshi's surprise, the Exarch was only welcoming of him, yet, despite this, the tone in which he spoke was of a disturbing nature, perhaps even malignant. He proceeded to reveal the position of the Auchenai, they of which were hidden away within the very bowls of Auchindoun's crypts, and offered the former soulpriest a place back within their ranks; it was evident that they had not forgotten his face, nor voice.

This turn of events had unfolded with such momentum that Danarshi was struggling to comes to terms with it all. Although he held no doubt that the Auchenai could be trusted, in remembrance of who they once were, he could not help but feel suspicion; something did not feel right to him. As he approached the entrance to the crypts, he had to decide upon his ultimate choice: to truly rejoin his brothers and sisters within the Auchenai, or to abandon them again, forsaking those who had forgiven him. Darkness laid upon Auchindoun, Danarshi having been capable of sensing it, yet, despite this, he could not help it - he could not bare to turn back.

The entrance to the crypts, they of which had been renamed the Auchenai Crypts, opened before him, where two Auchenai escorts laid in wait. The moment that Danarshi stepped foot into the crypts, his nostrils were struck by a sickening stench, that of which smelled of death. The interior of the crypts were in little better shape than their exterior, rubble mounted in piles throughout the dark, eerie and haunted halls. Disturbance spilled into Danarshi as he laid his eyes upon his former brothers and sisters of the Auchenai, many of them having now carried a sickly, wretched appearance; he could do little more than to assume that the war had taken a toll upon them - a terrible one, at that.

As Danarshi progressed into the chamber beyond the crypt's entrance, the source of the nauseating odour was revealed to him: thousands of bones and a series of decaying corpses, each of which were left laying in specific piles throughout the room. Danarshi was horrified by such a display, having immediately lashed out, without control, at those who surrounded him, lecturing them of their carelessness towards the fallen. At this moment, a voice boomed throughout the chamber, that of which demanded silence; it was Maladaar, he who now stood mere metres away from the exasperated Danarshi. Maladaar approached him at a sluggish pace, describing the newfound purpose of the Auchenai as he moved: the raising of the dead via the use of necromancy, a practice that was unknown to Danarshi, until now.

Danarshi had been absent from Auchindoun for twenty five years, and Maladaar was aware of this. Danarshi had not been present during the downfall of the Auchenai, and, in consequence of this, remained true to their original ideals; the Exarch knew this, as well, and plotted to play off of it. Maladaar, having placed himself inches from Danarshi, fabricated a deceptive speech, painting necromancy within a noble light, stating that it was a means of returning the fallen draenei to the Material Plane. Danarshi's attention was grasped. A means of returning a potentially deceased Aelleena from death had presented itself, and it was now in which he questioned Maladaar of her whereabouts.

Danarshi could not help but to fall into a state of immense grief as Maladaar informed him of the fate of Aelleena. Although they had departed from each other's company upon a sour note, Danarshi had progressively grown to miss the presence of his bondmate, that of which accompanied him throughout the Great Dark Beyond and had, for countless millennia, brought him comfort. By the time in which he learned of her death, his heart yearned for her company; he had to return her to the Material Plane, no matter the method. This is the point in time where Danarshi had, at last, snapped. Unable to carry the heavy burden of mental pain any longer, he plummeted into darkness, twisting at his sense of morality. Danarshi demanded that he be brought to Aelleena's corpse, and, without hesitance, Maladaar obliged.

Deep into the Auchenai Crypts they wandered, Danarshi having witnessed the full extent of the Auchenai's activities as he strode fourth. Bones laid scattered in all conceivable sections of the crypts, lost spirits roamed aimlessly about the halls and a monstrous construct, forged of organic material, laid watch within a crimson chamber that was comprised of a bottomless pit and a bridge, named the Bridge of Souls, which scaled the majority of the room's length. As Maladaar's duplicitous words of justification endlessly spilled into Danarshi's ears, he merely accepted them. His sightless loyalty to the Exarch, dedication upon seeing to the deceased Aelleena, and rising insanity, had rendered him oblivious of the Auchenai's immorality.

Above all, Danarshi's mind was clouded with relief over the Auchenai's survival, having rendered him as further ignorant towards their darkened descent; with no small cause of Maladaar's words, he trusted in their purpose. Perhaps they were exercising a costly, though necessary means to a greater end? Or so he was led to think. The Auchenai, including Maladaar and, soon, an indoctrinated Danarshi, had come to accept the concept of Outland suffering from an inevitable doom, including those who lived upon it - this is what urged Maladaar to forge an alliance with a man'ari eredar known as Levixus the Soul Caller, he of whom offered them the teachings of necromancy.

Whilst Maladaar and the majority of the Auchenai had merely used necromancy for the sake of experimentation upon the dead, a stubborn few, including Danarshi, were deluded into believing that it was for the sake of merely returning the deceased to the Material Plane, where they belonged; the Exarch was expectant of these obstinate few to lose sight of their personal motives across the span of months, and, for the most part, he was correct in his assumptions; it would soon be proven as to whether or not Danarshi, too, would fall to Maladaar's doctrine.

Upon learning of the presence of Levixus, outrage swelled within Danarshi - it was almost sufficient enough to have severed his trust of the Auchenai, however, upon the Exarch's claim that the alliance was for that of the greater good and that Levixus was merely a means of achieving his goals, Danarshi scarcely withdrew his disagreement. Despite his hatred of the man'ari, he knew very little of them as a people, never having received the opportunity to study their ways of life; the subject had minimally interested him since the exodus from Argus, though never had he shared such feelings; once upon a time, the man'ari were, after all, his kin. He had wondered: were the man'ari redeemable? Could the Light purge them of their Fel taint, reversing their demonic corruption? The answers to these questions appeared to linger more closely than ever. Danarshi, now driven by a plethora of goals, was filled with determination; there was no turning back for him, now.

Alas, as Maladaar led Danarshi into the Crypt of Remembrance, there where the Auchenai Crypts terminated, an elegant sarcophagus, lined with countless gems of differing type, was set in sight; it was Aelleena's. Danarshi, consumed with anxiety, exhaled heavy, frequent breaths as the large, stone coffin laid before him, waiting for him to open it. Upon laying the palm of his hand against the stonework, he could feel a warming presence about it; the sarcophagus was saturated with the holy energies of the Light. With a drawn breath, that of which he proceeded to hold within his lungs, Danarshi pulled at the lid of the coffin until it slid from its place; the body of Aelleena, preserved by the Light, was revealed.

Danarshi's descent into necromancy was certain.

When Light Falls, Darkness Rises
Danarshi wept over the corpse of Aelleena. Once uncertain of her fate, he was unable to mourn her; now he was able to. Whilst the Light had worked tirelessly to slow the process of decay, it had failed to reverse the physical damage that was wrought upon her by the arrival of Murmur; the sheer discharge of energy had left many of her bones shattered. As disheartening as such a sight was, Danarshi, who was presented with a means of revitalizing his bondmate, could not hope to fight such a temptation; he had to undo the wrongs of time.



Danarshi, like many others within the Auchenai, delved into the teachings of necromancy. Across the span of months, as he further familiarised himself with the techniques of wielding these dark magics, so, too, had his mind and body undergone a series of horrific transformations: his skin and hooves had darkened into sickly, shadowy shades, his hair having shared a similar fate, as it malformed from a vibrant, natural brown to a darker, washed out, purple tint.

In consequence of a lack of exertion and nourishment, Danarshi’s form gradually degraded into frailty, devolving from brawny to scrawny. His hair grew to a ludicrous length, an issue that he crudely resolved via tying his overgrown locks into a rather ludicrous fox-tail fashion. Ultimately, at the pinnacle of his physical corruption, the horns atop his forehead shifted forward into what was arguably more of a “demonic” appearance.

Danarshi’s psychology had plunged into utter insanity, and his appearance was merely a slither of the proof; he was severely misanthropic and belligerent, bent upon little more than the accomplishment of his deluded objectives. Above all, the more that he embraced necromancy, the further that he grew from the Light. Throughout the months, the holy warmth of the Light had seeped from his soul, until only the cold, dark embrace of the Void remained. He had inadvertently cut himself off from the Light and was no longer able to feel or wield its energies.

After much study and observation, Danarshi had halted upon a realisation: the dead who were since risen by his fellow necromancers were merely thralls, mindless and without purpose; Danarshi saw this as sheer failure. He had read time and time again that necromancy was capable of raising undead with the physical and mental freedom of a living being. Driven on achieving that of which the Auchenai had failed thus far, he tirelessly studied tomes and performed foul rituals upon non-draenic corpses that were collected from outside the Auchenai Crypts, refusing to experiment upon his fallen kin and shunning those who did.

In his search for knowledge, Danarshi learned much beyond the mere raising of the dead, such as the harmful capabilities of shadow magic and necromancy. With this information, he was capable of inflicting horrors upon mortal creatures, such as the immediate decay of organic matter, the production of deadly diseases, anguish upon minds and more. Danarshi, careless in his usage of dark magics, was now far more dangerous than he had ever been before.

Approximately a year following his return to the ranks of the Auchenai, Danarshi had grown impatient in his studies. Having read through many a tome and raised many a corpse, he was fallaciously confident in his abilities; he thought himself prepared to turn his attention upon deceased draenei, and Aelleena would prove as being his first subject. An anxious though adamant Danarshi worked for hours to locate the spirit of his bondmate, proving as a strenuous activity within a place that was as saturated in the souls of the fallen as Auchindoun. Despite the difficulties, he was an experienced soulpriest, and following much time and effort, he successfully summoned her.

The spirit of Aelleena, baring a faint, holy radiance about her form, hovered aimlessly only a few paces in front of Danarshi, there where an altar laid, housing her body’s sarcophagus. The features of her soul were untouched; she appeared as she had in life. Danarshi’s heart pounded within his chest with increasing pace as he struggled to keep his negative emotions in check, proving as a momentous task without the aid of the Light. With a twitching smile, Danarshi rose his hand towards the ghost of his wife. She appeared confused, lost and frightened, yet, still, her eyes met with Danarshi’s, her expression unvarying.

“Aelleena.” Danarshi spoke in a weakened tone, tears welling within his eyes. “My love. You look just as wonderful as the day I met you…” he continued before suddenly turning his gaze towards the floor with much shame present upon his face. “…as the day I abandoned you.” he forced from his lips, in which he followed with a long-drawn sigh. Aelleena merely stared at him in silence, as though she was unaware. “Gaze now upon your second chance at life, my dear. It was my duty to protect you from death, and that is a duty which I shamefully failed. Now, you shall be among the first to acquire the privilege of the worthiest gift of all: the gift of new life.” Danarshi proclaimed in a disturbing tone of exhilaration.

Danarshi lifted his left hand, the palm exposed. Within a moment, it was engulfed in unholy and void magics, the green and purple colours flowing within one another, as though they were merging into a single form. The holy glow within Aelleena’s spirit was flushed away and replaced with the unholy green. Shadowy binds materialised around her within the air itself and constricted her; she was trapped, unable to escape. As she reeled and wailed in pain and fear, her corpse was coated in shadow magic, which mended her festering wounds and broken bones, leaving only horrific scars. Once her body had been healed to a functioning degree, Danarshi sought to finish his foul ritual. He proceeded to merge together the soul and body of Aelleena.

A foul, green mist rose from the sarcophagus, where only silence could now be heard. A concerned Danarshi crept his way towards the large, stone coffin – that was when he heard a low, woeful moan originate from within it. “Aelleena?” Danarshi softly called. As he loomed over the sarcophagus, he was met not with a sentient response, though a feral scream that pierced deep into his ears. Not even a moment had passed before the disoriented necromancer felt the sting of flesh being torn from his arm – that was when his eyes darted away – and met with the sight of a rabid Aelleena, snarling and digging her nails into his muscle. Something had gone dreadfully wrong.

Danarshi, following a gasp of shock and pain, once more lifted his left hand towards the ceiling, his palm releasing a surge of pure shadow, summoning a foul tendril from the Void itself, that of which shot from the sarcophagus of Aelleena and snatched the woman away, though not before she had managed to sink her fangs into his arm, tearing away a chunk of meat as she was forcefully dragged into the coffin. Dark, blue ichor gushed from his open wound as he worked to constrain her. He conjured several smaller tendrils that wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles, restricting her movement.

Danarshi was delusional, and the sheer failure of his unscrupulous ritual was certain proof of this. Even now, however, the necromancer could not comprehend the gravity behind the disaster in which he had wrought upon his wife. Rather than condemning the magics in question, he blamed only himself, convinced that the outcome was solely his doing, and that further study and practice would rectify his mistake. He had delved into the teachings of necromancy for more than a year – surely they could not all have been mere lies, or so he thought. Ultimately, he had come too far; he could not turn back, not now, after he had made such progress.

A pained and puzzled Danarshi returned to his studies on necromancy. His focus upon the subject was quick to dwarf many of his peers, as he read through tome after tome in desperation to excel. Meanwhile, Aelleena's reanimated body was left as little more than a reminder of the price of selfishness, impatience and failure. Despite this, Danarshi could not bear to put her out of her misery, nor did he allow it to be committed by anyone else, for he could undo his mistake - he knew that he could. "I only required further study and practice" is what the disillusioned necromancer had continuously told himself, in order to maintain his confidence. Overall, it succeeded, as he remained adamant on improving his unholy abilities.

