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 both his people, and his allies, via the means and morals that are entangled with the Holy Light. He is an erudite individual, in consequence of his eons of experience; he additionally possesses expertise in the arts of a soulpriest and harbinger, carrying wisdom over both Shadow magic, and melee prowess; he is knowledgeable in regards to various other miscellaneous professions and crafts, as well.

Despite the high esteem in which Danarshi is held, due to his prior and ongoing service to both the naaru and the Light as that of an anchorite aboard the Dimensional Ship, the Genedar, and an Auchenai soulpriest within the former draenei mausoleum, Auchindoun, both himself, and his reputation, are but an echo of their former selves, due to an ephemeral plunge to insanity in which he recently suffered, an incident that ultimately brought Danarshi to twist his own, physical image through the usage of dark magics, specifically necromancy, a scar that the anchorite bares 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 erase his former sins, and to become the august anchorite that he had once been. Still, in conjunction with the Light, he preserves the will to wield the Shadow, believing it to be an essential element 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, Te'Amun, whom, thus far, in particular, have proven themselves as essential in his quest for redemption, shining hope upon his future, and allowing him a plethora of friendships that would not have been possible otherwise.

Today, Danarshi continues down the path of redemption, seeking to perfect himself whilst delivering honour upon the names of both his people, and his allies. Above all in which he strives to achieve, his ultimate goals have remained certain for countless millennia: to reclaim Argus for the draenei, and to find a means of destroying the Burning Legion, once and for all.

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 firstborn son of Shi'var and Duum'viaer, was born upon the planet of Argus, the former homeworld of his people, the eredar. Scattered across Argus were countless different regions, and the eredar, who were considered the masters of their own world, even at this time, likely dominated the majority of the planet. The eredar people thrived extensively off the energies of powerful and unique crystals, found most commonly beneath the earth, this having become the pinnacle of their functionality and success as a society. Their crystals very well shaped them as a people, shifting their architectural designs, powering their settlements, destroying those who would dare inflict harm upon them, and their capabilities travelled far beyond.

Danarshi, in particular, was born within a settlement known as: Amanare, which was nestled within the very heart of a rural area of Argus, known as Amanalar, a land that eventually housed six separate settlements in total, they of which were named: Xzaarven, Boros, Faralihr, Umera, Korus, and Amanare, each of these settlements having been dotted separately throughout the region. Amanalar was predominately dominated by large, green, luscious plains of grass, with multiple species of native animals having roamed its colourful, rolling hills, either to simply graze, migrate, mate, give birth to their young, or be hunted by either the settlers, or the deadly predators. Throughout the seasons, Amanalar's landscape differentiated dramatically in appearance, and nature. In the summers, the grass would turn a thirsty yellow, as a dry heat hit upon the land. In autumn, the leaves of trees would fall in droves, and an orange hue would often fill the landscape. In winter, frost covered the land like a thick blanket, as much of the wildlife retreated into hibernation. In spring, the grass would be green once more, whilst flowers blossomed, creatures returned from their sleep, and the trees regrew their leaves.

Spotted around the lengthy outskirts of Amanalar were many peaceful, though dangerous forests, the thicket of these many forests having been much dominated by hostile wildlife, most certainly considered as being among the most inhospitable of locations within Amanalar, most especially during the earlier days of it's society, when it was most poorly defended and organised. A reasonable number of towering mountains rested ever so dormant by Amanalar's borders, having added to the natural beauty of the landscape on a rather grand scale, as snow forever coated the peaks of the tallest of the mountains. Despite the peaceful wonders that Amanalar, as a land, brought with it, it was not this that brought life into the eredar who lived within the region; it was it's settlements, and the cultural essence that flowed between them.

Amanare, the Heart and Soul
Amanare, the heart of both life, economy, and rulership within the Amanalar region, was the largest, oldest, and most populated settlement, out of the six that were present within the region, situated within the very centre of Amanalar. Amanare had rightfully earned it's place as the location of Amanalar's rulership, having been the region's first settlement, so naturally earned it's right to act as the capital of the region. Amanare was considered an old village, even in eredar terms, having existed for several millennia before the construction of a second settlement. The raw size that Amanare grew of itself throughout it's time, was certainly no feat to scoff at, despite the fact that it's origins were of but a simple, rural village. Amanare was marked as a simple farming village during it's earliest of days, having been very rural in it's general design, indeed, as the use of timber was far more common than that of the durable metals which had made themselves widely common with eredar architecture upon Argus; Amanare did not, however, remain this way for all of history. Amanare was lit against the darkness of night by torches and lanterns, rather than the use of crystals, which did not come into use, until a later date.

Although Amanare's very origins were of a simple, rural settlement, it did not always remain this way, as it's population had proved only to increase gradually overtime, as did it's size, increasing it's significance. In truth, Amanare's past was not always quite as successful and peaceful as many would think, as Amanalar remained an unclaimed land that was ripe for competition, a fact that brought many newcomers to cross it's borders. Many of these newcomers did not come to aid in Amanare's development, though rather to put an end to it, as they would begin to set up their own settlements across the region, in hopes of competing against Amanare for it's own land. Most of these competitors were simply driven out, or, when extreme measures were necessary: matched and beaten in battle. In the end, all who challenged Amanare were defeated, as Amanare always managed to stand out on top of those who would threaten it, even earning itself some impressive local fame in the process. Despite Amanare's success, it was fortunate that Argus' most respected powers did not seek ownership of Amanalar, as the settlement's existence would have been but a short one, if this were the case.

Xzaarven, Village of the Magus
Xzaarven, the second settlement to be arisen within Amanalar, was, at first, built in order to support the permanent colonisation of Amanalar, and to help ward off any further competition. Luckily for the denizens of Amanare, this plan did not only work marvellously, increasing their state of power over the region, though Xzaarven itself was even approached by three, peculiar, powerful mages from beyond Amanalar, only soon after the completion of it's construction. Each one of these three mages wielded a different class of magic, these being: fire, frost, and arcane.

Upon spotting the rather intimidating visitors, the people of Amanalar had their arms at the ready, expecting little more than a violent encounter, though to their surprise, this was but an entirely different matter, as the mages laid down their staves, knelt before the constructors of Xzaarven, and pledged their loyalty to those who dominated Amanalar, that they would be honoured to stay as permanent guests within their new settlement, sworn to bring both it, and the land itself, to further glory. At first, the idea of having a band of unfamiliar mages setting themselves up within their new village was concerning, at the very least, and rightfully so. After hard, immediate thought, the off chance that this would truly bring them all to glory, as the mages had promised them, was well worth the risks that came alongside it. Amanalar's leaders accepted the offer of the mages, although with an understandable measure of caution.

These mages made good on their word, truly impressed by Amanare's rough survival over the past several millennia, and were without hesitation to aid them on their road to success. Xzaarven's nickname was suddenly born: “Village of the Magus”. Amanalar's rulership was rather unimpressive in it's structure, until the mages stepped in, their neat and organised manner having promoted a superior system. Considering that it would only become a due necessity down the line, Amanalar's rulership took a grand step forward, even proceeding to name itself as the: “Amanalar Board of Rulership”. The magus of Xzaarven acted as the Board's wisest of guides, their wisdom rivaled by none. The respect that Xzaarven's mages had earned, alone, eventually allowed even the magus themselves their own, unique order, which was named the: “Xzaarven Order of Mages”. This order had no grasp over the management of Amanalar as a whole, and proved most essential for Xzaarven's personal wellbeing. Most importantly of all: the Xzaarven Order of Mages offered their teachings to all who would be willing to learn, placing many new and eager mages into the population of Amanalar. The Xzaarven Order of Mages would come to hold many variety of mages within their ranks, from students to teachers, and from teachers to the wise elders who gave the Order function.

Doros, the Blood and Veins
Doros, the third settlement to be founded within Amanalar, was a necessary addition to the growth of the region's society, as it was built by the very base of the tallest mountain near the border, allowing extensive mines to be built into the mountain itself, which proved to hold many precious minerals within. Although several mines were constructed across the region, Doros was undeniably the richest of them all, so earned it's place as Amanalar's third official settlement. Within it's expansive mines, many crystals and metals, ideal for various manners of crafts, were extracted from the tunnels. These resources, new to the people of Amanalar, did not only technologically advance the settlements of Amanalar by a significant amount, though even provided the region with the confidence to negotiate trade agreements with neighbouring regions, increasing their status as an individual nation, as they offered their various crystals, metals, and even timber, in exchange for goods that they never before had access to. In truth, it was Doros that indefinitely placed Amanalar on it's sure path to prosperity.

During the days that Argus remained a world of peace, never did Doros' mines run dry of resources. Although only few lived within the settlement itself, the majority of these being the miners themselves, some were simply drawn by the beauty of the sheer beauty of the mines, and the mountain that they resided within, and set up home within Doros. The remainder of Amanalar's population remained primarily situated within Amanare and Xzaarven, Amanare continuing on as the most populated settlement. By this time, the majority of those who resided within Xzaarven had become active users of magic, and the settlement's population did not quite compete with Amanare.

Doros' contribution to Amanalar society led to the creation of structures crafted purely of metal, and crystalline lighting systems. Overall, crystals offered the greatest technological advancement to life within Amanalar, their use expanding from the simple lighting systems, to even advanced defence mechanisms, which could easily ward off invaders, or even shroud the settlements beneath impressive force fields.

Despite the impressive defences that came with the new technological advancements, living and breathing guards would always remain a necessity. Amanalar had adapted to the famous concept that the majority of Argus had come to use almost everywhere: peacekeepers. The peacekeepers acted as Argus' most primary force of guarding and policing, and were an incredibly common sight on the planet, proving as no surprise that their presence had made it's way into Amanalar, as well. Multiple, willing candidates were trained tirelessly, so that they could serve as Amanalar's peacekeepers. These men and women served their region by maintaining the defensive systems of the settlements, patrolling the land, and keeping an eye out for trouble, ensuring that the roads between the settlements were kept clean of danger.

Faralihr, the Cultural Renaissance
Amanalar thrived for many more years with it's three, lone settlements, though in time, the population only continued to inflate, and the expansion of Amanare could stretch only so far. With the frequent imports of traded goods that arrived, they began to have increasingly less use, most especially due to the fact that they possessed no form of official market, aside from a few small scale ones within Amanare. The solution to this problem was but an obvious one, and so Faralihr was born, soon to house the greatest market found within Amanalar.

Built around the centre of Farahlir were many more buildings that became home to the people of Amanalar, eventually marking Faralihr as Amanalar's second largest residential settlement, bested by Amanare, and surpassing Xzaarven. Faralihr's marketplace soon attracted visitors from far and wide, and due to it's increasing importance, it became a place of cultural importance to the people of Amanalar, this giving birth to multiple community events that occurred frequently within the marketplace, including festivals, celebrations, and even plays, the peacekeepers of the region occasionally including themselves into these plays, which gave way for many interesting performances, gripping the attention and respect of eredar both from, and beyond Amanalar.

Surprisingly, Faralihr was soon to grant the region's most respected peacekeepers with an entirely new tier of power and importance, birthing them a new order. Those of the peacekeepers who had earned this place became known as an: “Amanalar Peacekeeper”. This did not replace Amanalar's original peacekeepers, and rather acted as an elite force, made up of the most powerful, and respected peacekeepers found within Amanalar. Whilst the average peacekeeper stood for an individual settlement alone, an Amanalar Peacekeeper represented the entire region as a whole, and it was their duty to defend every inch of it.

Becoming an Amanalar Peacekeeper was one of the greatest honours that could be bestowed upon a serving peacekeeper of Amanalar, and it was considered rare. This would only change if a decline in the order's population arose, though due to the impressive physical attributes and wit that these men and women possessed, a population decline almost never occurred. In multiple situations, the imposing status of the Amanalar Peacekeepers was enough to ward off entire attacks, or crimes. If an Amanalar Peacekeeper was nearby, then it was customary for everybody to act with innocence. The first eredar capable of surpassing the many tests required to become one within the Amanalar Peacekeeper order was, in fact: Duum'viaer, the father of Danarshi.

Umera, the Seed of Survival
Surprisingly, for the majority of Amanalar's existence, it did not possess a settlement purely dedicated to farming, an act which was, of course, crucial to the survival of the population, having provided it's many sources of food. Amanare served as Amanalar's primary source of food for a very long period of time, with various farmland dotted near some of it's borders. This was exceptional during Amanalar's earlier years, though as the society approached it's apex, even the combined use of trade did not prove enough to support the stomachs of Amanalar's growing population. Soon, a food depression arose within the region, the poor forced to starve, whilst the rich continued to eat.

The population of Amanalar began to grow fearful and restless. Riots began to appear across the streets of the four settlements, their people demanding that food be fairly distributed among the population. Despite how much the Amanalar Board of Rulership wanted to feed every one of it's people, the region simply needed far greater food reserves to be able to achieve this. As much as trade helped feed the people, it became obvious that Amanalar itself had to find a solution of it's own, in order to remedy this dire issue. Umera, the fifth settlement, was born, and served as the region's new primary source of food, acting as a wide scale farming settlement.

It was weeks before the population was able to be calmed and fed accordingly, and, above all, it was Umera that managed to deliver Amanalar from a grim disaster. In order to avoid such a tragedy from occurring a second time, Umera continued to grow as time moved forward, eventually providing such levels of produce, that they were even able to add it to their preferable items of trade with the outside regions. Umera only allowed a limited number of civilians, much like Doros, and was mostly occupied by farmers. Alongside food came other materials, such as dyes and fabrics, which proved useful for further trade, sale within the Faralihr market, and the crafting of items such as clothing and bandages. Although both fabrics and dyes clearly existed within Amanalar before the founding of Umera, it was far more limited in supply, beforehand.

Korus, the Final Breath
The growing success of Amanalar wrought a continuously growing population, and despite the dent that it's food depression had only barely managed to burn into it's side, progress was not hindered. Amanalar's five settlements served well as home for the population, though in order to truly ensure the stability of Amanalar's future, a new plan of action had been placed into motion: Korus. Korus was to serve as the first of many new settlements, all of which were to be entirely dedicated to the housing of Amanalar's excess population, and little else. Korus was officially the sixth, and final settlement built within Amanalar, proving as being the smallest of all six, though if more time had been granted, then this would have definitely proven to change. Korus was, in some matter of sense, the stillborn child of Amanalar's future.

Long Before the Storm
By the teachings of his father, Duum'viaer, Danarshi lived his life upon Argus as a harbinger from a considerably young age, and this was of no surprise, as his personality, at the time, was quite strongly forged by that of his father's. Duum'viaer was one with a strong personality, and although Danarshi did not necessarily take directly after his father's incredibly confident and domineering character, he rather simply became a highly enthusiastic person, notably always having been excited to tackle whatever challenges that life threw at him, and always being openly proud of his achievements. Some had even described Danarshi as a rather "fiery" character, as he had always been as passionate as he was short-tempered, not having been the most patient man by nature, although it could have most certainly been worse, considering the incomprehensibly long lifespans that the eredar were able to endure, which, in turn, naturally blessed them with a much stronger patience than most.

Although having been quite a friendly character at the time, one with many companions and friendships, Danarshi was undeniably a fast paced, energetic character, and if others could not keep up with him, then his relationship with them could have proved considerably difficult, although not impossible, as there were, in fact, many who could not keep up with him. Ultimately, Danarshi was an incredibly eager person, and his rise to glory as a harbinger came faster than it had for most, proving this point.

The harbingers were sworn, fierce combatants and defenders of the eredar people. Danarshi became an eventual expert in the use of melee tactics for close encounters, even shaping up as being a notable military figure of significance during his duty upon Argus, commended by the people of Amanalar, and eventually stationed to lead soldiers of less experience, after many years of earning his own experience. On most occasions, a harbinger in Amanalar was destined to become a peacekeeper, as it was the most practical use of their abilities, unless if solely becoming tutors, or venturing into other lands, in order to find, perhaps, a war worthy of fighting, or a gladiatorial arena to battle in, something that did not exist within Amanalar, and would not have been common on Argus, though certainly in existence, most likely for the primary purpose of entertainment, or dealing with the unjust.

Danarshi, following in the footsteps of his father, pursued his chance of becoming a peacekeeper as soon as it was available to him, and he succeeded with flying colours. Danarshi became a guardian of his home and people as an Amanare peacekeeper, and was sworn to ensure that no injustice would slip beneath his gaze. His duty in this role extended from the interior of Amanare's walls, to the exterior perimeter and roads, though not to Amanalar's other settlements. Leadership, unfortunately, was never Danarshi's strong suit, as he was one to often make rational decisions. Despite this, his involvement in this field often proved null, as he had little commanding to be concerned about, until he was to rise throughout the ranks as a peacekeeper. From here on in, Danarshi's combative expertise was put to an unfamiliar use, although one that quickly grew on him.

Danarshi's younger brother and lone sibling, Mordaros, had become an impressive mage from a relatively young age. Mordaros was strongly inspired by many of the stories that were told to him by his mother, Shi'var, from his early childhood and beyond. Passionately insisting that he begin training as a powerful mage during his adolescence, in an ambitious hope of becoming like those in the various stories that had been told to him, Duum'viaer was immediately displeased with Mordaros' dream, having strongly wished for him to become as his brother, Danarshi, had, in the practice of a harbinger. Following the course of what seemed like almost countless heated arguments and disagreements between the two, Mordaros proved only to refuse against his father's will, something that Duum'viaer had comically not grown used to.

Shi'var soon took Mordaros to the village of Xzaarven, in pursuit of the many mages that dwelled within it, as she was far more supportive of the dreams of her children than her husband was. Conceivably, the Xzaarven Order of Mages were very welcoming to the young, curious Mordaros. After proceeding to spend much time among them, regularly approaching them for tutoring, Mordaros was accepted into the order only soon after he passed into adulthood, after he had already gained a remarkable amount of success in his studies. He became adept in the art of fire magic, although he did not often have a need to use this knowledge, as he was rarely ever made to enforce self defence.

Mordaros was known as being the more "intellectually advanced" of his family, taking much after his mother, rather than his father, as Danarshi had. His mind, however, was anything but perfect, as he was quite a hot headed character, easy to anger, especially when his thoughts and ideals were disagreed with; he was an unpleasant character, when compared to his brother. Due to the many fights between Mordaros and Duum'viaer, the two never much got along with one another, although the respect and friendship that he had managed to maintain with his brother was far stronger than this. Danarshi was, in fact, one of Mordaros' only friends, and this was something that he could not help but treasure.

Impatience was another of Mordaros' greatest traits, this sometimes having even proved a worry for the mages of Xzaarven, as impatience could ultimately lead to a power hungry attitude, if not kept in check. In a sense, Mordaros' personality was comparative to that of his brother's, although with a sour twist, and not quite the same level of enthusiasm. Magic, being such an elaborate subject, required much time and patience, something Mordaros would not have strived at, if not for his significant level of intelligence, which, in turn, had him both learn, and tame his practice much faster than the average eredar, due to the rapid pace that he was able to study at, and his gifted ability to absorb almost any knowledge that he was to rest his eyes upon.

Duum'viaer was a venerable harbinger, and a well known, incredibly respected member of the Amanalar Peacekeepers, also proving as being one of it's very first members, likely having been one of the most likely origins of his powerful personality. Duum'viaer's appearance was one carved of both strength, and experience. Born a gifted leader, Duum'viaer often exercised a strict rule, whether it was to be enforced upon his own children, lower ranking military figures, or even civilians. He greatly respected and appreciated those who did as they were told, even if mistakes were made. Ultimately it was enthusiasm that meant the greatest deal to Duum'viaer, this having been among the reasons that the bond between himself, and Danarshi, had become so strong. To him, progress was progress, and mistakes were life's greatest lesson.

Duum'viaer approached discipline with utmost seriousness, and it was to only be used if one was either impolite, disrespectful, or disobedient, applying especially to those who did not have a ruling above him, which, within Amanalar, was not many. Impressively, he was even a decorated member of the Amanalar Board of Rulership itself, having held a significant pull in political matters concerning Amanalar and it's settlements, especially if it was related to military matters. Unlike the Amanalar Peacekeepers, however, Duum'viaer was not one of the Board's initial members, despite having resided within Amanare even prior to the Board's formation. Duum'viaer earned his place on the Amanalar Board of Rulership only shortly after being admitted as an Amanalar Peacekeeper, and it proved as yet another display of his venerability.

Reflected by his heroic feats over the span of five thousand years, Danarshi was miraculously elected a place among the ranks of the Amanalar Peacekeepers. In truth, Duum'vier was admittedly the key reason that Danarshi had been even admitted as an Amanalar Peacekeeper to begin with. Despite the number of heroic feats that Danarshi had performed during his service as a peacekeeper, even they paled in comparison to practically all of his fellow Amanalar Peacekeepers, and his skill as a leader was worthy of scoffing at. During his initial years as an Amanalar Peacekeeper, Danarshi was given little short of harsh treatment for his free pass into their order, though as the son of their most respected and venerable member, the backlash was fortunately a lot weaker than it could have been. Luckily for Danarshi, his mistreatment proved to die down with time, when he was given the many opportunities to prove his worth to them, in which he did so, time and time again, whenever possible. Danarshi's ability to lead others, however, remained open for debate.

Having become an Amanalar Peacekeeper, Danarshi's duties extended not only to every corner of Amanalar, though at times, even beyond, such as if a threat was to approach their borders. This, at times, even led them dozens of miles beyond their homeland. Danarshi's new role did, indeed, grant him the opportunity to venture beyond Amanalar, allowing him to experience locations of the world that he had never even dreamed of visiting, including various distant regions, their settlements, and on a single occasion, even the grand, fabled capital city of the eredar at the time: Mac'Aree. Few who lived outside the great city's walls were granted the opportunity to physically visit the great city, not exclusively due to forbidden access, though it's distant location from most; it's fame was often conceived as worth the voyage, despite this.

When tasked to travel large distances, the Amanalar Peacekeepers, along with other respective figures, such as politicians, commonly approached the mages of Xzaarven, in pursuit of their teleportation capabilities. Teleportation was something that very rarely exercised by the mages of Xzaarven, and only few ever learned how to perform it. Portals were normally offered only to those of significant power, such as, typically, the Amanalar Peacekeepers, who, even then, required a valid reason for being supplied with one. This was of little surprise, as Amanalar's people were not known as being travellers, most not ever leaving the bounds of their homeland. Usually, the Amanalar Peacekeepers would not even bother approaching the mages of Xzaarven, unless if it were for a quest of utmost importance. Luckily for them on one particular day, they had business within Mac'Aree, and that was more than important.

Being able to step through a conjured portal and experience Mac'aree firsthand was an incredible privilege for Danarshi and his fellow Amanalar Peacekeepers. Even to this day, he describes it as being one of the most elaborate architectural marvels that he has ever witnessed with his own eyes, since the very day of his birth. Even the very culture alone was something to be perplexed of, and the organisation of their peacekeeper force would have easily given even the Amanalar Peacekeepers a run for their money. In the majority of scenarios, selected Amanalar Peacekeepers ventured to outside civilisations, whether they be near, or distant, either to threaten them, or peacefully negotiate with their leaders, an operation most commonly exercised if tensions were growing, or to simply earn favour with them, in the hopes of forming a trade agreement, an alliance, or even both, if possible.

Missions of diplomacy were rarely handled by the Amanalar Peacekeepers alone, as they were, instead, most commonly tasked as being the guardians of whichever specialised diplomat was responsible for handling the situation, Mac'Aree certainly proving as no exception here. Duum'vier himself had the privilege, or, rather, burden, to handle the diplomatic attempt at securing favour with the civilisation of Mac'Aree. Even he would have been the first to admit that they were aiming far beyond their own league, although as a member of the Amanalar Board of Rulership, and the Amanalar Peacekeepers, Duum'vier was still the prime selection for such a volatile task. Despite any plans that they had made, and no matter how elaborate they may have been, Mac'Aree was among the most difficult of civilisations to impress, and with good reason. Ultimately, in consequence of this, the ambitious attempt at forming an alliance, or trade route with Mac'Aree, had failed for Amanalar, though fortunately, not all was lost. Mac'Aree's favour with Amanalar was slightly bolstered, most significantly due to the unusually impressive representation of Amanalar's leadership and force, proving more of a victory to the people of Amanalar than they had even been expecting. Truthfully, as this was not the most open of meetings, any remaining residents of Mac'Aree at the present date, would arguably hold no memory of Amanalar, nor their brief visit to their grand city.