Danarshi, in his desperation to mend the mind of his bondmate, lost all sense of morality. He raised the corpses of several dozen draenei over the course of the coming months, the majority of them having resulted no differently to Aelleena, until, at last, something had changed: the dead who he raised grew consecutively more docile, eventually enough that they followed every little command that he issued them with; they were entranced, caught within his control. Though no more sentient than the others, they were at the necromancer’s beck and call. It was at this moment that Danarshi’s vision of revitalizing his fallen kin had truly begun to fade.



As the walking dead progressively bent further and further to his will, overwhelming sentiments of power and authority, sensations which he had vaguely felt beforehand, began to consume his ambitions, for they brought him a twisted satisfaction. As the months continued to pass by him, Danarshi no longer wished to bring salvation to the deceased; he sought only more power, hungry to ascend as one of the most gifted necromancers within the Auchenai. Everything that Danarshi had once been, and everything that he had once stood for, was no more. Now, he was no better than Levixus himself.

Awakening
Absorbed solely within his studies, time itself had soon lost all semblance of meaning to Danarshi. When it seemed as though mere weeks had passed, it was, instead, entire months. Locked away within the Auchenai Crypts for multiple dozens of days at a time, the only matter that the Necromancer cared for were his dark magics; even nourishment and rest remained as mere afterthoughts. As years wasted away, Aelleena was lessened to little more than a distant memory to him. Though he could have continued to focus upon granting her sentience, his false sense of control over the mindless undead had long since shifted his priorities onto other subjects. Five years had passed, and still, Danarshi did not know how to restore his wife – he had long since stopped caring.

Soon, however, all would come to change for the seemingly doomed Necromancer. During one of the rare occasions in which Danarshi would find rest from his plots, he fell into a deep slumber, physically and mentally weary. Within the midst of his sleep, a familiar, harmonic warmth had, at sudden, entered his body, accompanied by an almighty presence. The darkened layers of Void which swathed Danarshi's dreams were soon lifted by a bright light that blinded his vision to sheer whiteness. He was the only individual to witness the light, indicating that it had originated from within his mind.

Upon the moment that the light faded away into blackness once more, an image of D'ore appeared within Danarshi’s thoughts, projected to his vision, proof that this was, indeed, an outside influence. The Naaru stared into his very soul, observing him, judging him; even Danarshi could feel the sorrow, anger and disappointment that radiated from the noble being, who was clearly devastated over the atrocities that both he, and his brethren, had committed upon their deceased kin.

Danarshi did not, at first, understand why D'ore had chosen to visit him within his sleep, although the Naaru was soon to quell the man's confusion: "Your prayer has, at last, reached me, Danarshi; only now can I hear it through the deafening cries of the tormented dead. Never before has it proved so difficult for me to hear, as it has throughout these past years. Alas, several cycles within the past, you preached freedom, my child, purification for the restless dead, yet, despite this, I find you here, committing atrocious acts upon those you once wished saved. For centuries, you and the Auchenai stood at my side, defending me, ensuring my return to the Light. Why have you forsaken your duties? Why have you turned away from the Light?” the Naaru questioned him in a severe tone, each word having rung through his ears like a hammer striking at an anvil. With each word, however, it seemed as though his soul was opened further to the Light, its warmth rising within him.

Though he struggled, Danarshi could not respond to the words of D’ore – he could only listen. “I cannot speak with the others, for only has your prayer issued me with the ability to contact you. Due to this occurrence, there may still remain hope for you. Though I am unable help your fellow Auchenai, I am able to help you, Danarshi.”. The Naaru momentarily paused in amidst his speech. “For me to aid you, however, you must, in turn, pledge to aid yourself. In knowing this, you must cease these immoral acts, to abandon the studies and the dark arts in which they entail; if you refuse this, you shall lose all that remains of your past self, and with it, all hope shall, too, be lost. If you wish for the forgiveness of the naaru, of Aelleena, then cremate her, release her spirit, and I, personally, shall purify her, so that she may, at last, become one with the Light. This vital step shall set you upon the path towards redemption.” the Naaru continued, its voice having proved as no less impactful. It was as though the will of D’ore was being funnelled into Danarshi, as with each request he made, the more motivated the Draenei became; he could, once more, feel motives and emotions that had been lost to him for years.

D’ore allowed Danarshi a moment to absorb his words before proceeding to finish his deed: “Once this act is complete, flee these halls, without question, and never return via your own will; your purpose here was completed long ago, and there is, at this time, nothing left here for you to fulfil. Once you are gone from this place, venture east, into the remnants of Tanaan Jungle, until you stumble upon a mighty dimensional rift, one that I am aware the mortals have come to call the "Dark Portal"; there, you shall discover your first step towards redemption. Awaken, Danarshi. Awaken.". Upon his final command, D’ore’s voice increased in volume to a near deafening degree, and when it was over, the image of the Naaru dissipated, as did his warming presence. Danarshi immediately awoke.

Danarshi, now more than ever, realised the torment that his soul had undergone over the span of years, with the comfort of the Light having been absent for such time, until his brief encounter with D’ore. Indeed, he was now awake, not only physically, though mentally, as well. The memories of his sins within the Auchenai Crypts unleashed themselves upon him, the man now able to conceive them from a noble standpoint – it was as though his prior, anchorite self was viewing all that he had done wrong. It was at this moment that he was truly tested, as he was brought closer to his breaking point than ever before. He was calm no longer, pacing about the cold, dark and silent chamber in which he had slept, hyperventilating and unintelligibly muttering to himself in a manner of distress. Of all the tragedies he had committed, Aelleena was the most harrowing of them all, the mere thought of it having proven enough to stain his cheeks with wept tears.

Deep down, his discipline from training with the Auchenai monks over a century prior had aided him in composing himself – if he had never undertaken such teachings, this test may have led him to his demise. With much mental strain, he regained control of himself. Calm once more, and with a newfound purpose, Danarshi knew what he was to do. With the words of D'ore set within him, he ventured further into the winding crypts. As he progressed, he witnessed the sight of his fellow Auchenai tormenting countless draenei spirits, raising their corpses and defiling their resting places – it sickened him to the stomach; he could not comprehend that he was one of these "monsters".

Among the first of the realisations that crossed his mind upon witnessing the unholy practices was Levixus, the man’ari who was responsible for the teachings of necromancy. The demon had never cared for the welfare of the draenei and their deceased. To Danarshi, it was proof that there were, indeed, no secrets to be uncovered of the Burning Legion; they had proven themselves to him as beings of utter evil who desired little more than the infliction of pain and suffering upon all life within the Great Dark Beyond. Redemption for the man'ari was no longer a foreseeable option.

Danarshi resorted to haste, resolute on freeing the love of his life whom he had wronged so immensely. Still, to that day, Aelleena remained constrained within her coffin via the shadowy binds in which he had kept upon her. As he approached her, only silence was heard, until the eyes of the mindless woman met with his, in which she immediately writhed against her trappings, all whilst snarling and hissing. It was as though the past four years had wrought nothing upon her. Tears continued to stream down his face, worsening with each moment that he spent peering upon her.

Although the soul of Aelleena could not see nor act within its reanimated corpse, Danarshi had still recognized that this would spell as his final moment with his love of old; the time had come for him to right his wrongs. With significant struggle, Danarshi forced his eyes upon Aelleena’s, staring deeply into them, as though he was searching for what little of her psyche remained locked away within her. “Aelleena. My love. The horrors that I have inflicted upon you… you have never deserved such suffering. I am a monster. This is not my way, nor was it ever meant to be. After all of those years that I had promised to bring us back to the homeworld, to Argus, my will was conquered by the Burning Legion. I have failed us all. My original intentions are irrelevant; I was a fool to think that such unholy magics would return you to me. I was selfish and grew arrogant in my lust for power. Never again shall I give in to such forces; I refuse to let it happen.” he pronounced, his voice consumed with a plethora of emotions, ranging from sorrow to disgust.

Danarshi fell into a moment of pensive silence. He knew that he would have to select his coming words wisely, for he would likely never again receive the chance to speak his grievances in front of Aelleena, regardless of whether or not her soul could hear him – if she could, he had to take the risk. “When the orcs washed over Draenor, I was a coward to abandon you. I should have stayed at Auchindoun with you, even if it meant dying at your side; death would have proved a far better fate than what I have become.” he spoke with mortification.

Once more, only quietness fell from his lips. With each passing second, he fell further into misery – his face alone had shown this. “I am so, so sorry, Aelleena, for all of the unforgivable sins I have committed upon you. Know that, forevermore, I will love you, my eternal partner in the Light who I have forsaken to the Void.” Danarshi uttered in a trembling voice of grief. His cheeks were now stained with tears.

Danarshi clutched on to the shoulders of Aelleena with shaking hands and hunched over her. Within a mere matter of moments, the Void coursed from them and pulled against the woman’s very soul, unwavering in its potency until she was removed from her fleshy prison, the aftermath having reduced the undead body to a motionless state of death once more. Throughout it all, his eyes had remained locked with her’s, his teardrops having splashed against her putrescent features.

The spirit of Aelleena hovered aimlessly above her rotted corpse, her eyes trained sorely upon Danarshi, who had since stepped away from her coffin. Her physiognomy was comprised of severe angst and misery. Within a short time, a sudden ray of Light formed several feet atop the spirit, washing over her form, filling her with its holy radiance, until she shone more brightly than that of a star. Without a spoken word, the shining spirit flowed throughout the crypts, surprising the Auchenai who had laid witness to it. Before long, she was gone, away to become one with D'ore, he who was responsible for her purification, so that she could, at long last, become one with the Light.

Danarshi dispersed the shadowy binds which held the body of Aelleena and then seized a torch that was near to him, proceeding to cremate her with the its flame; his former love was, at last, laid to rest, and there was little more that he could do for her, other than to wander the path of redemption. At this point, Danarshi refused to spend another moment within the crypts. He fled for the outside, without delay; the Auchenai dared not interfere. As he tread across the Bone Wastes, he dared not issue Auchindoun another glance. With the will of D’ore set within his mind, he vanished into the thicket of Terokkar Forest, venturing towards the north-east, where he would soon find Tanaan Jungle, and with it, the Dark Portal.

Danarshi was left to wander the ravaged world of Outland, with little option than to use the power of the Void for his survival, for he had certainly lost the ability to wield the Light, and had grown far too frail to face his foes in melee combat. Danarshi now, too, had lost the idea of romance, as his respect for the bond that he and Aelleena had crafted between each other for the past twenty-eight thousand years proved as an anchor that he could not hope to let go of. In reflection of his sins against her, he sought no more out of the aspect of love other than to avenge what had happened to her; with this, his ultimate purpose was to find a means to destroy the Burning Legion. To his perspective, pursuing a new path of romance with another individual would prove as nothing more than an act of disrespect towards her; ironically, the kind-hearted nature of Aelleena would have likely oppose this stance, yet, despite this, after having desecrated her, he refused to forsake their bond.

Although Danarshi no longer held a grasp over the Light, D'ore had secretly left a spark within his soul so that, at an appropriate moment in the future, he would regain the ability to wield the holy magics, though it would still take many years for him to return these powers to the level that they once were. It would prove as a difficult process, one that required significant time, dedication, patience and support, though it was a chance that many whom abandoned the Light were never granted. Upon this day, his path for redemption had begun, and he swore to himself that he would never again dabble with the arts of necromancy, or any other form of magic that was equally as malevolent; how well Danarshi would manage to maintain this vow would only be revealed with time.

The Burning Crusade
The journey to Tanaan Jungle was of no ease for the sickly Danarshi, his gaunt state having forced him to halt for rest on more occasions than he was proud to admit. Throughout Terokkar Forest, he had noticed that much of the wildlife had returned, though they were different, mutant, as though they had adapted to their ravaged environment. Fortunately, however, he was fortunate to have steered clear of the various creatures. Though he had fleetingly visited Tanaan many years into the past, prior to the construction of Auchindoun, it was, to this day, a region upon Draenor that remained vastly unknown to him; he was tense as to what he may discover there.

As Danarshi trod beyond the border of Terokkar Forest into Tanaan Jungle, dread was swift to fill his heart; in consequence of Draenor's destruction, much of the remaining land had been warped and twisted from the sheer chaos, and Tanaan Jungle, now fittingly known as Hellfire Peninsula, had rightfully earned its new name. The land, once lined with rich, luscious soil, choked with thick vegetation, was now a mere wasteland, the ground cracked, scorched and reddened from the wildfires that had latterly preyed upon it, not a single sign of flourished flora left in sight.

As Danarshi wandered further into the Hellfire Peninsula, the fog-ridden, gloomy atmosphere of Terokkar Forest soon dissipated, revealing a sky of latent magical streams; Outland itself now laid at the very fringes of the Twisting Nether, propelled towards it during its sundering. Danarshi had already witnessed countless catastrophes wrought upon the planet in the wake of its shattering, though to learn of this was among the most terrifying of them all; the remnants of the planet now resided dangerously near to the domain of the demons – he feared that they would have a direct presence there.

As he wandered across the Hellfire Peninsula, his luck was soon to run short as two fel infused orcs, their corruption so severe that one could have mistaken them for a form of monstrous demon, charged towards the draenei from a distance, viewing the scrawny figure as a simple victim to sate their uncontrollable bloodlust. With a sizable gap presented between the opponents, Danarshi was provided with sufficient time to prepare himself. Despite this, hesitation and grabbed a firm hold of him having been quick to consume his mind; he knew that he would have to unleash the Void upon them or perish.