Danarshi's mother, Shi'var, was also a well respected member of her people, though not as a fierce combatant, like her husband, but rather as a wise and intelligent philosopher. When not nose deep in her studies and lectures, she focused her time and efforts on the maintenance of family, even beyond just that of her husband and two sons. She was a very warm and approachable character, a woman who was always willing to listen to all that others had to say, and be there to support them in their most trying of times. No matter how diverse those around her were, she never allowed them much of a reason to dislike her, most specifically her family, appreciating them all as much as the other, with an equal level for respect and understanding for their goals, varying outlooks, and opinions.

Shi'var was among the few that Duum'viaer would not dare attempt to boss about, as their respect for each other was as impenetrable as their bond, one that had lasted for many thousands of years. Like the many that resided within Amanalar, Sha'vir was a home soul, and almost never found herself leaving beyond the borders of her homeland, in the exception of only a single occasion, when she, alone, by caravan, travelled to Mac'Aree. She was inspired by her husband and son, whom had both ventured there on their important, diplomatic mission, and found that if she were to eventually die without seeing Mac'Aree at least once, then it would not be a life much worth living. Once entering Mac'aree, she remained there for a number of weeks, contemplating the magnificence of it's architecture, technology, and culture. She spread her elaborate knowledge of philosophy to its people, alongside various stories from Amanalar. This was undeniably among the most inspirational moments Shi'var's time.

An Impenetrable Bond
The initial nine thousand years of Danarshi's lifespan was noted to have been his period of youthful freedom. Without the responsibilities of raising a family, he had formed many intimate relationships, though none of which had become a serious commitment. It was no secret that Danarshi was a member of a reasonably sized bloodline, one which included multiple age groups, each which obviously contained their own role within the family, such as grandparents, uncles/aunts, and beyond. Although the eredar were not necessarily known to value family to the extent that many other of the universe's races would, including the disuse of a family name, the eredar were still well aware of who’s blood that they shared, and respected their relatives.

Nine thousand years following his birth, a time that would forever shift Danarshi's life had, at last, come. Danarshi acquainted himself with a bright eredar woman known as: Aelleena. With only five hundred years separated these two in age, Aelleena being the younger of them, they were incredibly close in age, especially when considering the lifespan of an eredar. She had a peaceful soul, with a natural talent for artistic practices, such as sculpting and painting, with no incentive for any form of violence. Upon one particular day, during a patrol schedule on the fringes of Amanare, Danarshi stumbled upon Aelleena, who's life was put in the way of danger by feral beasts of the wilderness, no doubt due to the fact that she had brazenly ventured beyond the secure borders of the settlement, so that she could collect exotic plants that were used in the creation of certain paints. Danarshi, successfully ridding of such a threat, was greatly appreciated by Aelleena for his heroic deed, and, as such, pledged herself as forever in his debt. In truth, the two of them had already known of each other's existence, although to no surprise, as residing within a remote community such as Amanare, despite it's increasing size, had rendered it difficult not to encounter every single resident at least once; Danarshi's fame as an Amanalar Peacekeeper certainly helped in earning him recognition among his people, as well.

Following her rescue, Aelleena remained in contact with Danarshi on a regular basis. They continuously traded interests with each other, and became quickly familiarised with each other. Contact was more than simple for them, as they both fortunately resided within Amanare, able to speak almost whenever Danarshi was not off tending to his duties beyond Amanare. It was certainly not long before Danarshi and Aelleena formed a strong friendship with each other. Although their interests were not completely and utterly intertwined with one another, the two had always something to speak of that would interest the other, and plenty for them to learn from one another, this virtually being the perfect match, as some would say. The two new friends had experienced their fair share of romance throughout their years, although never before had they felt the love was actively forming between them, day after day that they spoke to one another. Neither of them had the courage to confront the other on such a matter, proving rather ironic, especially in Danarshi's case, due to the brave, burly hero that he had supposedly been. When Danarshi had finally managed to break free of his shell, it did not come without a colossal amount of nervousness on his part, although Aelleena, thankfully, met the poor, embarrassed Danarshi in a glad and joyful acceptance of his romantic request.

As Danarshi and Aelleena grew comfortable with their newly formed relationship, their love and care for each other became eternal, a sensation that neither one of them had ever come to feel before, until that time. Before a century had even struck, a joyful marriage ceremony took place, uniting the two together, with a pledge to never abandon each other's side. To the eredar people, a pledge such as this meant more than nearly anything, due to the unwavering amount of time that a couple are to remain loyal with each other, if death were not to give them a timely passing. Together, they lived in each other's company for three centuries following their loyal marriage, until the inevitable came to pass: a new addition to their young family came to be. Aelleena gave birth to their first child, a girl whom they named Irenora.

Irenora
A thousand years following the birth of Irenora, Danarshi was more than eager to offer her the tutoring required in order to become a harbinger, something that he had been eager to do since the near date of her birth. As inspired as Irenora had been by her father's heroics, most especially his presence within the legendary Amanalar Peacekeeper order, sadly, she knew well enough that her calling rested elsewhere, and not through the handling of physical weaponry, using them to cut down enemies through raw, close quarters combat. Luckily for Irenora, Danarshi was not nearly as strict as Duum'viaer, and he, despite some initial, though quiet, disappointment, happily accepted his daughter's choice, continuing to show his love for the person whom she desired to find, and become. Irenora certainly did not plan on tarrying when it came to finding her purpose, and set out to find her own destiny, barely even into her adolescence.

Irenora did not have to search for long upon discovering: arcane magic, a practice that truly sparked her inspiration above all. Truthfully, some of this influence had originated from her uncle, Mordaros, who, by this point, had become far beyond adept in his abilities as a fire mage. Irenora first discovered her undying interest in the arcane arts when exploring a series of woods that closely loomed by the village of Xzaarven. Despite the well known dangers of Amanalar's forests, Irenora, even in her youth, had always been shaping up to be a strong, confident person, and these warnings of danger were certainly not enough to keep her curiosity at bay. Fortunately for her, she had not a reason to regret her choice upon that day, when she stumbled upon a group of powerful, though peaceful mages, rather than a pack of wild beasts with a hungering for flesh. These mages had clearly wandered from Xzaarven in search of solitude. Within a neat clearing in what was coincidentally the very centre of the woods, the mages sat side by side in the formation of a neat circle, a pattern physically etched upon the ground within said circle, gleaming in arcane radiance. Impressively, the mages had noticed the presence of the curious Irenora since the very moment that she had entered the woods, their senses heightened by ten fold more than the average eredar, something that she was not aware of in her young and uneducated state, as she stalked them from a nearby series of bushes with effervesce intrigue. Approach her they did not, as they proceeded with a magical ritual, an awe inspiring sight to one who had not experienced the many marvels of magic. Irenora witnessed the entirety of the ritual, and she was stunned by the phenomenal display, one which had touched the whole of the forest clearing in an intricate, though stunning display of varying shades of light and colours, working against the very laws of physics.

Intelligent enough not to overstay her welcome, Irenora made her leave from the woods, following the magical ritual that she had bared witness to. Irenora could only dream of being able to achieve such things as what she had witnessed upon that day. Impatience ate away at her the longer that she waited, eventually pushing her to visit Xzaarven on her own accord. The warm welcome that she had received upon entering the Village of the Magus came with much initial surprise to her, until it had become obvious to her that it had truly been a crafty plot by those particular mages that she had encountered within the forest, whom had purposely performed the ritual before her, in order to bolster her interest in the subject of magic. The mages knew that there was a spark about Irenora, and with the correct training, she could become something truly remarkable. Rather than being angered by this happening, Irenora was, instead, impressed by the ingenuity of the mages. Upon that very day, Irenora was accepted into the ranks of the Xzaarven Order of Mages, proving as being one of the youngest to be admitted into the order to date. Her studies in the art of arcane magic began, and she possessed a soaring passion within her heart. As an apprentice, her path to understanding the arcane arts had officially begun.

Irenora's entry into the Xzaarven Order of Mages came as an immense surprise to her family, who hadn't even a clue of her interest in the field of magic. Fortunately for her, their negativity was nil, as they gladly pledged to give her their full support, even including her grandfather, Duum'viaer, who had already experience a happening such as this firsthand, following his second son's involvement with Xzaarven, which, despite his refusal to train as a harbinger, taught Mordaros many valuable lessons, something that even Duum'viaer could not deny. Although Mordaros accompanied Irenora within the ranks of the Xzaarven Order of Mages, he did not often affiliate himself with her directly, as his study of magic was of significant difference, meaning that there was little that he could teach that would be of any real interest to her. Despite the very essence of a mage functioning off of the use of arcane, no matter whether they specialise in fire, or frost, Irenora preferred to directly channel the arcane in it's pure form, rather than modifying it into a different element, as her uncle did. The two did, however, have many engaging debates over the two schools of magic that they pursued, often more comical than serious in nature. Mordaros could not help but be jealous that his niece had been admitted into the Xzaarven Order of Mages from such a young age, whilst he had to wait until he struck adulthood; it was clear that Irenora possessed an unseen potential.

The Burning Dawn
Once the darkest of all days had finally struck, when Sargeras and his Burning Legion began their reign of manipulation and corruption over Argus, Danarshi was convinced that these astounding offers of power that they insisted upon were beyond the comprehension of the mind, and far too grand to simply ignore, despite the numerous unknowns that showered him with some concern; he had always been an eager soul, and it was going to take more than mere concern for him not to explore this new power. Once the word of truth from the naaru: K'ure, had been personally delivered to one out of the three members of the eredar triumvirate: Prophet Velen, bestowing upon him the wisdom of the terrible truth behind Sargeras, and his plan to taint the eredar. Velen was swift to spread this information among the eredar people, attempting to persuade as many as he possibly could of Sargeras' deception. Danarshi heard this word, and immediately, began to step back. This certainly gave Danarshi his doubts, though what if Velen was wrong? His mind thought against itself over this matter, until Aelleena, who was far more concerned by this matter, saw nothing more than the malignant lies within these promises of power.

Danarshi was hard struck by this situation, though Aelleena proceeded to warn him of Sargeras with all of her heart, and fortunately for him, the eternal love of his life had a vastly greater sway over his will than these mysterious visitors could ever have hoped to. This risky offer of power would never have been worth the safety of his own family, if the Prophet Velen's message had been correct; Aelleena made Danarshi see this point. It soon became strikingly apparent to Danarshi that Aelleena was, indeed, no fool, as those who refused the Burning Legion's offers of power began to disappear without a trace, including many that Danarshi had known, particularly his own brother, Mordaros. If this was not something to be concerned of, then Danarshi did not know what was. It was only a matter of time before chaos began to break out, as Velen's co-leaders: Archimonde and Kil'jaeden, cried out in utter disgrace over his betrayal. They proceeded to order the march of all eredar who had been successfully corrupted and converted into demonic forces of the Burning Legion, and it became clear to Danarshi that for the very sake of his loved ones, he was left with no alternative choices other than to take a one way escape route from his beloved homeworld that he had sworn to protect with his life.

Velen had promised the resistance a viable escape route from the planet, with the help of the naaru, at the peak of the tallest mountain on Argus. This very concept was incomprehensible to Danarshi, though he had already run out of time to think on it: the Burning Legion had arrived within Amanalar, and the time for the final retreat had come. Danarshi, Aelleena, Irenora, Shi'var, the citizens who had managed to survive the initial onslaught of the Burning Legion, and others belonging to Danarshi's bloodline, fled from the encroaching demons, beginning their voyage for the tallest mountain on Argus. Duum'viaer, however, refused to flee his homeland, and although his family pushed at him to shift his priorities, it was of no use. Duum'viaer, followed by the entirety of the Amanalar Peacekeeper order, excluding Danarshi, made the decision to remain behind and defend Amanalar to their final, dying breaths, staging their final stand within the centre of Amanare. If Amanalar was to fall on that day, then they would fall with it. Danarshi was, surprisingly, seen as the opposite of a coward for his choice to flee, as he, alone, acted as the Amanalar Peacekeeper whom would defend the many civilians of Amanalar in their evacuation, and live to be the final voice of the order.

Following a sorrowful farewell, Danarshi led the survivors on their journey, laying eyes upon Duum'viaer's face for the very last time. This proved to be nothing short of a perilous journey with no time to be spared for rest along the way. They were luckier than most, to have lived approximately only a few dozen miles away from the mountain, increasing their chances of survival, though the risk was still prodigious. Dozens upon dozens were cut down during this perilous journey, no matter how hard Danarshi tried to protect them. Even with the combative aid of Irenora, who had become an admirable mage by this point, they stood little chance. The majority of those who continuously attacked them upon this journey became known as: man'ari. The man'ari were the eredar who were malformed by the Burning Legion's corruption. This corruption turned the skin of the man'ari into either a hellish red, or a sickly gray colour, their eyes blazing with a sinister new magic that they had never seen before: the Fel. These eredar were evidently empowered, proving a monumental challenge to ward off whenever they would strike. Irenora was not the only mage who had accompanied the survivors upon this journey, either; many of the students from Xzaarven were present, as well, whilst the majority of the teachers and elders of the Order remained behind in order to battle the Burning Legion, despite their chances of success being entirely futile. More than three quarters of the eredar population had been converted into the man'ari; there was no conceivable way that those who remained pure could win this war.

Danarshi was forced to slay many of these cretinous eredar, who he had once called his kin. Civilians who were able to hold a weapon eventually joined in on the fight, as well, when matters continued to grow more desperate. They passed through burning forests and plains beneath skies choked with smoke. Destructive creatures known as: infernals, rained down from beyond Argus' own atmosphere, as the smokey sky began to fill with hundreds of tormenting doomguards and felbats, their wings allowing them momentum within the skies. At last, the survivors of Amanalar reached the base of the colossal mountain. Waves of death had been endured by both the citizens of Amanalar and the Burning Legion in their effort to reach it; it had been no walk in the park. They began their climb up the mountain's towering altitude without a single delay. Their circumstances would only prove to grow worse, as the flying terrors of the sky circled around the mountain, eager to find their prey. Soon enough, an imposing doomguard landed behind them with thundering impact. The doomguard let out a roar as it lunged its blade forward, its sharpness impaling the poor Shi'var with ease, before throwing her over the nearest ledge. Danarshi could not believe it; he had just watched his own mother's murder in front of his very own eyes. He charged fourth, relentlessly, until only a puddle of gore remained of the doomguard; never before had Danarshi felt so satisfied by a kill. Something had snapped within Danarshi upon this moment, something that would forever mold his character into something entirely else.

As much as Danarshi yearned to halt and mourn the tragic loss of his own mother, he had no choice in the matter; he had to keep moving, for all of their sake. They pushed their way up the mountain, reaching it's peak, where only Danarshi, Aelleena, Irenora, and a few civilians present within the group had managed to reach, the bloodbath of a climb claiming the lives of far too many, including the remainder of his bloodline whom had managed to get so far. There was little that could have been done to save the fallen from their harrowing end, and it was something that would haunt Danarshi for the remainder of his days.

Fleeing Fate
Those who had managed to survive the momentously labored climb were able to experience what was among the most stunning of sights that they had ever before bared witness to: the grand arrival of K'ure, and a Dimensional Ship known as: the Genedar. This ship was their only means of escape from Argus, and without it, they would not have lasted for even an hour from where they stood. Danarshi, alongside all of those who had durably ventured across Argus in order to reach the rendezvous atop the grand mountain peak, abruptly boarded the Genedar, despite as much as no man or woman wished to abandon their own world.

As the Genedar's engines powered up, the vessel was revealed to have been fueled and piloted by K'ure himself. This had been the first moment that any eredar, save Velen, had laid eyes upon a naaru; their magnificence was enough to dawn a new age in itself. The Genedar barely managed to escape through the atmosphere of Argus intact, as it was closely trailed by the Burning Legion. Although they would outrun them through the expanses of the Great Dark Beyond, the Burning Legion would remain adamant in their search; they would not give up, until these pariah eredar were found, and utterly annihilated.

Swearing an oath that he would, some day, return to see his homeworld vanquished of the evil that had swept over it like a wave of engulfing darkness, Danarshi carved three deep scars into his left and right cheek, using a dagger to crudely carry the task out. These scars would serve as an eternal reminder of the six settlements of Amanalar: Amanare, Xzaarven, Doros, Umera, Faralihr, and Korus, they which had been lost to the Burning Legion, along with their brave and noble denizens.

As much as Danarshi wished to remain hopeful, there was not even a remote chance that Duum'viaer, or any other of the resistance fighters, could have survived the onslaught the demonic armies; their fates were sealed the moment that they pledged themselves to stand their ground and fight to the death. Danarshi joined his people on their journey throughout the cosmos, yearning for the day that he would, at last, be able to return to his rightful home and carry out his vengeance upon the Burning Legion for what they had done to his people, and their world.

The Exiled Ones
Danarshi, and his eredar brethren, all now having been officially accounted for as refugees of Argus, had officially become known as the “draenei” (“Exiled Ones”), and set out on a stupendously long journey throughout the Twisting Nether for the course of nearly twenty five thousand years. The naaru had hastily become the most respectful symbol to the draenei people, standing out as godlike beings that exemplified the virtues of salvation, hope, and even glory. The naaru had granted the draenei a gift, greater than anything that they had ever come to witness ever before in their known history: the powerful, radiant embrace of the Holy Light.

At first, Danarshi approached the Holy Light with caution, rather wary of these new and unfamiliar teachings that the naaru had offered him, even refusing against the sway of the Holy Light, for a time. Many years passed by him, and he stuck solely to maintaining his skill as a harbinger, remaining a seasoned warrior. Although he was eternally grateful for what the naaru had done for him, his family, and his people, he was strictly attached to the older traditions and cultures of Argus, meaning that it took far more time and effort for him to have been persuaded to embrace a practice as new and unfamiliar as the Light.

Kai'soran
Danarshi's twelve thousand year experience of Argus had brought him to be very closely attached to his home planet, causing him to develop a far fetched and rather twisted desire of returning there at some point in the future. His goal, following their escape aboard the Genedar, was little more than to vanquish nearly every single demon in existence, even beyond those who were guilty of killing and corrupting his people. At this point in time, Danarshi refused to cease his vindictive attitude until Argus was reclaimed for his people, even if it were to be to the death, proving his undying hatred for the Burning Legion.

During this period of immense grief, hatred, fear, and uncertainty, the slightest glimmer of hope shone over the horizon. For the draenei, no matter how long of a wait it would be, there would come a day where their lust for vengeance against the Burning Legion would be sated. Throughout these years that would test the patience of the draenei people, they were free to roam the cosmos as they wished, in search of a new world to call home.

Danarshi and Aelleena were soon to agree upon the decision of marking this monumental time in history with the birth of their second child. This child was born a boy, who they named Kai'soran. Kai'soran would be the first of Danarshi's bloodline to be born a member of the draenei people, being brought into the world only very briefly following their timely escape from Argus. The very existence of this young boy was symbolic of the transformation of the eredar to the draenei. He was to be considered a strong foundation of the Exiled Ones, one of those who came about to carve the existence of this new race. It was only certain that, regardless of who Kai'soran was to become, he would grow to stand out as a respectable individual.

The Light's Embrace
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. Aelleena was the first of her family to embrace this alien practice, as she felt as though the long awaited time to discover her true and hidden potential had finally arrived. Although she moderately continued to maintain her skill in sculpting, painting, and her several other crafts, they became little more than simple hobbies, their purposes becoming mere 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 became known as an anchorite, a Holy priest of the draenei people.

Kai'soran was, at first, weary of nearly all teachings that were presented to him, still very much in his days of youth when this began to occur. 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 inspirations of both, Kai'soran did not wish to favour sides with either of his parents, and, instead, found a means of equally pleasing them both. Following Danarshi's lessons in the art of a harbinger, Kai'soran combined its potential with Aelleena's teachings of the Holy Light. With steel and Light combined, Kai'soran became a: vindicator, and one of the very first in existence. The vindicators are a draenic class of warriors who use the Light in combination with their attacks, aiding them in striking down their foes with deadly strength and efficiency. After so boldly taking on two different skill sets simultaneously, and combining them both into a greater coexistence, Kai'soran became a highly open minded individual as he came of age. Despite his fair nature, Kai'soran was bred into exile upon the Genedar, and was taught to possess a natural hatred for the Burning Legion, and most dark magics, such as fel, since the initial days of his childhood. As a natural born draenei, he was also confident in the teachings of the naaru, accepting all of the knowledge that they bestowed upon him.

It was only a matter of time before Danarshi crumbled beneath the overwhelming sway of his wife and son, eventually feeling as though his purpose as a harbinger had gradually 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. His duty as an Amanalar Peacekeeper had become non-existent following his escape from Argus, as the order was immediately deemed as defunct, and was long forgotten. Five thousand years after the draenei had fled from their home world, Danarshi sought a path that would prove far more helpful to both himself, and the draenei people as a whole. Succeeding many restless nights of thought and contemplation, Danarshi courageously traded in his weapons and armour in exchange for a staff and robe, openly accepting the teachings that the naaru had to offer him.

Danarshi was granted nearly countless millennia to become a venerable anchorite of the Holy Light, in no short thanks to the naaru, and his wife. Using his new found abilities, he did as Aelleena had done: tending to the sick and wounded, which proved to be of far more use to his people at this time, and in the foreseeable future ahead of him. Once again, Danarshi felt appreciated by his people, something that he had no longer come to feel by standing idly about with a weapon in hand, rarely ever a single enemy in sight. The capabilities of the Holy Light became apparent to Danarshi, and he was nothing short of impressed. Consequently, the more that Danarshi excelled in the use of the Light, the more that his expertise as a harbinger began to fade away. Although he continued to find the time to maintain his harbinger skill set, he did not train in it nearly as much as he once had, and could not hope to remain as viable as he had been upon Argus. Thankfully, the moderate preservation of his skill as a harbinger proved invaluable to the maintenance of his bodily health, keeping his strength and stamina in good condition at all times. Danarshi would forever be considered a harbinger, although by no means as his primary practice.

As Danarshi, Aelleena, and Kai'soran became respectful users of the Holy Light, Irenora sought no involvement throughout the entirety of this affair, continuing her studies into the use of arcane magic. She became an incredibly venerable mage as the years flowed by her, eventually seeking further mastery, as she began to delve much further into the art of bending arcane into the elements of frost and fire, in some respects to her lost uncle, Mordaros. Through her successes in magic, Irenora had also proved to be an admirable advisor to her people, with exceptional skill in coordination and leadership.

Leanarhi
Twenty three thousand grueling years following their departure from Argus, the draenei people continued to endure as exiles on the run from their sacred enemy. Across the vast expanse of these years, the draenei stumbled upon world after world for them to colonise, each facing devastation only briefly following their arrival there, as the Burning Legion remained chillingly persistent in putting an end to their race. This endless cycle of pursuit was enough to drive some into madness, and this even began to grow evident upon Danarshi himself. Danarshi's sanity gradually decreased at a steadier rate across the years, as he, and his family, continued to endure the increasingly lowering odds of ever laying witness to their beloved homeworld again, and beginning to doubt in their ability to ever discover a means of defeating the Burning Legion. Following the eons that passed by them, Danarshi and Aelleena both began to lose reason to continue pushing onward, without losing hope, or purpose. There were only few things that they could have done to remedy this growing issue, and one of them was through the birth of a third child. Their second daughter was soon to be born, and her name was: Leanarhi.