As the orcs closed in on Danarshi, instinct seized the reins of the draenei, forcing him to lift his arms in front of his chest and unleash an outflux of Shadow magic from the palms of his hands, that which flayed the very minds of the attackers with the power of the Void itself. They writhed in pain, yet he did not cease his assault. They were soon to fall on to their knees whilst screams of sheer suffering flowed from the depths of their throats, all whilst desperately pleading him for mercy. Still, he did not relent, and the orcs' lives were soon taken from them, their hearts having ceased to function as their very minds shut down from the trauma that consumed them. Danarshi lowered his arms and hunched over in wearness once they had fallen limp on to their faces.

Though, at its core, it seemed unethical, Danarshi possessed no option other than to rely solely upon the Void for his foreseeable future; in this, he knew that he would have to take constant care in maintaining his sanity, due to the negative influence that it could have upon the minds of those who are careless. Without the assistance of the Light, this would prove more difficult for him than previously. He had only his sole will to rely upon, now. Without further delay, he resumed his journey across the peninsula.

Soon, he came across a sight that would carve itself into his memory for the remainder of time: the bones of thousands upon thousands of draenei were lodged into the charred dirt, forming a colossal pathway that ran directly from the Dark Portal itself, to the insidious Hellfire Citadel, the primary fortress of operations for the fel orcs upon Outland. This pathway was known as the Path of Glory, constructed and named by the orcs themselves, its title a testament to how wicked they had truly been. Danarshi was well aware that the orcs had incinerated countless of his peoples' corpses in burning bonfires, though this? It caused his knuckles to grow tense, until an audible crack had sounded from them.

What Danarshi was to see next would only further ignite his veins in searing hatred: the demons of the Burning Legion marched down the Path of Glory and towards the Dark Portal, originating from their own, foul gateways, confirming the concerns that he harboured. The presence of the demons upon the Path of Glory was intense – he could not hope to fathom what it was that they sought on Outland, a ruined world. He cautiously crept around the very outskirts of the peninsula until he, at last, reached the mighty stairway of the towering Dark Portal.

At this point, Danarshi’s legs were trembling in fatigue from the sheer distance they had travelled, whilst hunger and dehydration sapped away what little of his vigour remained. To his sight were several platoons of soldiers, many of them consisting from species that were alien to him. They rushed by the confused draenei, some of them carrying a blue and golden banner, whilst others weidled a red and black banner, the latter proving as more familiar to him than the prior - he could have sworn that the orcs had fought beneath such a banner before in the past, although his recollection of it was vague at most. Had these armies originated from beyond the Dark Portal itself?

In short time, Danarshi witnessed the sight of green skinned orcs and draenei, each present within the defence against the Burning Legion. It was clear that the defenders did not wish for the demons to pass through the Dark Portal. Naturally, he would have attacked any orc within his sight, yet the draenei were almost passive towards them. Had his people grown so susceptible that they had willingly joined in arms with those who committed genocide upon them? These were the thoughts that coursed through Danarshi's mind, and he could only begin to wonder how many events he had missed during his recent time among the Auchenai.

Once he had regained his posture, Danarshi approached a prominent figure dressed in golden, gleaming armour of an unfamiliar craft, he who appeared to be overseeing many of the operations at the Dark Portal. The man's name was Duron, a human commander of the Alliance from a distant world known as Azeroth, and was now the first Azerothian that Danarshi had personally spoken with. He questioned the Commander about all he had missed throughout the past years and, despite the business of the human, was briefed by him on various key details, such as the immediate battle at the Dark Portal, the purpose and structure of both the Alliance and the Horde, and ultimately what the draenei had accomplished upon Azeroth following the crash landing of the Exodar, a dimensional ship that had granted hundreds of survivors a means of fleeing Outland during the period that Danarshi had resided within the Auchenai Crypts. It was now that he had realised why D'ore had directed him towards the Dark Portal: so that he could join with the forces of Azeroth and help them in driving the Burning Legion off of Outland. At this moment, he declared himself a member of the Grand Alliance.

Although the Horde and the Alliance were normally at war with one another, in the wake of the war upon Outland, they forged a peace treaty. In honour of this, Danarshi, when in the company of the Alliance, vowed not initiate combat with the opposite faction, unless if it was in self-defence. When alone, however, his grudge would lead him to attack the orcs of the Horde when they did not outnumber him – all of them would underestimate him on his physical weakness – none of them would survive to tell the tale. He was primarily neutral towards the other species within the Horde, for he lacked any personal hatred against the majority of them, other than their union with the orcs. The Forsaken did, however, unnerve him, due to their undeath, though he of all individuals knew that this was not of their doing – when one is risen from death, it is the fault of the necromancer, not the victim.

Of all these additional races within the Horde, only did the recently recruited sin'dorei (or blood elf) prove as worthy of dislike to Danarshi, due to their acts of deliberate violence against the draenei. It was from a sabotage of their doing that caused the Exodar to plummet from the heavens above the Azuremyst Isles on Azeroth, and it was of their doing that a naaru, M'uru, was kidnapped and forced to fuel their Blood Knights with the Light within their city of Silvermoon. Indeed, of all of these races who were allied with the orcs, it is the blood elves that he would watch the most closely.

Facing Fel
Danarshi did not linger at the Dark Portal for long. Although briefly lending his aid to the soldiers that struggled to defend the world of Azeroth, he was soon to set back out across the scorched landscape of Hellfire Peninsula. From its east to its very west, Danarshi seized the opportunity to assist in the killing of several demons and fel orcs throughout the peninsula, each of these having been plentiful in number, scattered across the reddened wasteland. Undoubtedly, Danarshi had grown acutely eager to stand firmly and courageously against his arch nemeses within the Burning Legion, fueled by the hatred in which had built up within him across the span of countless millennia; if an opportunity arose for him to hinder the enemy front, then he would not have even thought to hesitate upon carrying out such a task.

Danarshi's charge led him across the near entirety of Outland throughout the course of several weeks, and, with the limited number of Burning Legion forces that were present upon the shattered world, alas, Danarshi, unlike ever before, could see a light at the end of the tunnel; he and his allies possessed a chance at winning this war, a sensation that had virtually grown as alien to him. His involvement in the effort upon Outland had inevitably led him back to Shattrath, the city bruised and beaten, the memories of such a place proving as little more than grim for the man. Despite the city's wear and tear, the emergence of A'dal and his order, the Sha'tar (“Born from Light”), had been primarily responsible for the restoration of its population; their arrival had not only returned the warmth of the Holy Light to all that rested behind its walls, though had also lured fourth a sizable number of additional naaru, they who would prove as instrumental in the preservation of the city.

Despite the perseverance of Shattrath's denizens, there had been a sizable amount of problems present throughout the city, predominately the large influx of war refugees within a drained water canal, that of which had become a district of its own, named: the Lower City. Alternative issues rested within the tenuous relations between the Aldor and an unfamiliar faction, the Scryers, whom were only young in age, comprised principally of blood elves that had splintered away from the corrupt rule of their prince, Kael'thas, and had sworn their allegiance to that of the naaru. Although they were not officially classified as being at war, the Aldor, due to the crimes of the blood elves, were incredibly distrusting of the Scryers, having barely even tolerated their presence within Shattrath City as a whole, swiftly prohibiting their access to the Aldor Rise, as did the Scryers forbid the Aldor from treading upon their own rise, that of which had only recently been bestowed upon them.

In reflection of his close relation with his deceased daughter, Irenora, Danarshi had, by default, become a figure worthy of respect within the eyes of the Aldor; it was uncommon to meet a draenei who had survived the onslaught at Shattrath City, and it so happened to be that the leader of the Aldor, High Priestess Ishanah, personally shared in his distressing experience. Danarshi, although rarely serving them directly, was forevermore to remain a member of the Aldor, a privilege that automatically granted him access to the Aldor Rise whenever he saw fit, along with the support of their members, especially those whom had grown especially familiar with Irenora; the latter prerogative held strong throughout the war upon Outland, although, due to an eventual lack of presence alongside the Aldor, progressively less of them had continued to hold him with such a high level of esteem.

Danarshi had soon come to formally learn about the existence of the Illidari, and that they had been working against his allies through the use of rebellious demons, fel orcs, and even a number of draenei who, much like Danarshi, had lost their connection with the Light; their appearance, however, was warped and malformed far beyond anything that had befallen upon Danarshi, a strong, lengthy exposure to the Fel having been what served as the explanation for this tragic mutation; they became known as the Krokul ("Broken"). Although Danarshi had already heard the name "Illidari" yelled in chants of war throughout Hellfire Peninsula, primarily through the lips of fel orcs, he was not aware of the goals that the Illidari and their leader, Illidan Stormrage, possessed; the fact that they were comprised so heavily of demons and Fel-corrupted orcs was more than enough reason for him to despise them out of sheer instinct, despite the element of confusion that it struck him with; he had not grown familiar with the concept of demons whom were traitorous against their Burning Legion masters. Danarshi's puzzlement changed nothing; he proceeded to aggressively focus upon the Illidari, almost as equally as the Burning Legion themselves.

Fortunately for Danarshi, the war upon Outland had additionally served him as an opportunity for him to regain the physical strength in which he had lost within the Auchenai Crypts, his constant fighting and other physical exercises having allowed him to progress back into the bodily stature that he had formerly possessed. As an alternative boost to his training in physical strength, he had even returned to the maintenance of his skill with a melee weapon, that of which had grown ever-rusty during his time as a necromancer. Although, at first, Danarshi rarely used the techniques of a harbinger in battle, he began to familiarise himself in incorporating its use with spell casting, growing far more frequent in physically bashing at his opponents, even if it was with a mere staff. Despite all of the stress in which he had begun placing upon his body, Danarshi's sleeping pattern remained dangerously poor, having deemed himself as lucky to receive a single hour of it throughout the span of an entire day and night cycle; even when he would finally tire himself out to the extent that his mind forced him to slumber, it would only allow his thoughts to wander off into the traumatic territory that constantly haunted him, proving as a threat to his health, in its own right.

Although Danarshi strictly forbid his use of the dark magics he had obtained within the Auchenai Crypts, his sickly appearance was not so easily concealed, often having turned eyes into his direction, and not in a way that boded positive. During the period of the war upon Outland, Danarshi spent much of his downtime within Shattrath City, an opportunity that he had not properly obtained before in the past. Inside Shattrath, Danarshi was silent and reclusive, constantly sticking to his own and approaching nobody; he did not speak, unless if he was spoken to by one who was worthy of his time. When he was out upon the field of battle, he portrayed an entirely different personality, one that was driven by relentless violence and hate; he was never once seen showing even a slip of mercy to his enemies, most especially the demons and orcs whom he fought.

In relation to the Auchenai, word had become clear within Shattrath City that the death of the corrupt faction had, at last, come to rise, Exarch Maladaar having fallen at the feet of a series of brave heroes. Although Danarshi was grateful to hear that the Auchenai, a cancer in comparison to what it had once been, was finally put to rest, deep down within his heart, it brought him into a state of dejection. The Auchenai had once been an innocent priesthood who had wished for nothing more than to honour the fallen, to respect their bodies and to guide their lost spirits to D'ore, so that they could become one with the Light. Most prevalent above all, it was difficult for Danarshi to forget that he himself had been a member of the Auchenai from the day of their rise, to the time of their fall. Exarch Maladaar, and all who served beneath him, had once been noble at heart; the day that they succumbed to the darkness would forever be marked as a day of monumental loss, not only by Danarshi, though by all draenei.

Nexabyss
From Blades Edge Mountains to Hellfire Peninsula, Danarshi had eventually seen the vast majority of what remained of Draenor, a devastated husk of its former self. Within his eyes, minimal hope remained for the restoration of the world, despite Nagrand having appeared nearly as beautiful as it had been, prior to the "creation" of Outland; the other regions were not quite as fortunate, Netherstorm especially, the remnants of Farahlon, a land that had become so torn, warped and ravaged that not even those whom had resided there for the past three centuries could identify it as being the same place.

Above all of the regions that were spread across Outland, there was one of them, aside from Netherstorm, that near-nauseated Danarshi from the mere sight of it: Shadowmoon Valley, or what remained of it. Shadowmoon had become a blackened wasteland, not a strand of grass in sight, its soil tainted with the essence of Fel, and its skies choked by green clouds that spelled death. Although Danarshi had not received the opportunity to personally witness Shadowmoon in its former glory, he had heard countless tales of its everlasting beauty, a land of eternal night, coated in blue grass, offering views of Draenor's moons, and the Great Dark Beyond itself, that were like no other.

On one particular day, Danarshi wandered across the Fel-tainted Shadowmoon Valley, forced to bask in the sights that surrounded him, the most prominent of them having been the Hand of Gul'dan, a volcano that had been risen from the centre of the region itself, piercing the skies and forever spitting Fel magma from its peak, further corrupting the land that surrounded it; Shadowmoon Valley bared the greatest resemblance of the countless worlds that had been devoured by the Burning Crusade before it, without a doubt in mind. Danarshi was soon to pass by a region of Shadowmoon that had been named the Netherwing Fields, an area that had become dominated by a newly formed dragonflight, the Netherwing Dragonflight, aside from a large presence of Illidari Fel orcs whom wished to dominate the dragons for use in battle.