Leanarhi's birth and very existence was a living and breathing example of the resilience of the draenei, the race that never gave up their hopes and dreams, never ceasing to continue their search of the Great Dark Beyond for a means of achieving peace and happiness. As Leanarhi came to be, the period in which she was born was much unlike that of which her older siblings had originated from, as the draenei people had become worn, seasoned, and incredibly experienced. When Leanarhi came to be of age, neither one of her parents found it fit to dictate the course of her life, unlike what they had tried to accomplish with Irenora and Kai'soran. Leanarhi grew up to be secluded, yet resilient character, one of few words or relationships. She accepted the guidance of the naaru as any draenei would, although she was not quite as open about their teachings as most had been. Placed into existence so that she may seek out her own purpose, Leanarhi did not feel as though her place belonged among the anchorites, vindicators, or even harbingers of her people; none of these practices felt satisfying to her, and she knew that what ever purpose was that was out there, waiting for her, it would be ultimately up to her, and her alone, to find it.

The Great Dark Beyond
As the Genedar continued its endless voyage among the stars of the Great Dark Beyond in exploration of the Twisting Nether, Danarshi undeniably experienced many unique and unfamiliar experiences when the draenei had halted their journey on various occasions in their search for a new home. They explored dozens of planets that were entirely alien to them, some of which represented sheer beauty, whilst others were scarcely bearable to even tread upon. Each had their own forms of life, some even with intelligent, sentient beings, not all of who were so welcoming to their draenei guests. Despite all of this, no matter what wonders a world had upon its surface, the Burning Legion was relentless; everywhere that the draenei went, the Legion followed. In consequence of this, every world that the draenei colonised simply became another target for the Burning Crusade and its path of unwavering destruction. As far back as the draenei can recall, not one of their colony worlds had ever been able to stand up against the might of the demons; they were each torn apart into near nothingness, one after the other.

Twenty four thousand years of retreat was still not enough to persuade the Burning Legion of ending their bloodthirsty pursuit of the draenei, as they continued to chase them throughout the cosmos with no foreseeable indication of ever giving up. Without much choice in the matter, the draenei remained forever on the run, almost never truly finding the opportunity to settle comfortably upon a planet for an extended period of time, until came the time when K'ure himself fell into a deep illness. Lacking the required energy to keep the Dimensional Ship functional, the Genedar was set upon a crash course with the nearest planet, soon to hardily endure its landing upon the miraculously habitable surface of this new world. This planet soon became known to the draenei as: Draenor (“Exiles' Refuge”).

Exile's Refuge
So abruptly would twenty five thousand years of searching for a new home come to an end for the draenei people. For so, so long, they drifted throughout the Great Dark Beyond, the naaru standing true as their only hope, their only salvation. Each and every planet that they had found was soon to be nothing short of ravaged by the Burning Legion and their utterly chaotic Burning Crusade. How and when would they escape such persistent devastation? As K'ure fell gravely ill, perhaps, by chance, this question was, at last, answered. Without the Genedar's core functioning correctly, the Dimensional Ship, indeed, was doomed only to crash into whatever solid body was closest to it, so which happened to be yet another, unscathed world.

The Genedar did not drift for long before hitting the soil of a land so lush, so green, a land known only as Nagrand. As rough and traumatic as the crash landing had been, almost all concern was whisked away at the seams, when the golden sunlight and delightful breeze met with the senses of the emerging draenei. As beautiful as this land appeared to the eye, the world in which it rested upon was unknown to them, and had not a name that they were aware of. Draenor, meaning "Exiles' Refuge", was the name in which the draenei bestowed upon their new world. At last, had they found their desperately sought escape from the Burning Legion? Danarshi, among others, were not so convinced of this upon taking their first steps upon Draenor's soil, yet, few of them could deny the beauty that this world seemingly basked in.

Kai'soran specifically took a shining roll in aiding with the establishment of draenei settlement within Nagrand, whilst Danarshi, Aelleena and Irenora were among the first of the draenei to venture beyond the perimeter of Nagrand, eager to discover just what it was that was awaiting them beyond the mountainous ranges bordering the rolling green hills of the peaceful land they had crashed upon, so marked their time within Nagrand as only brief, when they proceeded to bid a difficult and touching farewell to both Kai'soran, and Leanarhi, after the imperviously powerful bond that had been formed between the family members during the lengthy journey throughout the cosmos. Following their touching farewell, Danarshi, Aelleena and Irenora set off for the distant, unknown lands of Draenor, although this was certainly not the first time that they had experienced the pleasure of uncovering the secrets of a new world.

Their journey was most certainly one to be remembered, as they passed by lands of luscious jungles, barren deserts, freezing blizzards, towering spires, everlasting night, and, most significantly of all, gleaming forests of golden flora, filled with the comforting sounds of countless forms of life; the combined atmosphere of this forest gave a safe, yet grand feeling to nearly any who would wander through it. It became known as Talador, another name to have been born by the draenei. Talador was famously considered as being the very heart of Draenor, both literally, and in draenei society. Danarshi had passed through Talador more than once during his journey to discover a new land to settle down within, and it was certainly considered as being among the most visually stunning of all, both to himself, and his fellow people. It was a place that Danarshi, Aelleena and Irenora gladly came to name as their next place of residence, despite the obvious fear that from literally any moment, it could all go up into flames and reduced into nothingness, if the Burning Legion were to find them yet again. Hope was not an easy thing for them to come by, and this new land offered them as much as they were going to find; this, alone, granted them sufficient relief.

The City of the Dead
Danarshi and Aelleena, by this point in time, were considered as being near masters of the Holy Light, and were among the very first to embrace the idea of the construction of a grand structure that would serve the sole purpose of housing fallen draenei, and honouring their passing. This structure became a reality, and was named Auchindoun (“City of the Dead”). The creation of a new order known as the Auchenai came with Auchindoun's formation, the Auchenai's purpose having been to serve as the keepers of Auchindoun. Both Danarshi and Aelleena became incorporated into their ranks on the very day that this faction was formed, and so heralded their new purpose, one that would last for longer than either of them would have initially come to expect. Never again during his days within the Auchenai would Danarshi raise another blade, and Aelleena was more confident in her own abilities than she had ever been before. In this, they were both ready to face the challenges ahead, without distraction.

Truthfully, Auchindoun's purpose ran far deeper than most beyond the Auchenai's trusted would know: the mausoleum's walls were built around the very corpse of a fallen naaru known as D'ore, he who, among other naaru, were gravely injured in the crash landing of the Genedar. The severity of D'ore's injuries had forcefully crossed him over into a voided state, a process that all naaru pass into when they near death. During this state, the voided naaru absorbs nearly every soul that nears it, possessing the power to attract them towards it, so that it may absorb their very essence. This process, even if brutal, is the only known method that a naaru has available to them in order to mend themselves back into their lighter phase, and so forces them do as such, without the power to stop it. The voided naaru forever continues to absorb the souls of the dead, only able to put an end to it after it has gathered enough energy to regenerate from its darkened state, and regain its powerful connection with the Holy Light.

Safeguarding D'ore was only one activity among many that Danarshi, Aelleena and the entirety of the Auchenai were profoundly relied upon to uphold during their time within Auchindoun, and, as such, D'ore's voided state was also considered as being an incredibly deep secret to be kept exclusively among the most trusted members of the Auchenai, one that was to never be revealed to the public, as doing so could have had disastrous results. Whilst most believed that the spirits of their loved ones were approaching Auchindoun in order to find their peaceful, eternal rest, they were truly passing into their final demise, drawn and utterly absorbed by D'ore. This was, at first, rather disturbing of a concept to Danarshi, that such a noble species could pass into such a darkened state, though as the saviours of his people, his trust in the naaru was nearly unbreakable; he could remain adamant in ensuring that the naaru was to remain protected, and that its process of recovery was to never be disturbed. In the ultimate end of things, a naaru was a being of pure Light; being absorbed by one is to virtually become one with the Light, a thought that eased the tension on Danarshi and the other Auchenai.

After being forced to work among the spirits of his people on such a regular basis, Danarshi became personally involved with them in more ways than one, despite the fact that he could not physically see them. In Auchindoun, the dead were to be found around almost every corner; it was certainly not a place for the weak of heart. Over time, he began to note the peculiar rise of a new practice within the Auchenai, one that used a class of magic that was highly unexpected to him: shadow, and those who practiced this magic were most commonly referred to as "soulpriests", "soulbinders", and "death-speakers", depending on their role in communicating with the departed, which was their specialty. Although Danarshi would normally flip out in concern upon seeing such a practice being used, he was quick to learn, as were the remainder of the Auchenai, that a soulpriest was strictly expected to use their knowledge over shadow magic for the sole purpose of communicating with the spirits that were constantly passing through Auchindoun, allowing the soulpriests to aid them as necessary, so that no spirit would become lost during their search for D'ore. If such magic was to be abused in any perceivable way, then the suspect at hand could face immediate banishment, or worse. Known by the draenei at the time, shadow magic was truly only an offset of the Light, which, in turn, was likely the sole reason as to why it was accepted so openly by the Auchenai. Ideally, without shadow, the Light cannot even exist, and the draenei had come to accept this fact.

The soulpriests, and their similar practices, were more than aware of the ramifications that the mistreatment of their abilities could have upon them, which, thankfully, kept them in their place at all times, despite the fact that no soulpriest would have ever dreamed of using their abilities to cause harm to their kin, wishing only to aid them with their distinctive knowledge. Danarshi was intrigued by the emotional control of the soulpriests, surprised that the use of dark magics did not twist the draenei who were brave enough to use them. The unwavering will of the soulpriests was no doubt in thanks to their intensive training among the monks who came to be within the Auchenai, who taught them effective meditation techniques that could allow them to have a firm control over their emotions; shadow represents the darker, more negative side of a person's being, and if one is unable to control those feelings, then wielding the shadow would likely always prove traumatic to the user. Although Danarshi had strongly practiced the art of an anchorite for many thousands of years, becoming incredibly venerable in the practice, the existence of the soulpriests, soulbinders and death-speakers also convinced him to be considerably more curious in regards to external, unfamiliar practices.

As much as Danarshi was actively interested in the role that the soulpriests held within Auchindoun, it was their initiation process that convinced him to turn his interest into another direction, for the time being. Those who sought to become a soulpriest were made to consume a carefully procured potion, one that would forever grant them the ability to see the spirits of the dead. Danarshi was more than uncomfortable in perusing the possible madness that could have followed the ingestion of such a potion, and, for the time being, continued to serve the Auchenai in the fashion that he was most familiar with: as an anchorite. Danarshi had already witnessed countless deaths among his people, he certainly did not trust what toll such a potion would have upon his mind. Despite their frightful initiation, he would continue to watch the soulpriests with intrigue; he was interested to see who they would truly become in the future, and if they would remain in check. Aelleena, however, held no interest in this affair, sworn only to uphold her duty as an anchorite, forevermore.

The City of Light
Irenora specifically sought a different path to follow, rather than simply joining her parents as a keeper of the dead within the ranks of the Auchenai, something that she was not much fond of pursuing, and for good reason, as she was a mage, and her purpose at Auchindoun would have been relatively menial, compared to the many anchorites and vindicators that were present there. Upon learning about the establishment of a brand new city, its future having been rumoured as being grand in scale, said city becoming known as Shattrath ("City of Light"), Irenora wished her parents her love and good fortune only shortly after they had arrived upon the sight where Auchindoun was to be built, her departure a difficult one, as it had been with both Kai'soran, and Leanarhi, as well. Despite the temptation to remain by her parents side, she did not give in to her emotions, and proceeded to set out for this glorious new city, aiding in its very creation, and aiming to claim a new destiny among her people.

Following the completion of Shattrath City's construction, Irenora incorporated herself into the ranks of the Prophet Velen's new order, the Aldor. Although it was predominately an order that was appreciative of the naaru and their gift of the Holy Light, Irenora found it more than possible to claim her place within their ranks, and to serve a notable purpose. Though she did not show strong signs of drifting towards the influence of the naaru and their gift, she did actively manage to form a far greater level of respect and admiration for them through the priesthood of the Aldor, even beyond what her parents had convinced her upon; her arcane excellence also found far more than one use for her new found peers. Irenora had discovered her calling upon Draenor, and with this thought, she had found her comfort there.