From word alone, Danarshi knew that the Netherwing Fields were a place to avoid, its perimetre having been patrolled by the Netherwing Dragonflight itself, whom had grown territorial in response to the fel orcs who continuously attempted to forcefully subdue them. Straying by the outskirts of the field, the draenei did not intend to spark a confrontation between himself and the Netherwing Dragonflight, although they did not share the same intentions. From behind, Danarshi heard the sound of a roar, that of which grew louder by the second. As the draenei span himself around in response to the increasing noise, a veridian nether drake swooped at him from above, Danarshi forced to swing his arms and clutch on to the neck of the creature in the nick of time, its velocity immediately sending his weight flying backwards, until his torso was pressed against the back of the flying drake.

Danarshi had faced dozens upon dozens of unique predatory species before, ground and air-based alike, although riding upon the back of an aggressive dragon, young or otherwise? This was certainly a first for him. The drake, having elevated back towards the skies, was more than aware of the draenei that weighed against him, his arms still wrapped tightly around its neck. It began to flip, roll and weave throughout the air, attempting all that it could to shake Danarshi from its back, though to no avail, as the man continued to hold on for the dear sake of his own life. He had little other choice; this dragon had to be bent to his will, lest he eventually lose his grip and fall to his demise; without the power of the Light, he was not confident with his ability to perform a levitation spell.

Slowly and carefully, Danarshi moved his arms further up the drake's neck, until, alas, he latched on to its head with the aid of his unkempt nails, tearing ever-so slightly into its scales, barely causing the beast to flinch, although it was not of his intentions. Another moment passed by them, before, alas, a powerful concentration of Shadow energy began to continuously pulsate from the palms of Danarshi's hands, reaching into the very mind of the creature and causing it to roar in agitation as the dark tendrils of the Void crept through its thoughts and swept across its vision. Whispers washed over the sounds that the drake could hear, they of which urged it to land and submit; as Danarshi's grip over its mind continued to strengthen, nearly any attempt at retaliation against the wishes of the whispers was met with immediate, crippling pain.

"SUBMIT!" the whispers turned to a scream, the drake having cried out in fear before returning to the ground with caution, its will defeated, rendering Danarshi as the victor in their battle for control. Sliding from its back and to the safety of the ground beneath him, Danarshi wandered to the front of the drake, pointing a finger towards the charred soil. "Down." he commanded the creature, it of which not dared to rebel, as it lowered into a kneel of sorts. "Please, do not kill me. I had only wished to defend the land of my kin." the drake had suddenly uttered, catching Danarshi by surprise. "You are able to speak?" the draenei questioned the drake, that of which simply nodded in response. "I see. I do not remember seeing your kind before, although I can speak the same for many of the warped beasts that have spawned across these lands in wake of the planet's downfall.".

"Despite your will to defend your home, you were foolish to attack me, for I meant your kind no harm, initially." Danarshi continued, before drawing a step closer to the drake. "Give me a single, valid reason for me to let you leave this place alive.". It stirred in response to his harsh request, pondering on what could possibly appease the draenei. "As of late, many of my kin have been enslaved by the Illidari, to serve as their mounts in battle. Although our elders remain hopeful, I have been able to see it within their eyes, that they do not truly believe in our ability to survive this war. As much as I wish to aid the Dragonflight, I have no desire of dying at such a young age, and I know now that you fare from the western lands, where the enemies of the Illidari reside. If you would allow me to travel with you, to serve as your companion, then it would not only allow me to survive, but would also grant you an ally who would be willing to serve at your side, by your command." the drake explained, before dipping its head before Danarshi, placing its own fate into his very hands.

Danarshi grumbled beneath his breath, contemplating upon the request of the drake. "An interesting suggestion, one I had not considered. I do not, however, possess the experience to mount a flying species, such as your own, therefore, I am undecided upon the validity of your request." he responded, the drake lifting its head to meet eyes with him. "Then we can learn, together. I see great age and wisdom within your eyes; I am more than confident that you will have little trouble in the process.". Danarshi now groaned as he continued to think upon the matter at hand, eventually performing a nod of approval. "Very well. Travel by ground is long and treacherous; taking to the skies shall be of use. If I am to accept your companionship, however, I will need to learn of your identity, the name that you are known by." Danarshi alerted his new companion, it of which abided. "I am Nexabyss, a young male of the Netherwing Dragonflight." Nexabyss answered. "I am Danarshi." the draenei replied, blankly. "Then it would be of my honour to serve as your companion, Danarshi, that you may take me away from this dangerous place." spoke Nexabyss once more.

"Then let us be off. The residents of Shattrath City must know that you mean them no harm." Danarshi finished as he proceeded to climb up and on to the back of Nexabyss, much like any other ground-based mount that he had rode, before the two of them flew off towards the western horizon. It would take time for Danarshi and Nexabyss to properly become acquainted with their new companionship, although, in eventuality, they would grow to be an effective team, even if the relationship between the two was not initially forged of comfort and trust. It would take years, yet, despite this, a bond was destined to, some day, form between the draenei and the young dragon.

The Black Temple
Many weeks following his acquainting with Nexabyss, a call to arms was sounded among the armies of the Horde and Alliance; the final charge upon the Black Temple (the infernal, corrupted remains of Karabor) had come, and Danarshi was among the first to answer this call. It had been at the Black Temple where Illidan Stormrage commanded his Illidari forces, wreaking havoc to nearly everything that they encountered; the infamous night elf demon hunter had even consumed countless draenei spirits at Auchindoun in order to open a demonic portal; Danarshi, in his hypocrisy, felt hatred over Illidan and his armies for such an act of defilement, and the assault upon the Black Temple was his opportunity to seek vengeance for all that the Illidari had done, from the tragedy at Auchindoun to the enslaving of the Netherwing Dragonflight.

Many forces made their march for Shadowmoon Valley, ranging from the Alliance to the Horde, and even the Sha'tar to the Aldor, and the Scryers; the Illidari had, to say the very least, their fair share of opponents to face. Danarshi's journey to the Black Temple was not quite as perilous as it could have potentially been, Nexabyss having transported the draenei with ease to the temple grounds, before being ordered by him to fall back to a safe location, this zone of war having been no place for the drake. As the virtuous forces of Draenor and Azeroth made their approach upon the temple, guided by Xi'ri, the Illidari did not hesitate to retaliate against their enemies, the blood elves of Kael'thas having clashed against them from the direction of the southern terrace, whilst the Fel orcs came from the north, and the demons from the temple itself, to the east; they were relentless in their defence, despite how outnumbered they were.

Whilst a large quantity of worthy combatants proceeded to directly assault the interior of the Black Temple, striving to reach Illidan Stormrage upon the temple ceiling, an arguably greater number of forces were required to remain behind on the defensive, to push back the Illidari whom remained outside, and to ensure the safety of the brave heroes that had breached beyond the defences of the temple. Danarshi, as eager as he had been to take the fight to Illidan directly, accepted the role of a defender, remaining by the entrance of the temple; he would allow no demon, orc or blood elf to pass by him in his stead.

Among all of the events that Danarshi expected to unfold at the assault upon the Black Temple, there was one that he hadn't come to foretell: a reunion. Upon the field of battle, Danarshi was met with one whom he had thought deceased, one that he had also loved, as family: his very own son. Kai'soran lived, his holy armour scorched, scarred and beaten, as was his appearance, rugged in nature; this was not the Kai'soran whom Danarshi had once known, though was one who had lived through the genocide of his own people. Beside him stood two vindicators, a male and a female, each of them as hardy as himself; they had stuck by his side since the very day of Karabor's fall.

Danarshi examined his son from the distance of only a few metres, Kai'soran having not initially noticed him, until, alas, their eyes came to meet, although, rather than switching away, they locked on to one another, each of them frozen in place. Danarshi knew with all of his heart that this was his son, though Kai'soran? Danarshi had changed dramatically since last they had met, both physically, and mentally, yet, despite this, it was clear that the vindicator could recognise the face of his father, even following their three centuries of separation. At last, Danarshi spoke to his son, uttering his name "Kai'soran?"; the confrontation was only to grow worse from there. The tension between the two was immediately strong, each of them able to sense the emotional strain that was present within them; whilst Danarshi felt sorrow and sympathy for his son, Kai'soran felt confusion and dread for that of his father, unable to ignore his tainted appearance.

In a frail attempt to break the negative atmosphere between the two, Danarshi silently approached his son, his arms stretched wide, ready to embrace him with a warm hug, though only to be met with a turned shoulder. It became clear to Danarshi that Kai'soran sensed a great disturbance about him, both in how vastly his appearance had changed, and the darkened presence that radiated from him, something that any venerable user of the Light would be able to detect. Unfortunately for Danarshi, Kai'soran was not only a venerable wielder of the Light, though was also sworn to uphold its tenants, automatically placing him against the misuse of dark magics, adamantly so. Kai'soran had become a champion of the Light, an honoured vindicator of the Sha'tar, and his father, once an esteemed anchorite of the draenei race, had become choked by the Void, barely a spark of Light left within him; Kai'soran's stomach turned and his throat tightened at the sight of his father.

Danarshi was dejected over how the reunion between himself and his son had played out, though rather than feeling anger, he felt disappointment, not for his son, but for himself, and who he had become; he could not blame his son for his sickened state, for it was his own doing. Seconds followed by them, no words being muttered. The time came for them to return to the defensive, as the Fel orcs launched a sudden offensive push. Kai'soran finally came to speak, though it was not directed at his father; he ordered his two peers to join him in the fight. Kai'soran, before departing, gave Danarshi a look, one that silently spoke "Follow us if you wish, although I do not expect it of you". Kai'soran left for the battle that was only a number of paces away, and Danarshi, despite the tensions, would not dare to betray his son in such a manner. Danarshi took initiative, drawing a one-handed sword in which he had brought, and followed Kai'soran into battle. Danarshi charged into the fight head-first, in hopes of proving to his son that not all he had once been had evaporated.

The Fel orcs did not let down with ease, endlessly pressing against the defenders; the orcish term "Lok'tar ogar" certainly rang as true. With the combined might of Danarshi, Kai'soran, his vindicators, and all the others who met the Fel orcs with magic and steel, their red-skinned opponents were soon culled to the last of their assault; there was an army of Fel orcs left to be dealt with throughout the Black Temple, although this victory would prove as a brief, yet, valuable respite for the soldiers whom fought. Despite their triumph, Kai'soran did not relent, progressing up on to the northern terrace itself via a sloped path, his fellow vindicators following him out of what appeared to be blind loyalty. Danarshi was surprised to witness such an act of fury within his son, a man whom had always been sworn to combat the forces of darkness, though not to such a fierce and desperate level as to what he portrayed here. It was no secret that the primary Fel orcish encampment was located atop the northern terrance, therefore, Danarshi, out of sheer concern for the safety of his son, pursued him up the slope, followed by nobody else; they were not as foolish as he had been.

The bottom quarter of the northern terrace appeared to be clear of any immediate threat, yet Kai'soran still did not cease to hurry fourth, and neither did Danarshi, nor the two other vindicators. The peace was not to last for long; Kai'soran clashed against a formidable defence atop a brief, yet, wide stairway, a defence that was made up of mere Fel orcs, the vindicator's body protected by that of a holy shield, one that no axe, mace, sword or spell could seem to bypass; it did not even damage beneath the pressure of the orcish hoard. As Danarshi approached, he bared witness to the sheer finesse that his son possessed with a two-handed blade, moving through the orcs with such grace that one could have mistaken his weapon and armour as weightless counterfeits, the Holy Light engulfing the steel of his sword and slicing through the limbs of orcs like that of warm butter; it was immense, and it dwarfed anything that Danarshi was capable of performing, arguably even within his glory days as a harbinger upon Argus.

Danarshi joined the three vindicators in battle, his sword still in hand, swinging at the unarmoured sections of the orcs' bodies, primarily the neck and head, although the arms and legs on some. Danarshi was of luck that he was accompanied by three, skilled vindicators, their combative superiority having been enough to draw the majority of the orcish attention away from Danarshi, more than likely having spared him from losing a limb, or, ultimately, his life. They fought on, and relent they did not. They pushed forward, miraculously progressing towards the main encampment, until, alas, Fel orc reinforcements began to spill upon them in droves, encroaching from both the left, and right, with two staircases present in each direction, they which led up and towards the encampment. The orcish reinforcements successfully pushed the draenei back towards the small stairway from whence came, even if it were with great effort. Danarshi, upon being struck against the arm by a crude blade, issuing him a moderate though messy cut, stumbled back and away from his opponent, enough that the vindicators had found themselves trapped within the orcish forces, with Danarshi on the outside of them.

The Fel orcs, upon realising that the vindicators had grown exposed, fixated on them, their mouths slobbering and snarling as each of them strived to achieve a killing blow upon the valiant draenei. The battle was brutal by description, clouds of red blood sent bursting from gusting wounds in all directions, until it had begun to run blue, as well; one of Kai'soran's vindicators, the female, was lunged through her very heart, leaving her defenseless to the onslaught which left her slaughtered and trampled upon the floor in mere seconds, her body struck and pierced by dozens of blows. Kai'soran, upon noticing the death of his companion, was sent into a state of rage that Danarshi had never before seen within him; the vindicator pushed his way through the thicket of the forces with the blazing energy of the Holy Light, his shield continuing to protect him, although its potency had evidently begun to fade, wear and tear having grown visible upon its surface.

Danarshi could do little more than to swing and lunge his blade at the Fel orcs that had turned their backs to him, issuing him a multitude of effortless kills, yet, no matter how many he cut down, he could not seem to reach Kai'soran. It was only a brief period of time before the second vindicator fell, skewered by three separate swords, two through his back, and one through his very jaw. “Kai!” Danarshi let out in a desperate call, in an attempt to warn his son of their encroaching defeat, though it was to no avail, as, not only had Kai'soran grown into an unrelenting state of rage, though he had also clearly become trapped by the orcs, his ability to fight having grown increasingly difficult by the second as they tightly pressed up against his shield with their weapons in hand, offering him little room to maneuver his sword. At last, his shield, coated in cracks and dents, evaporated into nothingness, followed only by the sound of Kai'soran's voice, that of which screamed out in pain and defeat as he was struck such a multitude of times that it would normally have been considered as automatically fatal.

“NO!” Danarshi yelled out in a stretched manner, at such a volume that it could startle wildlife within a mile, his yell filled with sheer terror and rage. Without care, his morals having suddenly meant nothing to him, he dropped his sword to the stonework beneath his hooves and lifted each of his hands, his palms exposed and directed at the Fel orcish hoard. From his palms, darkened magic of both Void and decay flayed outwards and into the large group, a rope made of pure Shadow having wrapped around them with suffocating tightness, large enough that they were caught together, unable to escape. As the orcs were detained, a foul, gaseous cloud washed over their upper-bodies, their flesh and tissue having peeled away in result, as though they had begun aging by decades within a matter of mere moments. The orcs could do little more than to cry out in agony as they rotted away at the seams, few of their dead even having been risen by the rampaging necromancer, they of which clawed and chewed away at their kin who remained standing, until, alas, not one was left living, the risen dead crumbling back on to the floor, as lifeless as they had been before. Eager to reach his son, Danarshi, his body momentarily being consumed by Shadow, moved the ropes with such force that all who were trapped by it were sent sliding to the side, revealing Kai'soran, and a series of orcish corpses which had already fallen prior to Danarshi's onslaught.

The Fel orcish corpses were twisted and rotten, laid out across the ground, a foul stench having consumed the surrounding air, due to their decayed state. Kai'soran laid beaten and broken upon the floor, much of his armour shattered and dented, whilst blood seeped down from his mouth, entailing that he had sustained internal damage to his body. Danarshi, the Shadow fading away from his body, approached his fallen son and dropped down unto his knees with an audible thump, his hands hovering over his son's body, hesitant to touch him. As the two met eyes with one another, the expression upon Kai'soran's face would be etched into Danarshi's mind forevermore, one mixed with such horror, such agony, such disgust, his jaw dropped and his breathing near-to non-existent.

“M-my son! Stay with me, please...” Danarshi pleaded in a choked, faint tone, though Kai'soran would only continue to stare at his father - glare, rather, his face failing to shift from its expression. “...What have you done, father? What have you become?!" the wounded vindicator had suddenly let out, before placing a hand upon his pained abdomen, releasing a series of hacking coughs. "Your skin runs dark, as black as night. Your horns point forward, unnaturally, like that of a demon's. Your hair has lost its shade, devoid of all life." Kai'soran continued, followed by further coughing. Danarshi, still sitting upon his knees, frozen in place, could not force even a sound from his mouth. Kai'soran made an attempt to lift his torso, though to no true avail, falling back on to the ground, pointing his hand at the nearby corpses that were riddled with decay, Kai'soran's teeth having become clenched in sudden anger. "Look at what you have done to them!".

Silence was set out between the two for many seconds, Danarshi's arms having slowly drooped down to his sides, almost limp in nature. "Three centuries has it been since last we met, and never did I expect that, when I saw you again, that I would see..." Kai'soran began once more, gazing up at the insidious sky above them as he spoke, before returning a glare towards his father. "...this; a monstrosity." Kai'soran finished, followed by a struggling breath, in which he then was forced to swallow the blood that had begun to fill his mouth. "I once loved you, and still would have, if you had remained faithful in the Light, as you should have. Now, when I look upon you, I see... a demon." Kai'soran spat, Danarshi's eyes lowering to the floor, consumed by ultimate shame. "Never in my life had I imagined that I would perish staring into the eyes of my own father, twisted by dark magics, a betrayer of his own people, his own family."

Kai'soran moved his head back to gaze up unto the sky once more, swallowing yet another gulp of his own blood, ceasing to clench his teeth as they began to relax. "May the naaru have mercy upon your soul, for the draenei will not." the vindicator muttered, weakly, the remnants of his strength having escaped through his voice as his sentence ended. Kai'soran, his eyes shutting, ceased to move, to breath, to do anything; he was dead. The last of Danarshi's known bloodline had perished before his very eyes; his own son. Danarshi, even a minute following his Kai'soran's departure from the realm of the living, remained frozen upon the spot where he sat, his muscles having forbid him to make even the slightest of movements. Severe shock coursed through his body, his heart beating at a painfully fast speed. To hear his own son speak such words of hatred about him, for him to have used the last of his breath to remind Danarshi of the sins that he had committed, it was an experience so shattering that he was beyond that of tears.

On that day, the purpose of life itself had become lost to Danarshi. No longer could the warm embrace of love comfort him, in any shape or form; no longer could the aspect of friendship bring him joy or excitement; no longer did the slaughter of evil bring him amusement, or fulfillment. His only purpose now, was that of a lost vessel of hate, anger, sorrow, vengeance, a combined force of negative emotions. The Shadow had, at long last, consumed and controlled him; the Light had never been so absent from him.

Tearing a purple Illidari tabard from an orc's corpse, rendering it a trophy out of spite, Danarshi left the corpse of his son, unworthy of burying him, a task that he deemed more deserving of the Sha'tar or the Aldor. On this day, a new life began for Danarshi; a dark, tragic life.

A New Hope
With the defeat of the Illidari at the Black Temple of Shadowmoon Valley, Outland had, at last, begun to see the peace in which it was owed. With Illidan Stormrage deceased, the survivors of his army were left in disarray, without command, or purpose. With Prince Kael'thas defeated at the Tempest Keep, his rogue sin'dorei forces were quelled, with only few survivors and loyalists left to name. Only the threat of the Burning Legion remained, and even they, the demonic army who had claimed countless worlds, began to wane; Outland was little more than a husk of its former self; the Legion had served its purpose with the destruction of Draenor, and many of the demons, who had not been slain, did not see it as fit to remain upon its surface.

After three decades of chaos, peace had began to find its way back to Outland, promising a renewed life to those who remained there; its denizens, however, received little opportunity to celebrate in their victory, as the Burning Legion, led by the Deceiver, Kil'jaeden himself, led a decisive strike upon the world Azeroth, whence the Horde and Alliance had originated from, they who had sacrificed a respectable deal in the defence of Outland. Within the homeland of the sin'dorei, Quel'Thalas, laid a font of enormous, Holy power known as the Sunwell. Although the Sunwell laid dormant, Kil'jaeden, a brilliant tactician and magician, knew of its power and sought to use it to tear open an enormous Fel portal, one that would usher a full-scale invasion upon the entirety of Azeroth.

Although Danarshi had never before laid eyes upon the world of Azeroth, Outland had become a mere reminder of all that the draenei had lost across the span of thirty years; as much as he had previously yearned to remain behind and take a stand for his home, it felt as a place of comfort, nor pride any longer to him, evoking only memories of events that he preferred would fade away into the deepest and darkest confines of history. There was nothing left upon Outland for Danarshi; he had done all that he could to avenge its destruction, and felt as though he was prepared to move forward.

Danarshi returned to Shattrath City only shortly following the fall of the Illidari, where he passed through a portal that led him to an island located north of Quel'Thalas, its name: the Isle of Quel'Danas, its rich soil the first of Azeroth in which he trod upon. The landscape of such an island was luscious and vibrant, coated in green grass and colourful trees of gold and orange; to Danarshi, it was reminiscent of Talador, although arguably even more beautiful than such. Unfortunately, as Danarshi had become painstakingly accustomed to, the beauty of the isle was overshadowed by the corruption of the Burning Legion, the small landmass coated in demonic camps and Fel monstrosities. Above all, the thought of yet another world, ripe with life and beauty, falling beneath the might of the Burning Crusade brought outrage to Danarshi; he was ready to kill.

Shatter
Danarshi fought in the war upon the Isle of Quel'Danas by his own, personal accord, having joined no army or faction; alone did he battle the Burning Legion. During this war, he carried no true goals, interested in little more than the infliction of pain, suffering and death upon his demonic adversaries. Although the survival of Kael'thas had been revealed, the elf prince having been present upon Quel'Danas itself, he and his forces brought little attention to Danarshi, the stubborn draenei having been interested in very little more than the Legion itself. With his morals broken by the words of his dying son, Danarshi had all but lost the meaning of virtue; he, without hesitation, unleashed his hold over shadow magic and necromancy, and he was relentless in his endeavour. It had been wise for him to seclude himself, as dark magics such as necromancy were loathed by virtually all of the defending races whom were present upon Quel'Danas.

The primary force of defence upon the isle was known as the Shattered Sun Offensive, comprised of draenei and blood elves, with the addition of heroes ranging from the Horde and the Alliance. On a single occasion, Danarshi stumbled across a lone orc of the Horde, he who had been combating against the demons of the Burning Legion, striving only to protect the land of his blood elven allies. Despite his innocence, Danarshi did not care, nor did he truly understand. To him, an orc was an enemy, regardless of their intentions. Without mercy or even a slither of remorse, Danarshi assaulted the orc by surprise, crippling his nervous system with relentless shadow magic before rotting him to the bone, sealing his unfortunate fate. The orc's death was grisly, yet, Danarshi's face did not shift; not a frown, or even a smile; emotionless.

Although the Shattered Sun Offensive, due to his efforts against the opposing fronts, considered Danarshi as an ally, he himself recognised little similarity between himself and the Shattered Sun, aside from their shared stance against the forces of the Burning Legion; without this, they were of no interest to him. Danarshi, by no means, went out of his way to lend a hand to the Shattered Sun, though when they were present in his path, battling against the the Legion, he did not stall in aiding them in their battles; this was the extent in which he initially associated himself with them.

When the final push into the Sunwell Plateau commenced, occurring rather briefly after Danarshi's arrival upon Quel'Danas, he, at last, decided that it was of his best interests to lend a proper hand to the forces of the Shattered Sun Offensive; however, officially, he remained unaffiliated with them. Although a battle against Kil'jaeden, once a figurehead for his people, was a powerful symbol to Danarshi, he had been adequately occupied by the forces of the Burning Legion who were present within the plateau. Whilst Danarshi fought against skirmishing demons, courageous heroes pushed toward the Sunwell itself, working to end the threat of the invasion.

Miraculously, the Deceiver, despite his capabilities, was hindered upon his entrance into Azeroth, his summoning incomplete. In his weakened state, the heroes of Azeroth, although no less hard-pressed, were successful in their defeat of the eredar lord, pushing him back through the Sunwell, that of which he had used as his portal. As Kil'jaeden was banished back into the Twisting Nether, Danarshi remained near the base of the plateau, the corpses of several, bloodied demons and corrupted blood elves surrounding him, littered across the floor, slain in a combined effort between the Shattered Sun Offensive and himself.

Although he was disappointed to have missed the defeat of Kil'jaeden, whilst equally displeased with the escape of said man'ari, Danarshi was sated by the mere magnitude of demonic forces that he had assisted in vanquishing, many of them his own work. He had purposely limited himself in the conflict, allowing only shadow magic to escape from the tips of his fingers, in favour of keeping peace with the Shattered Sun; despite such a limitation, his succour was impressive. Danarshi, baring numbed feeling of accomplishment, despite his near-null emotion, returned to Shattrath City via the portal in which he had come; he was of no use stranded upon a sin'dorei island.

A New Beginning
For a brief period of time, Danarshi remained upon Outland, once more journeying across what remained of the crumbled continent, hoping to further the removal of any remaining enemies, most notably the Burning Legion and the Illidari. This journey had convinced Danarshi that life upon Outland could, some day, heal, with many of its threats having been dealt with throughout the recent war there; with this thought, he was at peace with Outland; it was high time for him to move on, and to never look back. He knew that the majority of his people had crashed upon Azeroth, marking it as their new home; he saw no world more worthy of migration. Embarking towards the Dark Portal at the eastern edge of Hellfire Peninsula, its demonic presence having been snuffed out like a flickering flame, he climbed the portal's grandiose stairs, certainly proving as one his most majestic departures from a single world. He issued himself with a parting glance of the reddened wasteland that laid behind him, putting to rest the life in which he longed to escape, before he made his first steps through the imposing gateway.

Crossing through the Dark Portal was an experience unlike any other; Danarshi had passed through portals before, though, this was vastly unalike. As Danarshi entered the Dimensional Portal, he found himself within a dark space, floating, weightless, cosmic energy streaming about him, ever-so faintly. Seconds passed by, a light having eventually become visible to him, possessing an orange hue. Danarshi was powerless as he drifted towards the mysterious light, unable to avert his course. As he reached the light, it engulfed him, blinding his vision to sheer brightness. Gradually, he could feel the weight returning to his body, until, at sudden, his vision, too, returned to him, his hooves suddenly planted against stone; he had arrived upon Azeroth. The sight in which he came to bare was unlike his initial expectations. Judging by the appearance of the Isle Quel'Danas, Danarshi had expected to witness a lively land of wonder; instead, he found himself within a region known as the Blasted Lands, scarred by fire and warfare. It seemed that, no matter how far he wandered, the tragedies of war could not be evaded.