Purpose
Leanarhi, now certainly being of age, yet without a known purpose to her life, mustered a greater courage than she had ever before managed as she set out upon her very own journey of enlightenment, wandering the lands of Draenor in search of her true calling. In embarking upon this journey, she was forced to leave her beloved brother behind, whom would continue to tend to their people within Nagrand for the time being. Her journey lasted for weeks on end as she braved the harsh weathers of Draenor's many different environments, some of which were almost entirely alien to her. She persevered with determination, until her journey brought her upon the frozen land of Frostfire Ridge, in which she explored with great effort, the sight of the white land and its towering mountains, much shaped like enormous spikes, having brought her sheer awe. Leanarhi grew foolish upon traversing extensively into the ridge, as she began to falter in supplies, and was far too lost of direction to have any immediate hope of finding her way out of the frozen land. It was only a matter of time before she was caught within the chilling embrace of a powerful blizzard, and when death began to call out her name, she was miraculously rescued by an orc male by the name of Brundak, a member of the Frostwolf clan. Brundak, despite how confused he had been about this unfamiliar creature, nursed Leanarhi back to health over the span of multiple days, and luckily for her, he had dealt with such situations dozens of times over the span of his life, the Frostfire Ridge a location infamous for claiming the lives of the unwary.

Much of Leanarhi's recovery was spent learning how to even understand Brundak in the very first place, his language typically foreign to her, as he spoke Orcish. Luckily for Brundak, the draenei were faster learners than most, and within a week, she could already speak very simple Orcish. During this time of Leanarhi's recovery, the two remained situated far from civilisation, proving as being a potentially smart precaution, as Brundak was concerned that it may not have ended well if his clan were to discover the presence of Leanarhi beneath his care. Fortunately for the two, Brundak had once forged himself a small shack that was hidden away within the tundras of Frostfire Ridge, and it offered them an immediate safe haven. Soon enough, Leanarhi had found the strength to tread back outdoors, and as much as he had urged against it, she insisted that she accompany Brundak on one of his hunting trips, something that he had told her stories of towards the end of her recovery. Brundak had already revealed himself as a gifted hunter, often tasked with tracking down and killing exotic beasts for his clan; Leanarhi was eager to see if he could back his words up with physical proof. Brundak eventually crumbled beneath her persuasion, and the two of them set out in pursuit of the icehoof clefthoof, which were found most commonly in the northern reaches of Frostfire Ridge.

Brundak demonstrated his remarkable skill with a bow, and Leanarhi was more than intrigued; he brought down an icehoof bull with ease, right in front of her very eyes. She insisted that Brundak allow her attempt hunting for herself, and he was obliged to show her the way of the bow. Even after his first official demonstration to her, Leanarhi managed to fire her very first arrow with relative ease, 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 that she had even managed to successfully fire her first arrow from the string in the first place; all the same, he let out a hearty chuckle at the embarrassed Leanarhi. For the remainder of that day, he willingly mentored her in the art of a hunter. By the end of that day, Leanarhi was already hitting the larger targets, and fortunately for her, this was still only to be the beginning of her training, and she showed much potential. Brundak initially questioned himself as to why he was lending his aid to a foreigner in such an extensive way, though he could help but feel drawn to her; it was almost as though they had a connection with each other, that fate had wished for them to meet.

After three years passed by, Leanarhi had not once left the confounds of Frostfire Ridge. She was already a near-expert with a bow, few targets quick enough to evade her accuracy. In order to conquer Brundak's level of skill, she had many years of practice before her, although it was beyond obvious that she was a gifted ranger; in fact, it was almost hard for him not to be jealous of her incredible 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, but the temptation of revealing her existence began to buckle down upon him. Soon came the time when Brundak brazenly approached the Frostwolf warlord himself, consulting with him about the presence of Leanarhi within the walls of the Frostwolf home camp, Wor'gol. It became known to the draenei that the Frostwolves were undeniably the most peaceful of the orcish clans, and the Frostwolf warlord, although disappointed in Brundak's secrecy, accepted the concept that he had befriended a member of a foreign species. Leanarhi's existence was welcomed by the Frostwolf clan, but she was, by no means, allowed near Wor'gol itself, permitted only to remain within the care of Brundak, far beyond the camp's walls.

Partially accepted by the Frostwolf clan, Leanarhi, by the persistent influence of Brundak, was eventually allowed to accompany the clan on some of their journeys to Nagrand, in pursuit of the clefthoof herds who were known to migrate beyond the borders of Frostfire Ridge when the change of seasons occurred. As lenient as the Frostwolf clan had been with Leanarhi, she was quite heavily distrusted, and almost never left the side of Brundak whilst embarking with them. Their visits to Nagrand almost always brought them to the site of Oshu'gun ("Mountain of Spirits"), which was, in fact, the remnants of the Dimensional Ship: Genedar. The Genedar was renamed by the orcs themselves, its new name having existed due to the overwhelming presence of orcish spirits there, they who became attracted to the vessel, and upon entry, were never to be seen again. The true cause of Oshu'gun's spiritual attraction was, indeed, to be blamed upon K'ure, who had remained situated within the vessel following its crash landing, his illness forcing him to absorb the souls of the fallen, much like D'ore within Auchindoun, so that he could recover into a healthier state. Many draenei knew the truth behind Oshu'gun, though none originally dared to inform the orcs of such a matter, they who revered the crystalline "mountain" as a monument of respect to their more recent fallen, and to their ancestors.

To Leanarhi, Oshu'gun, or Genedar in her personal case, was a monument baring great reminiscence of her past, and her people, serving as a reminder that never should she have forgotten that she was born draenei, and that it was they who helped raise her into the person that she had become. The trips to Nagrand regularly granted Leanarhi the chance to remain in touch with her brother, Kai'soran, who was still yet to cease spending his days overlooking the progress of draenei civilisation within Nagrand.

Initially unexpected by the two of them, after five years had passed since their initial meeting, both Leanarhi and Brundak came to develop a deep love for each other beyond their powerful sense of companionship, and friendship. Despite the overbearing fact that they would never have been permitted to declare an official marriage by the Frostwolf clan, they openly expressed their love for each other, regardless. Leanarhi "settled" herself down within Frostfire Ridge with Brundak, although the two of them certainly did not give up their thrilling hunts in both Frostfire Ridge, and Nagrand. Due to Leanarhi's racial origin, the two of them hadn't much of a choice but to permanately reside beyond the borders of Wor'gol, remaining in residence within the home that Brundak himself has built many years beforehand. As the years moved by them, they improved their homestead, increasing its general size and appearance; the structure itself was inspired by Brundak, baring an orcish theme, whilst the aesthetics were added upon it by Leanarhi, referencing a draenei theme, which made it into an interesting combination, to say the very least.

Despite their fair distance away from Wor'gol, Brundak was, by no means, considered an outcast of the clan, despite having been slightly disrespected for his decision to romantically involve himself with Leanarhi. Both Brundak and Leanarhi continued to aid the Frostwolf clan through the deliverance of food supplies gained from their hunts, in order to prove their ongoing respect and care for the clan. For decades to come, the unlikely couple would remain within each other's care, forever loyal to one another, and respectful of their differentiating origins.

The Temple of Karabor
Kai'soran had remained strictly located within Nagrand since his arrival upon Draenor, helping to preserve his people's fledgling civilisation there. When not concerned about the draenei, he often kept a watchful eye over the Genedar, and the dormant naaru, K'ure, who remained nestled inside, acting as the very soul of the Dimensional Ship, in a sense. It brought Kai'soran as much interest, as it did amusement, that the orcs had managed to transform the Genedar into such a prevalent site of near-religiousness, upon naming the crashed Dimensional Ship, as they had. Despite Kai'soran's desire to prevent the orcs from causing any form of harm to the Genedar, and most especially K'ure, fortunately for him, and his people, they treated the site with incredible peace, and respect, leaving Kai'soran without reason to disturb their practices.

Although life within most of Nagrand was both peaceful, and simple, Kai'soran could not have possibly felt further sated with this tranquility that was continuously being kept within Nagrand. Ultimately, the draenei had only lightly settled within Nagrand, their village, Telaar, proving as being one of their only locations of residence there; this was due to the foreign occupation of the region, including the south-eastern border, where the capital of the Warsong clan, Grommashar, was located. To the north-east, a sacred shrine to Draenor's elements, the Throne of the Elements, was to be found; to disturb such a site would have been considered as an inexcusable crime to both the elementals themselves, and the land's shamans. To the very north, running west towards the very ocean was land dominated by the ogre civilisation, their capital city of Highmaul having been located directly next to the sea. The draenei had no desire to risk triggering war with these forces, and so took great care in avoiding their territory, rightfully explaining their strong absence within Nagrand, when compared to other regions upon Draenor. Kai'soran had served the entirety of his purpose within Nagrand, and felt the need to move forward with his life; after hearing word of the Temple of Karabor, which had been constructed by the eastern shore of Shadowmoon Valley as a Holy temple of worship for the draenei, said to stand at a grand scale, Kai'soran, accompanied by a small group of his kin, simply had to experience this sight for themselves. With excitement, the group embarked upon a journey that took them across the span of the continent, eager to uncover a new purpose there, and live out a peaceful, stress-less life.

Kai'soran, accompanied by the strangers, travelled straight from the west of Draenor to its east, never before granted the chance to properly experience their new homeworld, until that very time. The journey had enlightened them as much as the sight of Karabor would soon prove to do, as they were able to experience brilliant marvels, such as Shattrath City, and Auchindoun, both having been places truly to behold; Kai'soran was even granted the chance to briefly summon his parents outside the halls of Auchindoun, so that he could bid them a warm greeting. Upon reaching the Temple of Karabor following several tiresome days of travel, the sight was nearly unmatched by all they had just seen. Kai'soran was bewildered by the sheer scale of the temple, the ingenuity of draenei craftsmanship certainly not faltering by any remarkable measure since their escape from Argus.

Maintaining his role as vindicator, Kai'soran proudly served as a defender of Karabor, and heavily worshipped both the Light, and the naaru within the Holy halls of Karabor's central structure for dozens of years to come. Shadowmoon Valley was no less beautiful than Karabor itself, if not even more, and Kai'soran was proud to call this land his new home during his years upon Draenor.

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
Long 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 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.

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 right, 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 making a direct approach, as the Burning Legion had done each time before, Kil'jaeden decided to take the draenei by complete and utter surprise, in a way that they would not have possibly been expecting. He managed to conjure the beginning of a storm of concern and mistrust for the draenei throughout the orcish people, following his deceitful contact with the warlord of the Shadowmoon clan, Ner'zhul, through a false vision of his deceased wife. Although this, on its own, did not have any significant impact, it virtually carved the way to the eventual event of Gul'dan's corruption of the orcs, through the use of blood of an annihilan known as Mannoroth.

This new breed of orcs, corrupted by the fel energies of the pit lord's blood, abruptly set out upon a bloodthirsty campaign that would aim to drive the draenei people to extinction, a campaign led by Gul'dan, he who had become a pawn to Kil'jaeden's will, exercising his every wish beneath the promise of further power for the greedy orc warlock. Leanarhi, at the dawn of this tragic age in history, was unexpectedly caught by a large group of these marauding orcs during a perilous hunting expedition, which led her to the top of a towering cliff within Frostfire Ridge. These orcs came as only a surprise to Leanarhi, as almost immediately, she knew that these were not members of the Frostwolf clan, their garments entirely different to what she had grown used to. They bared a torn and blood soaked banner of the Warsong clan, each and every one of them with skin as green as poisonous acid. These orcs had approached Leanarhi by no friendly means, and within moments, proceeded to attack her with all of their savageness. Leanarhi was certainly at a disadvantage here, with no desire to battle with orcs. With all of the skill and ingenuity that she could muster, Leanarhi fought against her own will, and battled off these terrifying aggressors, managing to kill quite a large number of the attackers, despite their surprising ferocity and resilience.

Even despite Leanarhi's greatest efforts at repelling the Warsong invaders, it did not prove sufficient enough against the overwhelming number of orcs that were being thrown at her, only continuing to push closer and closer towards her, some of them even mounted upon wolves, which sped the process up by multiple seconds. No huntress could fire fast enough to repel such a ridiculous attack, Leanarhi trapped by the edge of the cliff that she had been pushed to. Briefly afterwards, Leanarhi was completely overwhelmed by the Warsong aggressors, leaving her with only two more options; to die by the sword of a Warsong, or to plummet to her own death. She did not know what malformation had corrupted these orcs, nor did she know why they had dared tread over the borders of the Frostfire Ridge in such a warmongering fashion, though she knew all too well that she was nothing more than game for them to kill on their way to a larger target: the Frostwolf clan, who's warlord, Durotan, had refused to have his clan succumb to the fel corruption, bravery that was rare during this time, and for good reason. For this reason, the near entirety of the orcish race were now out for the clan's blood, and anything in their way would be obliterated, without question.

For Leanarhi now, there was no time to think, and only enough time to act; she would not dare offer the Warsong a chance to spit into her face and be responsible for taking her life, only for them to continue fourth upon some of her most trusted allies. Upon raising both of her arms to her sides, much like a bird, her bow still in hand, she simply allowed herself to fall backwards, barely a second to spare, as the marauding orcs stomped upon the very spot that she fell from. 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, welcoming heart, had become among the first of the victims to the rising orc war machine, despite her incredible isolation from her own people, something which still could not save her. Danarshi's youngest child was the first of his family to have their life claimed by the coming genocide, proving only as a sign of the sheer darkness that was to follow. If Argus was not the dawn of darkness for the draenei, then this most certainly was.

Auchindoun Down
The passing of Leanarhi marked only as the beginning of the orcish onslaught of Draenor, which became evident in only a matter of days, as already, the rising conflict had found its way to Auchindoun, there where both Aelleena, and Danarshi, continued to reside, unknowing of the approaching wave of destruction. These belligerent attackers were but another orcish clan to have consumed the blood of Mannoroth, tainting them, just as the Warsong clan, among most others, had been. The invaders stormed the City of the Dead with roaring battle cries of searing, unfathomable rage; they were the Bleeding Hollow clan, led by the notorious Kilrogg Deadeye. The assault was as brutal as it was relentless, many of the draenei present at Auchindoun having faced death in only a short amount of time, despite their greatest efforts in swiftly preparing for such an unanticipated assault; the Auchenai were simply far too unprepared for an attack of such scale, and their losses were only continuing to pile up on a devastating level.

Danarshi was forced into a difficult position, having lost a fair amount of his skill in the art of melee combat, something that he had once specialised in; he was to either pick up arms and risk his abilities as a harbinger head on, or to potentially abuse his knowledge over the shadow by inflicting crippling plain upon the orcish invaders. As tempting as it had been, Danarshi had never before used the shadow in order to inflict pain, and in result of these pressing issues, he was far too unconfident to risk fighting with either the shadow, or close quarters combat. A third option struck upon Danarshi: the Light, a force that had proven itself to reckoned with, although as an avid healer with the practice, rather than a killer, a role that was better suited upon the shoulders of a vindicator, he trusted its effectiveness even less than he did with a weapon, and the shadow, which was not very much.

The Bleeding Hollow orcs pushed relentlessly into the desperate, inferior forces that the Auchenai had quickly set up. Although this attempt of retaliation bought the survivors precious time, it was only very limited, and Auchindoun was excessively quick to endure heavy structural damage, met only with a rising number of draenei casualties. Auchindoun was, indeed, coated in an impenetrable force field, although such a shield was only effective upon its exterior; the Bleeding Hollow's army had managed to pass through Auchindoun's doors and into its halls, allowing them to damage it from the very inside, and eventually destroy the large crystals that powered the structure's shielding. By this point in time, the battle had already been lost for the Auchenai, and this was painfully evident to all still present upon the battlefield.

The distraction that the Auchenai were providing would only last for so long, and, as such, Danarshi, frightened of joining the dead whom he had worked with for nearly three centuries, gave himself a choice that he knew could further break his being, though it was a choice that determined life, or death for him: he was to either escape alone for Shattrath City while the Bleeding Hollow was distracted, ensuring his survival, or to heavily risk his demise by finding Aelleena and bringing her with him; Danarshi knew exactly where his bond mate was situated, and it was between him, and a small army of savage orcs. As much as Danarshi had come to treasure the Auchenai as his kin, he knew that their defeat was futile, and that he had to make his escape.

Although his heart bled with guilt, his relationship with Aelleena had undoubtedly fallen in the recent years before him, and, because of this, he ultimately decided to turn his back on her, leaving her to what was to become her likely doom within the thicket of the battle, as she actively aided the wounded Auchenai. Danarshi made immediate haste for the north-west, where Shattrath awaited him. His mind was clouded beyond belief following his sickeningly immoral choice, although it would not be until later that he would truly suffer from what he had done, after he was given the sufficient time to fully contemplate the action he had made. Danarshi had survived the downfall of Auchindoun, and awaited to see if the betrayal of his wife proved heavier than his own life.

False Hope
After spending centuries residing upon the site of Auchindoun, Danarshi was familiar with the general layout of Talador, even if it was on only a basic level, compared to some others; the knowledge that he had possessed during his numerous caravan journeys between the various settlements gave him multiple routes to follow, which, even then, could have proven dangerous to his health, considering that there was an invasion taking place. Alas, he wandered through the gleaming forests, the sound of clashing steel sounding behind him, disturbing the usual peace of the forest. Danarshi found himself quite fortunate to have run into a very minimal, if any, amount of trouble during his lone journey to Shattrath.

After an hour of restless wandering, where had finally begun to feel the price of his actions weighing down upon him, painfully experiencing the guilt of leaving the former love of his life to the mercy of the marauding orcs, at last, he reached the outskirts of Shattrath City. Knowing of Irenora's presence within the city, he knew where he was to go, and so, he ventured beyond the city's walls, the sight set before him grand at scale, almost serving him a direct reminder of the famous city Mac'Aree, the former capital of Argus, a place that he had ventured to only once himself, though it was a privilege to be remembered by Danarshi for the remainder of time, the city being cherished by the entire draenei people to even that very day.

Shattrath served as a powerful symbol of hope for the draenei people, that peace and prosperity was still possible to achieve by them, not to mention that Draenor itself was viewed by many of the draenei to have been that very world in which they had been so tirelessly searching for. Unfortunately, Danarshi knew all too well that this sign of hope was nothing 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, and following the attack of the Bleeding Hollow clan at Auchindoun, he would not allow this illusion to twist at his own will and common sense. Danarshi knew that it was only right to be prepared for the worst, no matter how peaceful life may have seemed, and Danarshi knew that the very worst may have been marching on their doorstep at that very moment.

The search for Danarshi's daughter hastily led him to the Aldor Rise, the home terrace of the Aldor, nestled high up within the mountains that rested directly beside Shattrath City, forever watching down over the glorious city. Danarshi's search was not a difficult one, and the following reunion of Irenora and her father was heartwarming, as much as it was tense, considering that Danarshi, psychologically speaking, was certainly not the man that he had once had been before, added with the state of trauma that he was caught in, due to his timely and costly escape from Auchindoun. Irenora was devastated by the news of Auchindoun and Aelleena, and openly allowed her father sanctuary upon the Aldor Rise, Danarshi relieved, at the time, to have not been caught out by his daughter for the selfish and cowardly betrayal of his bond mate.

Danarshi proceeded to question Irenora on the whereabouts of his two other children, Kai'soran and Leanarhi, though only Kai'soran's location was known to her, still stationed at the Temple of Karabor, known to be alive and well. Both the fate of Leanarhi, and where she had gone for the past several years, was entirely unknown to virtually any member of the draenei race, and due to the unfortunate course of history's events, it was at risk of remaining a mystery, one to never be solved. Although Danarshi forced himself to believe that Leanarhi had managed to survive the sudden orcish invasion, and remain hidden out within the world, Danarshi would eventually be forced to accept the fact that it was beyond a mere possibility that his daughter had been killed, and he would more often assume her death, rather than her survival.

Irenora was a woman with a notably powerful will, having a near mastery at shrouding her true emotions, baring a very strong and proud character. Her bond with Aelleena had been exceedingly strong, even more powerful than it had ever been with that of her father. Danarshi could actively tell how badly his daughter was aching over the situation with Aelleena, when her emotions of grief and worry had almost managed to consume her on multiple occasions, causing her to act with greater anxiousness than he had ever bared witness from her; when alone, at times, she would even lose complete and utter control over herself, breaking down into tears, occasionally even within her father's arms, judging if he was there for her to lean on, which certainly did not help keep his own emotions in check, to any degree.

When word of the orcish corruption had begun spreading among the people of Shattrath, the very atmosphere of the city was swallowed in negativity; to Danarshi, it felt as though the influence of the shadow was strong there, pushing down upon its people like an invisible, yet, solid cloud. Danarshi felt no different than he already had when arriving at Shattrath, accepting the fact that the orcs would soon march upon the draenei capital city. Auchindoun's destruction was more than a mere warning, it was a signal for war, and with an army as large as the orcs posed, it was arguable if Shattrath's defences would even be enough to repel them.

The Siege of Karabor
Following the destruction Auchindoun, soon came the devastating fall of Karabor, Kai'soran present on the day the orcish armies came brutally charging into the temple itself, and its surrounding area, slaughtering all draenei that they could find, sparing them no remorse or mercy. The eyes of the orcs burned red in searing rage and hate, as though they had been placed beneath a trance, forcing them into a haze of mindless violence, aggression, and a thirst for blood. Their skin ran green, defiant of the natural orcish anatomy, clearly fighting beneath an influence that was not their own. Kai'soran had heard word of the orcish outbreak prior to the attack on Karabor, though had foolishly refused to believe such a rumour to be true, up until the moment of this attack.

Battling with tooth and nail, Kai'soran knew that the sacred temple would not stand a chance against such a vicious army of attackers; any defensive strategy became hopeless, and escape was the only means of survival. Relocating with four of his fellow vindicators, made up of three males and a single female, the five of them, united, recovered as many children, women, and unarmed, innocent men as they could. Having rounded up a sizable group of draenei refugees, Kai'soran, the vindicators, and the innocents, made haste from Karabor, before the orcs had yet seized the opportunity to block all exits. It was not quite so simple, as the five vindicators did not manage to escape without a fight, forced to take the lives of numerous orcs, for the safety of both themselves, and the refugees.

The five vindicators pummelled the orcs with the Holy Light, as they struck against them with their glorious weaponry, Kai'soran having carved through their bodies with his two-handed sword. Their escape was successful, though not without its losses, as a few of the refugees, and even one of the male vindicators, he who was the youngest and most inexperienced of the five, was killed during their timely escape, Kai'soran unable to avoid feeling the guilt of innocent blood being laid out upon his hands; it had been the duty of him, and the other vindicators, to ensure the safety of the refugees during their escape, and in that, they had failed a number of them.

Kai'soran, being the most experienced out of the remaining vindicators, declared himself as the leader of the group, and proceeded to guide them 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 movements and settlements. Knowing that Shadowmoon Valley would remain a safe haven for a only a brief period of time, before becoming far too overwhelmed by the orcs to ensure survival for any member of the draenei race, Kai'soran knew it best not to take their chances at remaining in such a land for a prolonged period of time. He, and his group, decisively journeyed towards Talador, seeking out the City of the Dead, Auchindoun; Kai'soran feared for the lives of his parents there, now believing the word of Auchindoun's fall as truth. If, by some chance, Danarshi and Aelleena were still alive at Auchindoun, Kai'soran needed to know, and he had to bring them to safety, before they joined those who he had already seen perish.

The Fall
During the long and perilous journey of Kai'soran and the refugees, 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 this 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 orc army. He began to feel himself fall into a state of utter shock, as he watched his people hopelessly set up their defence against the vastly superior invaders.

Irenora was quick to appear by her father's side, urging him to find safety within the Shrine of Unending Light. 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 reminded him sorely of the Burning Legion, the countless lives that they had taken, and the destruction that they had wrought upon his people's civilisation over countless generations. The fact that Danarshi noted a resemblance of the Burning Legion within the orcish invaders was pure irony, as it had truly been the fault of the Burning Legion for the corruption of the orcish race, a fact that he, at the immediate time, had been unaware of; in reflection of this, he 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 mind, she could not have possibly hoped to snap such sense into the man.