By this time, it had already become apparent to Danarshi that, despite his absence in the crash landing of the Exodar, as a member of the draenei race, the members of the Alliance would automatically welcome him with open arms. Without fear, Danarshi wandered down the crude ramp of the Dark Portal, its Azeroth counterpart noticeably smaller than Outland's; he was intrigued, though he could care less. The Alliance's defenders present at the Blasted Lands Dark Portal had barely even acknowledged the wandering draenei's existence, serving as a testimony to the fact that Danarshi would be openly welcomed into the Alliance as an ally.

Danarshi had not roamed a new world in over three centuries; he was eager to explore, despite his confused state, no less twisted than he had been upon the Isle of Quel'Danas; his purpose on Azeroth remained a mystery to him. With the opportunity to freely wander an alien world, Danarshi, claiming a map of the Eastern Kingdoms from the Dark Portal operations camp, set out on a journey of discovery, his path set for the north, the only means of escaping the war torn Blasted Lands. Danarshi's journey spanned onward for several days, leading him through treacherous lands such as the Swamp of Sorrows, Deadwind Pass, and Duskwood. Despite the rather intimidating environments, Danarshi was intrigued, often facing great danger due to his curiosity alone, although nothing that his unbound magics could not face.

Upon first witnessing the lush, green forests of Elwynn Forest, the first action that Danarshi could not help but perform was to inhale a long-drawn breath of the warm, comforting, relaxing air; it was of no exaggeration that he had come to miss the freshness of air that was not tainted with smoke and Felfire. Danarshi wandered the peaceful forest, until he had stumbled across the village of Goldshire, much to his misfortune, eager on never returning; he had seen more pleasant and elegant brothels within cities such as Mac'Aree, and, even then, they had never been of his personal taste.

Danarshi hastily made his way further towards the north, where the human capital of Stormwind City was said to reside. The very moment that Danarshi had experienced the grand statues of Alliance heroes, stationed within the Valley of Heroes of Stormwind City, intrigue flooded his thoughts; he had met the natives of worlds before, though, this? Azeroth's people were unlike any other, and it was clear that they were all of significant power, each possessing a rich history; it was difficult for Danarshi to avoid feeling inspiration from these foreign cultures. The architecture of Stormwind was of a craft that he had not seen repeated elsewhere throughout the cosmos, unique and regal in design, widely unlike draenic structures.

Above all, Stormwind City was welcoming to the allies of humanity; Danarshi did not have to wander far to witness kaldorei, dwarves, and even gnomes whom freely wandered the streets. Despite the appreciation for solitude in which he had come to form, Danarshi had not a reason to shroud himself from the races of the Alliance, they who's ways deviated far beyond the scope of draenic morality, this most evidently having applied to the humans, who exercised substantial diversity within its population. For nearly two years following the day that he first found Stormwind City, Danarshi spent the majority of his time within its walls, living out of its many inns and familiarising himself with the various races of the Alliance, observing them, learning from them, including their universal language, Common, in which he toiled tirelessly to grow fluent at. It had been the first opportunity for Danarshi to affiliate himself with the beings of a foreign world to such an extent. Unfortunately, the means of which he came to fit himself into this new society was far from pleasant.

No Less Twisted
Danarshi, his twisted nature having proven as a powerful influence upon his place within Stormwind City's society, inevitably sunk into the underbelly of human society, the only place where it seemed as though he belonged. He affiliated himself with a plethora or unsavoury individuals, their wicked ways having enthused the draenic male to perform immoral, unjust deeds, such as the initiation into multiple gangs, guilds or clans of criminal occupation, thuggish behaviour within the city's streets, or even as low as the desecration of human crypts and burial sites, this having included the Cathedral of Light itself at a single point in time, which caused a mighty upheaval among its priesthood, whom never discovered the culprit; that an ancient being had stooped to such a level of scum and villainy was simply immeasurable.

During the initial time in which Danarshi resided within Stormwind City, a war raged on upon a northern continent known as Northrend, where the Horde and Alliance fought to ensure that an undead army, the Scourge, led by a powerful entity known only as the Lich King, yet another series of foul creations wrought upon the Great Dark Beyond by the Burning Legion. Despite the presence of such a harrowing conflict, Danarshi possessed not even the slightest shard of prudence to the matter, his interests laying within the underworld of Stormwind City and little else. Danarshi was quick to rise the ranks of the majority of the organisations in which he associated himself with, his grasp over necromancy and shadow magic having rendered this as a breeze for him; the draenei were virtually nonexistent where Danarshi had descent, as well, marking him as a unique, respectable subject among the malefactors.

Danarshi's crimes, however, did not always go unpunished, as he was caught red handed by the Stormwind Guard on multiple occasions, who were quick to lock him away within their prison facilities, such as the Stormwind Stockade, and, on a single occasion, shipped to the Valiance Keep dungeon, located within the Borean Tundra of Northrend; the bars of his cell lined with anti-magical properties, due to his tenancy to escape from average cells with ease; holding a wielder of the shadow within a barred room is of no small feat. Not even the Valliance Keep dungeon could hold him, as Danarshi's gang, at the time, had grown aware of his capture, performing a precise rescue that was deemed a success, at the expense of a few, innocent guardsmen's lives.

Other than frequent travel to the regions bordering Elwynn Forest, such as Duskwood, and the Redridge Mountains, where the majority of his organisations had placed their headquarters, Danarshi continued to spend virtually all of his time within Stormwind City itself. During his time living amongst the races of the Alliance, primarily the humans, Danarshi's study was soon to pay off, becoming a skillful speaker of Common, his accent far weaker than the majority of his people, whom had spent significantly less time around their allies.

Soon came the day that the dragon Aspect of Death, Deathwing, returned from Deepholm. He rained terror down upon Stormwind with ease, Danarshi having been present within the city as such a tragedy occurred. Such carnage had invoked memories within him that resembled only one thing: the Burning Legion. Naturally, this sent a surge of resentment through him, though his grudge was, by no means, held against Deathwing himself; the destruction merely reminded him of his eternal enemy. Following the devastating attack, Danarshi had little interest in the events of the Shattering, with nought interest in defending Azeroth; in ignorance, he did not see a dragon as worthy of a planet's destruction, and, therefore, proceeded to ignore the events of the cataclysm entirely, continuing his life as a miscreant.

Rewakening
Danarshi continued to uphold his malicious behaviour for yet another year, his conscience clouded, before, at sudden, his dreams on one, calm night were touched by an essence in which he was faintly familiar with. At first, he was only capable of feeling the essence, unable to see more than mere darkness; it brought a comforting warmth to him, yet, it was unlike that of a fire, or a thick coat; it radiated throughout his very being, bringing him not only mere warmth alone, but, happiness, as well; positivity. The edges of his vision were abruptly engulfed by a faint, golden glow, that of which grew in intensity as the seconds passed by him. The sensation of physical pressure began to surround Danarshi's very brain; the brighter that the glow became, the more that it felt as though an outside force was pressing down upon his mind, slowly crushing it. At first, the sensation was gradual, until it increased to the point of pain, causing Danarshi to stir within his sleep, his short-lived comfort slipping away from him at the seams.

Eventually, his pain turned to agony that flooded throughout his skull, his vision entirely consumed by the golden glow, its brightness blinding to him, even within his sleep; it was apparent that this was far more than a simple dream, and, most frighteningly of all, he could not awake from it, no matter how hard he fought. An angelic sound chimed throughout his ears, deafeningly so, when, at sudden, it all became clear to him: a naaru, specifically D'ore, appeared before his blinded vision, as clear as day. "Awaken, Danarshi. Awaken." the naaru's voice bellowed, Danarshi, indeed, awakening. His breathes were fast, yet, heavy, sweat pouring down his face, as though he had run for miles on end. Upon gazing down at his body, the sight in which he came to witness was one of bewilderment: he glowed in the Holy radiance of the Light, shock pouring through his veins, his jaw lowering in to an extent that expressed his surprise.

It was not long before the Holy glow ceased to exist, Danarshi grasping at his own skin in desperation; once more, he had awoken to the Light, and was immediately terrified of the concept of losing touch of it again. Danarshi rose up unto his hooves, gazing off into the space of the ceiling that sheltered him, before shrouding his face with each of his hands, profound shame and revolt devouring his emotions. Once more, D'ore, he who had been watching over him, tore him from the jaws of insanity, awakening him to both reason, and the Light. Danarshi had never before felt such shame, not even when he escaped from the ranks of the corrupted Auchenai. Frenzied thoughts danced across his mind: regret, disgust, confusion, even suicide. Did he, who twice forsook his people, the naaru, and the Light, truly deserve to live?

Danarshi had almost come to terms with the fate in which he felt he deserved, until, at sudden, the truth struck at him: in death, despite his sins, he was of no use, for he would remain as a ghost, a spirit, he who would be lost and distressed in consequence of his uneasy death, incapable of embracing the Holy Light and serving its tenets; it was a weak-willed escape from the mistakes in which he had made, and an insult to D'ore who had, twice, saved him from insanity. In life, he had the option to strive to redeem himself, to earn the forgiveness of the draenei and the naaru, so that the Light may, some day, return to him. It was at this moment that Danarshi steered the course of his life in an entirely new direction, abandoning Stormwind City's underworld without a whisper, and setting out into the streets in order to rediscover his place within the Holy Light, and how he was to find it. Still, he could not wield the Light, despite his everlasting memory on how to so; he would have to earn the right, and this, he was prepared to achieve.

Elysium
Danarshi predominantly spent the next few following months in solitude, desperate on finding a means of placing his first steps upon the path of redemption. For this time, he was lost, clueless on what was the most appropriate means of seeking forgiveness within the Light. Danarshi, across the span of these weeks, remained within Stormwind City; it was one of the only locations upon Azeroth that was not alien to him. As the third month ticked by, his hope had even begun to wane. Would he ever be able to find redemption? Was there anybody upon the face of Azeroth who would be willing to help or forgive him? Was he even worthy of the absolution in which he sought? These thoughts whirled about his mind, rendering his search as the most difficult that it had been.

Empty days passed by the perplexed Danarshi, his search enduring with an iron will, until the day in which he had been looking for had, at last, unveiled itself; on this day, a draenic order known as Elysium, had coincidentally found Danarshi during a diplomatic visit to Stormwind City. Their initial impressions of Danarshi were of a beaten, lost, struggling and pleading individual, one who was desperate for aid. Out of pity for a fellow draenei, despite the darkened taint that laid weaved throughout his very essence, the leadership of Elysium decided upon taking the man beneath their wing, granting him passage by sea to Azyuremyst, and Bloodmyst Isle, there where the crash site of the Exodar laid, and where the draenei had declared their new home; it was soon to become Danarshi's, as well.

Despite Danarshi's checkered past, those of Elysium could see the rue within his eyes and words; it was clear that he wished to redeem his sins. With Danarshi's promise of straying from his dark tendencies, they accepted him into their ranks. Aedion, the exarch of Elysium, urged Elysium's many gifted anchorites, one by the name of Taelandris, in particular, to help in the healing of Danarshi's marred soul; they followed the request of their leader without question, working to teach Danarshi in the ways that he had all but forgotten, the majority of his training having taken place within the Exodar itself. Although his past expertise on the Holy Light was to accelerate his learning process, the tenets of morality in which linked the draenei with the Light, were an aspect that he was to master once more; until he could truly think, and act like an anchorite, he was far from reclaiming his title and abilities.

Danarshi's road to redemption was not to come easily, his path hurdled with trials that would test his prowess as an anchorite; although the results were of an initially disappointing nature, all, including Danarshi, knew that, despite his past venerability in the practice, his return to the Light would not come easily. Over the span of months, the tests remained ripe with hardship and failure, with little improvement. No matter how hard he would try, how much he would study, nor how much he would call out to the naaru, O'ros, for further guidance, he could not seem to trace the Light essence that remained hidden deep inside of him, sealed away with a lock that seemed nigh impenetrable. Each time he fell, he picked himself up and continued moving. Until he had earned his forgiveness, no matter how difficult it was to be, or how long it was to take, he had not the right to wane.

Redemption
Upon a brief return to Stormwind City, a miraculous turn of events was to fall upon Danarshi as he was, at sudden, challenged to a duel by a female shaman of his own race upon the streets of the Cathedral District; it became apparent to him that she had sensed the corruption that dwelled within him, and sought to test him on his will, destroying him if he were to fail. Fear, nor anxiety struck Danarshi; above all, he saw this as his ultimate trial, to see if he could, at last, summon the Holy Light; if he were to fail, then he would die, allowing a decisive conclusion as to whether or not he was truly worthy of the Light's forgiveness. With all of his training weighed down upon this moment, Danarshi accepted the shaman's request, vowing that he would purely defeat her with the Light alone, or be defeated, himself.

Taking initiative upon a rise at Stormwind Harbour, the two of them granted one other their wishes of luck before, alas, the duel began, the shaman having raised her hands towards the skies, summoning a powerful surge of lighting from the clouds above their heads, readying a spell that was more than capable of ending the duel in her favour. Danarshi, his eyes engulfed by the brightness of the gathering electricity, took but mere deep, simple breath before closing his eyes. Blocking out all that was happening around him, he focussed as hard as an Auchenai monk, the memories of his training with Elysium flashing before his very eyes, allowing him to recall the fundamentals of all that he had learned. The very moment that the shaman unleashed an incredible bolt of lightning upon Danarshi, an immediate feeling of peace consumed him; he felt no pain.

Opening his eyes, surprised that he had not fallen, a gasp fled from Danarshi's lips at the sudden appearance of a holy barrier in which he had become encased within, the electricity of the lightning bolt surging about its surface to little avail. As the shaman's attack waned, she ceased her offense, allowing Danarshi's shield to expire before issuing the man with a respectful bow, proceeding to make her leave without the mutter of a word; he had proven himself as worthy. At last, Danarshi, in his bravery, had earned his forgiveness, unlocking his ability to wield the Holy Light once more; for the first time in months, he felt happiness and accomplishment.

Danarshi deemed that he, despite his ability to wield the Holy Light, had not yet reached the end of his path, abruptly returning to the Exodar where he continued his training; it would still require many years of practice before he could grasp the capabilities that he had once possessed. With his newfound motivation, the challenges laid before him became of progressive ease, allowing him to excel at the subject, his power growing with each new understanding. Danarshi spent the near entirety of the coming months with Elysium, allowing him the time to also grow familiar with the Isles, and the Exodar itself; to him, the Dimensional Ship was reminiscent of his years aboard the Genedar, reminding him of the many planets in which he had been privileged to tread upon; it aided him in realising that, no matter how dark life may seem, there is always a light to be found.

Additionally, Danarshi met a handful of memorable draenei within Elysium, they who he considered as friends, despite the social awkwardness that he had become famous for throughout the order; these people helped in Danarshi's remembrance of the very meaning and feeling of friendship, a subtle lesson of its own that would, perhaps, some day, allow his personality to flourish to a state that had been lost countless millennia in the past; it was wishful thinking, at best, though it, at least, gave him hope on the matter. Moreover, when not studying the Holy Light or familiarising himself with his fellow members of Elysium, he took to travelling Azeroth, discovering much of the rich history that laid both above, and below the soil of its continents.

Blood and Banishment
In recognition of distant continents, such as Northrend and Pandaria, Danarshi had, unfortunately, not even gained the opportunity to venture to the latter; his experience of Northrend was also only very limited, at best. On numerous occasions, Danarshi even found himself briefly revisiting Outland, each time having been due to the calling of Elysium, as his people's connection with the shattered world continued to stand surprisingly strong. Although he had been planning a proper expedition that would take across of Northrend and Pandaria, his plans were all but squandered upon one quiet, peaceful day, where Danarshi found himself roaming the wilderness of the Azuremyst Isle in tranquility.

Although Danarshi knew only little of the struggle his people had faced upon the isles following the devastating crash landing of the Exodar, wandering the forests of Azuremyst Isle brought about him a great deal of pride, yet, harmony; its forests emitted an aura of peace, despite the damage that had been caused by the wreckage, and it was a testament to the perseverance of the draenei. Native birds could be heard in every given direction surrounding him, forever singing their tunes, from the treetops to the skies, until, at sudden, their songs were blown clear from the ear, as the sound of a loud explosion, one that was capable of sending creatures scattering across miles out of fear, was heard. Danarshi could only turn as he heard the deafening sound, that of which had clearly originated from only closely behind him.

Silence was all that he could hear, now, as Danarshi pushed his way back through the thicket of the azure woods, searching curiously for what could have caused such a horrific sound. There, before him, a portal of unknown origin was revealed, strikingly green in colour; it immediately reminded him of the Fel, although, of this, he could not be certain. It laid before him, open, like the maw of the damned itself, before closing in on itself only a moment after he had spotted its presence. Not a trace of the portal was left to be seen, although one would have to be blind to have ignored the mysterious, though miniature, fiery green crystal that left floating above the ground where the portal had been only a moment beforehand. The strange crystal rotated in a circular motion, its nature unnervingly familiar to Danarshi, who cautiously began his approach towards the strange crystal.

As Danarshi grew close to the crystal, he could not help but notice the chilling glare of a pair of yellow eyes that rested within its core, blazing like a lit flame, gazing into his very soul; glaring, even. Danarshi had seen this crystal before, this he knew, although, despite its familiarity, he could not place a conclusive finger upon it. He was more than tempted to destroy the disturbing object and be done with it, however, to his own misfortune, his curiosity fought against his will, and, with humiliating ease, gained the better of him. Danarshi continued his weary approach of the crystal, until he stood only inches away from it. With the raising of his right hand, seconds ticking by, his fingers drew closer to the crystal, its eyes staring into him, forcing hesitation into him the closer that he drew to it.

At last, Danarshi's fingertips made contact with the crystal. At first, nothing seemed to happen in result of his action, until the palm of his hand touched upon its surface, in which a mighty force entered through his hand in an instant, forcing it into a tight hold of the crystal. This mighty force immediately rushed upward his arm, physically visible to him in the form of varying streaks of demonic, Fel energy; his suspicions had finally been proven as true: this was a Fel Crystal. As the fog crept towards his shoulder, the muscles within his right arm were locked up, their ability to function rendered as null. Not even the full might of his free, left arm could help tug his frozen limb from its grasp around the crystal; the more that his body struggled and panicked, the weaker that he grew, unnaturally so.

Danarshi's energy evaporated within seconds, his mind falling numb as his vision blurred. Danarshi fell into a submissive kneel, unable to hail his own weight back up on to his hooves. He gazed up at the Fel Crystal with weakening eyes, it being the last entity that he saw, as the remainder of its Fel energy wrapped around his body. No muscle within Danarshi's body was left functioning when the crystal had expended its power, falling into a gray, powerless state, its eyes melting away into nothingness before it shattered into countless fragments, Danarshi, at this very moment, having lost his consciousness.

Danarshi witnessed horrific visions within his state of unconsciousness, comprised of dark, twisted images, many of them showing the grueling genocide of over a dozen different species beneath the hand of the Burning Legion. The Horde, the Alliance, and even his own people, all of which were included within the images. His dreams became comprised of landscapes that were consumed by fires of a harlequin, green hue, distant volcanoes rising up from the earth itself, erupting waves of molten Fel that poured down their rocky faces, clouds of green acid spewing from the craters and choking the atmosphere, producing storms of demonic appearance. From these clouds rained armies of infernals, falling upon the helpless mortals of Azeroth, the ground trembling in fury as each infernal struck against the blackened soil.

Cities were razed, Stormwind itself having been amidst this terrifying wave of destruction. This was the devastation that the Burning Legion was more than capable of. At sudden, Danarshi's visions fell to darkness once more as his ears began to ring, painfully. Initially, he could feel nothing, until his nerves had begun to function; he could feel a stabbing sensation poking against his back. Gradually, his vision returned to him, his first sight being of a sky that was consumed by a swirling vortex, reminiscent of the Shadowlands. Slowly, though steadily, Danarshi began to rise, his body weakened and aching to a numbing extent. Danarshi, curious about the sensation that continued to stab into his back, gazed down at where he sat, his eyes having widened with despair within a mere second; dozens of draenei skulls stared back up at him.

Following a fearful gasp, Danarshi scrambled down the bone pile, his hooves moving as fast as his weary legs could take him, sending him tumbling down towards the floor with the sound of creaking bones beneath him, his weight proving difficult to carry in his weakened state. As his body crashed against the charred ground in which the bones rested upon, he did not need further evidence as to his whereabouts: he was located at the Bone Wastes, this becoming painstakingly obvious as Auchindoun's accursed ruins were revealed before Danarshi's very eyes, sitting evocatively in the near distance. He took his breaths two at a time, heaving and wheezing away as the dust gathered by countless bones filled his lungs. With what little might that his arms could muster, he used them to shakily push himself up off of the ground, eventually finding his footing, after what may have been one of his most greatest struggles throughout his lifetime, with a sprinkle of exaggeration. Danarshi looked about his surroundings, stunned and confused. How could this have possibly been reality? He began to wonder if it were merely another part of his nightmare.

Danarshi soon heard a deep, bellowing voice, booming across the Bone Wastes with a lasting echo, forcing him to shudder from its magnitude. The voice called out for his name, over, and over, and over again, his mind growing pained after each time that it sounded. Displeased with the idea of remaining where he stood, he began to wander forward, his hand held against his forehead, squeezing against the throbbing pain, until, alas, his eyes met with a tall, towering figure that stood before him, its eyes a resemblance of those that glared beneath the surface of the Fel Crystal upon Azuremyst Isle, the colour of its flame being green rather than yellow. With skin run a deep, blood red, cracked with Fel energy, it was clear to Danarshi that he was facing a man'ari, an eredar of the Burning Legion.

Danarshi halted to a stop, frozen upon the spot. Dropping each of his arms with a clench of his teeth and a furious growl, he glared the man'ari in his very eye, he, of which, carried a devious grin. "Ah, Danarshi. At last, I have found you. It has been so long since last I spoke with you. I must say, time truly has taken its toll upon you. Perhaps it is your skin, or your hair? You do look rather sickly, I am afraid I must so-strongly suggest." the man'ari began, his tone a playful one, clearly mocking. "Your nerve is unwavering, man'ari." Danarshi stated with a snarl. The man'ari's grin only seemed to widen further, untouched by the draenei's amusing resistance. "Indeed, it is. How could one possibly possess a lack nerve when they hold as much power as I do?" the man'ari postured.

"You see, Danarshi, you and I both know each other, this I can safely confirm. You could even say that we were once quite the "friends", at some point in time." the man'ari continued to tease, anger and impatience boiling within Danarshi. "Cease your game of riddles, demon. Who are you, and why have you forced me back upon the grounds of this forsaken mausoleum? Few man'ari I have crossed were spared of my wrath. Your twaddling is a waste of breath." Danarshi rebeliously snapped back at the man'ari, who remained much unaffected by the comeback. "Twaddling? That is quite the word, Danarshi. Are you confident on your accusation? I am insulted by your lack of faith in me." the man'ari sarcastically remarked.

"The words that I speak are of no nonsense, you see; in fact, they are quite the opposite. I suppose I should not be surprised by your ignorance, considering that I am speaking to a mortal who was foolish enough to lay his hand upon a Fel Crystal. Thirty seven thousand years of experience and you still you fall for such trickery? I am sorely disappointed in you, Danarshi; even I expected more of you.“ the man'ari continued to taunt, his grin only further widening, enough that a singular laugh had managed to escape beyond his lips. "If you had suspected that your trap would be so easily detected, then why did you not enact a more cunning plan? That, cretin, I am disappointed of." Danarshi argued, his words having been spoken without much breath between them.

The man'ari fell into a brief fit of laughter, shaking his head at Danarshi. "Not only are you an ignoramus, but you are a hypocrite, as well. Twaddling, you said? I could say the very same for you. As for the Fel Crystal, I enjoy toying with my prey. I wished to see if you would pass your first trial, that of which you proceeded to fail, miserably. I suggest that you contemplate on that, before you decide upon degrading yourself any further." the man'ari jeered. "You are lucky I am too weak to cut out your tongue, fiend. I possess no patience for your kind." Danarshi remarked, the man'ari's face indicating that he possessed little care for his threats.

"My, but of course! Where are my manners? I cannot simply point out all of your flaws and name it a conductive conversation! One aspect that I must compliment you on, Danarshi, is your courage. You would charge into the fray of virtually any danger long before you evaluate the risks that may result from your hasty actions. In a sense, you even remind me of Archimonde, he who has enacted the fall of countless worlds. You, too, could have been a conqueror, you know, if you had not so foolishly chosen the wrong side; the weak side. Within the Burning Legion, your bravery could have been endless. Instead, you chose to follow the false prophet, Velen, and the deceitful word of the naaru. They claim that they wield the power to protect you, and that they possess the means of putting an end to us. The naaru merely harp lies at you, for they are no less hopeless than your own people. They know that they cannot defeat us, and yet, even so, they hold the gal to delay the long-deserving demise of the draenei, and the rest of their preserved pets. Their efforts are futile, for we are an endless force, an endless, immortal legion that cannot be stopped." the man'ari vocalised, his grin having lessened to nothingness throughout the course of his speech.

Danarshi, his hands clenching tighter, stood tall and proud, despite his aching body. "You gravely underestimate the potential of the Holy Light, demon. You do not even comprehend its true nature; you cannot. To be one with the Light is to be defined by hope itself. Without the Light, there is only the Shadow. In the Void, there is no hope, no positivity, but only negativity. The Light guides my people, ensures that our resolve remains forever strong, no matter how dark the universe may appear. For a time, I was forced to wander alone, without the guidance of the Light. Never before had I felt so... exposed, so... vulnerable. I was lost. The Burning Legion cannot wield the Light; it burns the wicked, purging your kind. Without it, you will never possess our strengths." Danarshi uttered, pausing for but a moment, brief enough that the man'ari could not speak back.

"Most importantly of all, we, the draenei, did not allow our will to be broken. We resisted Sargeras' offer of unlimited power, for we were wise enough to know the sacrifices that we would be forced to make, in payment of such promises. In choosing my freedom over eternal servitude, I possessed the ability to forge my own destiny. You, man'ari, lacked that strength of will. Out of greed and fear, you threw away your one chance at paving your own path. Now, your destiny lays within the hands of a delusional dark titan. You are beneath me. You are the dirt that rests beneath my hooves.” Danarshi concluded with a snarl, slamming a hoof down against the singed soil. An expression of anger consumed the man'ari's face, a nerve having been struck.

The demon growled and twitched upon the spot. "Worthless little gnat. You could not possibly be any more daft. Do you not understand that we man'ari do not even even need to rely on hope to see our means through? Hope is a tool for the weak to exercise use of, for them to forget just how miniature and pathetic they are. The Burning Legion holds the fate of the Great Dark Beyond within its own grasp. If we demand a world be wiped from existence, then that is how history shall be written. We do not have a need for hope, nor any form of your so-called "positivity", when the universe itself thrives off of our mercy. I grow weary of this idle banter. Your false beliefs will not help you through that of which I have planned for you, Danarshi." the man'ari lashed out at volume, frustration enveloping him.

The man'ari, with a wave of his arms, fabricated an outlandish essence within the palms of his hands, that of which was unlike the Void or Fel. "Are you not curious as to why I have brought you here, to Auchindoun? Surely you are, considering its, let's say... "significance", to your past?" the man'ari verbally poked at Danarshi. "What are you getting at?" he interrogated, his fangs left bare. "You see, Danarshi, I know precisely of the deeds you committed within those crypts that are ripe with the fallen of your race. You rose them from death itself in some feeble, delusional attempt at "giving them a second chance at life". Even when you began to realise just how misled you had been, you delved further, and further into the practice. You relished every little dying moment of your studies, didn't you, Danarshi? Do not even bother denying it, for you and I both know that it is true. Aelleena's spirit must have held such an immense hatred for you, after the atrocities that you committed upon her beaten corpse." the man'ari voiced in a degrading manner.

Danarshi could now feel his blood boiling with fury. With a second stomp of his hoof, causing a patch of earth to crack beneath him, he remained tall in his stance, his anger having distracted him beyond his weakened state. "You dare touch upon my past in such a way?! I regret all that I committed within those halls, all of it! In the name of my beloved wife who I failed to protect, I will smite you down in the name of the Light!" Danarshi proclaimed with a yell. He took an offensive step towards the demon, raising the open palm of his right hand and unleashing a streak of holy energy against his chest; it resulted in little more than a flesh wound, nor did it cause him any noticeable pain. The resilience of the man'ari was enough to wane Danarshi's courage within mere seconds, causing him to cease any attempt at a second attack.

"That was it? That was all of the power that you could muster? I should have considered facing you whilst you were in your prime; perhaps then you would have at least made for a challenge." the man'ari insulted, Danarshi's eyes racing about, charged with caution; this was no ordinary man'ari. "As amusing as it has proven, I, unfortunately, did not lure you out here simply to tease at your pitiful past. If I had wanted you to be crying out for mercy, you would have been doing as such, well beyond a minute past. If I had wanted you dead, however, then you would have died well beyond a millennia ago. If I had wanted you to join us, then you would already be man'ari. My intention, you see, was to use this rather... "fitting" location, for that of a family reunion. Would you not agree with me, Danarshi? Or have you truly forgotten the face of your own brother?” the man'ari, at last, revealed. Silence came to envelop them for several moments.

Danarshi began to quiver, his strength seeping back out of his body as he stumbled several steps away from the man'ari. His eyes were dominated by dread, and his throat had turned dry, his voice unable to make even a smidgen of sound. “I can see it within your eyes, Danarshi. You know now exactly who you are speaking with. Indeed, you are not wrong; you are, in fact, right, my brother. You-are-right.” the man'ari ensued, raising each his arms to his sides. “It is I, Mordaros, your brother, alive and well, in the very flesh.” Mordaros finished his fragmented sentence, a slight smirk returning to his face. Danarshi could only manage to shake his head in a repetitive method, denial flooding throughout his mind. His mouth opened, though, still, not a sound could escape it. He could not bare to believe this as the truth.

“What is the matter, Danarshi? You are looking rather grim. Do you not admire what I have become? Sargeras enhanced the eredar, making us into an unstoppable force, one to be feared by all beyond even dear Argus itself. Naaru, the Light, free of will or not, you were foolish to resist the gift that he had offered you. You became so very susceptible to death upon following the renowned traitor, Velen. Oh, and, if you were wondering: do you remember the eredar who went by the name of Levixus? The one who referred to himself as "the Soul Caller"? The very being who bestowed the gift of necromancy upon you? It was through him that I could see all that you had accomplished within those darkened halls. You showed great promise, Danarshi; you could have made a worthy man'ari. Unfortunately for you, your time had come, and it is now gone. There is only one fate left for you: to perish, for all of eternity.” Mordaros scoffed, his glowing hands pulsating a shade of green for but a moment, followed by a series of Fel "tendrils" that burst from the crust beneath Danarshi's very hooves, binding him to the spot via his wrists and ankles. Mordaros' hands only continued to shine in a plethora or colours; his ultimate spell was drawing close to completion.

"Now, before I send you off on a long, hard-earned slumber within the Twisting Nether, do you have any final, touching words that you would desire be passed on to your beloved brother of old? I would be much eager to hear them, after having waited such immeasurable time in order to speak with you again." Mordaros brought forward in suggestion, his words nonchalant more than anything else. Danarshi, despite his agony, as the Fel tendrils began to burn into his flesh, mustered the vigour to speak. “...Mordaros..." Danarshi forced from his lips, followed by yet another bout of silence. Mordaros, in response to this, leaned in closer to Danarshi, placing a hand by his ear, as a gesture that he was listening.

"I loved you, like any true brother would. There was no friend who I would have had replace you. I forced myself to assume that you had perished in the initial attack upon Argus, in a deep fear that your fate could have been of a worse one. Now, my eyes bare witness to you, your skin run red, pocked by the corruption of Fel. You are no different than Kil'jaeden, now." Danarshi spoke in a rather faint voice, barely audible enough to have been heard. "Touching. I, too, loved you as a sibling, once upon a time, until you were revealed as being a traitor to your own kind. It is difficult to find love for one who possesses such a title, this I am certain you understand. Now, if that was all that you were able to squeeze from your fragile little vocal chords, then I shall be-" Mordaros began to pronounce, as Danarshi suddenly cut back in.

"Look at yourself! Do you not see what Sargeras has done to you?! I will not deny that dark magics did, too, take a toll upon me, though you are not even phased by your corruption. You think that you have been bettered by all that you have gained, when, truly, you have only lessened yourself. Power does not mean as much as you have been led to believe. There is a limit to the amount of power that one can possess, before it is simply too much. I limited myself, so that I may still be myself. You, in your lust for power, have lost yourself. You think that you are the master of your own magics, when, in fact, they are the master of you. In power comes great responsibility, Mordaros, and, in the latter, you possess none. The man who you once were, died on the day he made his decision to bow before the Burning Legion. You are an image of the mistake that he made, nothing more, nothing less." Danarshi articulated, his tone having strengthened the further that he spoke.

Mordaros' smile had all but evaporated. "Say as you will, Danarshi. Regardless of what you may believe, the Burning Legion is coming. Azeroth is far from a safe refuge for the draenei. We will return, and when we do, the last of your people's hope shall be snuffed out like the dying flame that it is. The naaru, nor your "Alliance", will be capable of preventing the long awaited doom of your new homeworld. Its seas will boil, and its continents shall break. When we are done with Azeroth, Outland shall stand as a world of beauty in comparison to it. You, however, shan't possess the privilege to see our final plans take motion." Mordaros said, as, at last, his spell was complete, conjuring a gateway to the Twisting Nether itself, that which opened behind Danarshi; he could feel the force of the rift pulling against him, the Fel tendrils proving as his only remaining tether.

There was nothing that Danarshi could do to save himself; he had already lost. Without choice but to accept his fate that may have, at long last, been sealed, he softly closed his eyes for but a moment, capturing a long-drawn breath, before immediately reopening them, gazing down at the ground beneath him. "The naaru, nor the draenei, have ever been as prepared for the Legion as they are now. When the Burning Crusade reaches Azeroth, it shall be met by an army of races, united and ready to stand against it. You have failed to claim our world twice before; you shall fail again." he confidently claimed, before looking back up at Mordaros. "The tables are turning, and with it, the Legion's end draws ever nearer." Danarshi uttered, taking a brief pause. "Goodbye, Mordaros." he finished with what were made out to be the final words of his life.

Mordaros followed up Danarshi's preaching with yet another laugh, disregarding his warning. "Goodbye, Danarshi." he said, before he, at sudden, shielded Danarshi within a barrier that was comprised of the Twisting Nether's own energies. As the barrier encased him, his consciousness was lost, followed by the abrupt release from his binds, in which sent him falling helplessly through the rift, that of which closed behind him only shortly afterwards.

Danarshi's state of unconsciousness served as a form of stasis, rendering him unaware of his surroundings, in prevention of driving him to insanity, and, potentially, far more powerful, as venturing throughout the Twisting Nether in consciousness was capable of transforming those with even the strongest of wills. Within his stasis, there was nothing that Danarshi could do; he was not even self-aware. Truly, he was trapped, and this was to be a foreseeable end for him. Not even did he possess the freedom to dream, his mind resorting to nothingness, in the form of an empty, black void, of one that he could barely even notice; it was as though he did not exist, or had perished. Fortunately, the stasis passively froze Danarshi in time, pausing his bodily functions, rendering him as virtually immortal. Sadly, despite the benefits, they were wasted, as, within his stasis, he was powerless.

As the months drifted by him, Elysium were the only beings to take notice of his sudden disappearance; none of them knew where he had gone, some having even speculated that he had wished to escape the order, or had simply found death. Regardless of what any of them wished to believe, his months of inactivity had him removed from their ranks, with nothing that he could have done to prevent it.

Mordaros had plotted Danarshi's fate with enormous care. Whether or not his means of preserving his brother was an act of mercy was yet to be determined, considering how easily he could have simply taken his life. Nonetheless, his plan was, in fact, fatally flawed, as the Twisting Nether is an unstable matrix of immense measure, and what is able to occur within was still, to that day, not entirely known, not even by the Burning Legion's most gifted spellweavers. Soon, it would come to light that, not forever would Danarshi travel the Twisting Nether, as Mordaros had originally anticipated. A moment in time came when an anomaly within the Twisting Nether stream opened, one that was dangerously close to the drifting, timeless Danarshi. This rift was powerful in nature, although incredibly unstable, unable to support a large quantity of material before closing back in upon itself; its pull, however, was more than powerful enough to draw Danarshi towards it.

Danarshi's motionless body drifted into the unknown, as he was sucked directly through the rift. The blackness, in which he had barely taken notice of throughout his unconsciousness, turned to every colour that his eye could identify, entirely visible to him. As white struck his vision, it was then that he re-awoke, not even a year having passed by him. Beneath him was luscious, golden grass that perked out of rich soil. The sound of life sang all around him, meeting with his ears. These sounds were something that he was oddly familiar with, this having puzzled him; the songs in which the birds were singing, they were familiar to him, although he could not recall where he had heard them; Azuremyst Isle was cleared from his list, as it was clear enough to him that he had not returned there. As he began to rise from the floor, gradually finding his strength as he rested upon his knees, he bared witness to a sight far beyond his own belief: an unscathed Talador.

Trivia
-Danarshi can typically be found on the Moon Guard server both in-game and on the World of Warcraft armory.

-Danarshi's name was once "Lacvanis", which has long since been retconned. Lacvanis, out of character wise, however, still existed for many years following his recreation into Danarshi, which occurred during Cataclysm. The character was not deleted until Warlords of Draenor. Lacvanis was, out of character wise, an Unholy death knight, as his focus on necromancy, in character wise, was overly profuse for a draenei. Overall, the character concept as a whole has come a long way since that point.

-Danarshi was originally created during 2009 on the Saurfang server. He was a Discipline priest who, due to out of character inexperience at the time, used the specialisation purely to deal damage. Shortly following the recreation of the character, renamed "Lacvanis", on the Moon Guard server in 2010, the original Danarshi from Saurfang was deleted. Today's iteration of the character was created on the 19th of January, 2012 and adopted the original name.

-Danarsho, the orc infant rescued by Danarshi in the segment "Noble Intent", is, in fact, a real in-game character. This character was created on the Saurfang server in the year 2009/2010, though was moved to Wyrmrest Accord during 2015. His name was inspired by Danarshi's. Due to their strikingly similar names, involving him directly with Danarshi, in character wise, was the most fitting course of action in explaining the origins of the orc's name. He can be found on the World of Warcraft armory.

Future Plans

 * I am currently working on completing the alternate Draenor segment of the story. It has all been written, but is yet to have been edited. There are over fifty A4 pages waiting to be checked, so don't expect it to all be on this page any time soon.
 * Until the page's ultimate completion, I will forever be creating and adding more images, in order to help make the page more vibrant and interesting to read through.
 * At some point, I would like to create unique pages for all of the important characters that appear during Danarshi's backstory. While I still feel it's important that the reader knows what happened to them, I understand that showing it here in detail is an unnecessary amount of fluff. Anyone who wishes to learn about them in detail will be able to visit their pages (I most likely will not be removing any of their sections from here until all of their pages are created).