Danarshi joined up with the forces of the Aldor, Irenora directly by his side on their march into battle. With the fury that coursed through his veins, he 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. This time, Danarshi was no longer afraid, as he primed the luminous energies of the Holy Light within the palms of his hands. This time, Danarshi was prepared to fight, and he would not dare make the same mistake that he had made at Auchindoun. With the blessing of the naaru surging through the veins of he and his kin, Danarshi, and those that he marched with, charged for the orcish hordes, upon a bridge that crossed a lake inside of Shattrath; the bridge was connected to a central island, said island containing three other bridges; two of these bridges, the eastern and the northern, were crucial to the defence of the inner city, and Danarshi was stationed upon the eastern; if the orcs were able to cross 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, balls of exploding flame bombarded the city, soon to shroud the skies with the thick smoke of burning structures. The clash upon the bridge was brutal, the sound of blades meeting with shield and flesh being heard clearly by the draenei combatants, as multiple screams of agony followed. Although he was practically consumed by rage, Danarshi was not quite foolish enough to place himself at the front of the draenei force, at least not yet; he remained within the protection of those in front of him, as did Irenora, Danarshi keeping his grasp over his weapon firm, in the possibility that he would, eventually, have to swing it. Danarshi smote the orcs with hostility, the amount of pain and suffering that the Holy Light caused, alone, came as a mighty surprise to him, after having only ever used the gift to mend to the wounds of the injured, or to act as a guide for lost spirits, and very little else. A haze of hatred sunk over Danarshi, and it could easily be seen, as a sinister grin spread across his face, his mind relishing in the agony of his opponents; this fight was not about honour to him, but about butchering the enemy as painfully as possible, and it was a twisted outlook that resembled his fading sanity.

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. They relented against the charging orcs for nearly five minutes straight, 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 healing potential becoming dire. Unfortunately, Danarshi was the only soul present upon the bridge who truly knew how to tend to the wounds of the injured. Following such a relentless burst of utter violence over the course of several minutes, he began to feel his energy deplete, as his abilities weakened following each spell that he casted. Irenora repetitively yelled at her father with desperation, in a frenzied attempt to have him focus his abilities on the healing of their wounded.

It was not easy, yet, eventually, Danarshi returned to his senses, knowing 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 truly began to extinguish, and 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 she spoke, as her grip tightly snatched on to the bulky arm of Danarshi, forcing him to his hooves. He pulled, thrashed, and resisted weakly against his daughter at the sight of the unstable portal set out before them, an expression of utter terror washing over his face; what did his daughter think she was doing?! Danarshi's eyes met with Irenora, noticing the tears that now ran down her cheeks. “Always know that I loved you.” Irenora spoke to him in a tremulous tone.

It had suddenly become obvious to Danarshi; his own daughter was willing to sacrifice her very life for his survival. "No... Please..." Danarshi begged in an equally quivering tone, his eyes watering up in an instant, unwilling to watch his daughter perish in favour of his life; he was too physically drained to resist, and his heart felt drenched in sudden misery. Irenora wrapped her arms around him, issuing him a tight, final hug, death and destruction resounding in every direction surrounding 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, entirely speechless. The portal immediately closed 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 whom were standing upon the bridge, she bellowed out in rage, vanquishing dozens of the charging orcs with all of the magic that her mana could muster, corpses sent flying over the edge of the bridge and into the water in droves. It was a massacre, the slaughter unabating, until the arcane energy that had once coursed through her fingers, lessened to little more than sparks of magic; 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, as 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 draenei had any chance of escape from the collapsing city. Those of the defence who remained standing had sacrificed themselves for the sole purpose of buying their citizens more time to escape, 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 whom endlessly poured into the districts, gradually murdering 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 Centre complex, fell.



Shattrath City was lost.

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, and this was quick to alert him. Dazed and confused, he had begun to choke on the salty water, frantically flailing his arms and legs in desperation to reach the surface, the weight of his gear proving to have been a large burden on his ability to do so.

Danarshi had, perhaps, been at the very embrace of death, only barely managing to meet with the surface of the water, as he spluttered and gagged away, whilst making his way for land. 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, fire and smoke ascending from its crumbling buildings, the sound of warfare faintly reaching 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.

Kai'soran, his four, fellow vindicators, and the group of surviving refugees made great progress on their journey to Auchindoun, as the fabled City of the Dead soon fell into their view; it was this very moment that brought a sheer feeling of shock and distraught into the minds of Kai'soran, the vindicators and the refugees, this having clearly shown upon their faces, as Auchindoun laid before them in near-ruins, clearly the site of a recent battle. It was not required of them to stray closely to the temple, as it had become painstakingly obvious that such an assault was laid out by the hands of the orcish hordes, many of these attackers still present within the area at that exact time. Kai'soran was unwilling to risk the lives of both himself, and those whom he traveled with, for only the slimmest chance of finding his parents in a living state. He fell to his knees on the very spot that he stood, chanting a prayer of hope for the sake of not only the survival of Danarshi and Aelleena, though all other surviving draenei who had already been sucked into the orcish war machine, and those who were soon to join them.

Although his prayer had been aimed specifically at the naaru, it became unknown if such a prayer managed to reach them; without his prayer being answered, he was left to assume that such a prayer did not manage to reach them. Accepting the hopelessness of approaching Auchindoun any further, Kai'soran and the refugees continued their voyage towards the west, each of them carrying a glimmer of hope that Shattrath City still stood tall and proud, unscathed by the newly erupted war. Typically, their hope was further crushed only later that very day, as they bared witness to the smouldering remains of the City of Light. Kai'soran was heartbroken by the sight, forced to accept the overwhelming possibility that Irenora, Danarshi and Aelleena had all, by that time, met their gruesome ends. From this moment fourth, Kai'soran would be as lost as that of Danarshi, forced to continue wandering the war-torn lands of Draenor, in hopes of remaining hidden from the raging war. Kai'soran, being the most experienced out of his group, and wishing for their survival, had little choice but to continue acting as their guide and leader throughout the conflict; despite how hard he would try, people were going to die; there was no means of preventing such a tragedy.

Danarshi had been overwhelmingly 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 could; 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 further areas surrounding him, specifically the land bordering between Talador, Gorgrond, and Frostfire Ridge, in search of survivors, food, and fresh water. Arguably, as an extremely avid user 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, as 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, who would occasionally track them down and attack them. Danarshi, although an admirable combatant, especially proved himself as being a valuable healer to those who were wounded in battles, or the few who were unfortunate enough to fall ill with sickness. Unfortunately, Danarshi had never gained the chance to remain within the groups 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 of survivors would simply destroy themselves from the inside, fighting over the scarce supplies of food, arguing on plans of travel, and, overall, losing their sanity from the lack of morale they that carried. 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 of survivors, Danarshi spent much of his time ensuring the survival of said group, keeping himself thoroughly busy, in order to divert his mind 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 incredibly dangerous territories, such as central Talador, and further into Gorgrond, in order to retrieve food, when certain areas surrounding the eastern Zangar Sea had gradually begun to cease delivering enough on their own. Much of the aquatic life present within the sea itself had proved difficult to catch, or unsafe to eat, due to the presence of poisonous spores, 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 tremendous loss, though a time of bountiful gain, for the skills of survival he had begun to master would carry with him for many years to come. Prior to this time, Danarshi had rarely ever been involved with oceanic environments, meaning that his experiences around the Zangar Sea taught him what was required to scour the deep waters in order to fish up impressive catches, despite the tremendous difficulty that came alongside it; Danarshi did not learn these skills quickly, although with the knowledge of raft construction, and the effective usage of nets and harpoons, his expertise gradually grew more impressive as time flowed by him. His knowledge of herbalism and skinning, even if basic, served Danarshi well during these times of vigorous struggle, although never did he truly excel at these professions.

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 would construct a seaworthy raft, if he did not have one already in possession; he would then courageously sail out towards the west, approaching the northern coast of Nagrand, setting up 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 he 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 safe from the danger of having to face the towering spore-infested creatures that roamed the coasts of northern Nagrand.

Devastation
Upon one unsuspecting day, Danarshi, and all other life present upon Draenor, were forced to bare terrifying witness to the horrific destruction of this beautiful and forbidden world, following the construction of a colossal dimensional portal within Tanaan Jungle, that which became known as the Dark Portal, its completion having secretly occurred only a brief amount of time before the fall of Shattrath City. The orcs used the Dark Portal in order to lay siege upon the world of Azeroth, in a rapacious lust of claiming it for themselves, this war becoming known as the First War. The First War was notably a soaring success on the behalf of the orcs, although their victory was only short lived, as, approximately six years following their victory, the newly formed Alliance of Lordaeron rose up and conquered the orcish invaders, in what became known as the Second War.

The Alliance of Lordaeron, two years later, following both the defeat of the orcs on Azeroth, and a failed attempt to destroy the Dark Portal, which was revealed as being virtually impenetrable, proceeded to storm Draenor, wreaking havoc upon the orcish armies that were still stationed there. In response to the impending defeat of the orcs, Ner'zhul himself had rapidly begun to open dozens of new dimensional portals across the entirety of the orcish continent upon Draenor, in a desperate search for yet another world that could fall victim to their raging armies, as Draenor itself had become a land far too ravaged by war to be considered a land safe to inhabit.

War had even begun to break out among the orcs themselves, when Kil'jaeden and the Burning Legion had abandoned them to their unknown fate, following the defeat of the draenei at Shattrath City, leaving the orcs without any true purpose, and slowly carving away at their morale. In response to the sheer amount of unstable energy generated by the vast number of Ner'zhul's dimensional portals being active at a single given time, the entirety of Draenor was violently torn to shreds.

Danarshi, situated upon the eastern coast of the Zangar Sea, watched on in sheer horror as the sky itself burst into flames, the ground trembling with the force of a titan's thundering fist. Mountains fell and rose in every foreseeable direction, occurring across the entirety of the continent. The water that once filled the Zangar Sea slowly drained away into the vast expanses of the Great Dark Beyond, in front of Danarshi's very own eyes; the continent in which he stood upon was all that was left behind by the shattering chaos. The ravaged, obliterated world that remained was soon to become well recognised as Outland, forevermore serving as a reminder of the power that the Burning Legion was truly capable of wielding, both with, and without the use of their 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 endlessly drift around the coasts of the Zangar Sea, and he was eager to discover what was to be found within this newly-formed marshland. Danarshi ventured into the thicket of Zangarmarsh, met with the appalling sight of countless forms of aquatic life, as each of them, save those whom were capable of roaming the surface lands, were suffocated and left for death from their exposure to the air that would never cease to spill into their gills.

Danarshi pressed through the bizarre marshes of Zangarmarsh, such an environment relatively foreign to him, despite the coasts of near-identical appearance in which he had recently been roaming; never before had he been surrounded by so many towering mushrooms. Alas, Danarshi was soon to stumble upon an intact draenei anchorage by the name of Telredor, an ingenious piece of architecture, one that was featured atop what was, undeniably, among the tallest of the region's mountainous mushrooms. A technologically advanced elevator granted passage into Telredor, leading from the ground and up beside the settlement itself. Teldredor was rumoured to have served as a retreat for draenei anchorites and spiritualists for centuries on end, something that Danarshi, personally, found difficult to believe, due to the prominent lack of its existence prior to the draining of the Zangar Sea.

Nonetheless, despite his doubts, Danarshi, upon his initial arrival at Telredor, was greeted by the residing draenei with a substantial level of respect and admiration, due to the venerable skill at wielding the Holy Light in which he portrayed. Danarshi was accepted into the welcoming arms of Telredor's residents, and, among all of the chaos that was occurring around Draenor, he could not imagine a more secure refuge, at least for the time being; Danarshi figured that it was only a matter of time before the orcish war machine spilled into Zangarmarsh, in search of what was left of his dying race. Although the peace at Teldredor had, in fact, been well-kept during the first few days following Danarshi's arrival, dozens, perhaps hundreds of draenei survivors, soon flocked to the safety of the sky-high refuge in droves, hastily transforming the once-peaceful village into a congested, uncomfortable location. The arrival of the refugees was solid proof to Danarshi that he had clearly been only one among hundreds who had dwelled around the coasts of the Zangar Sea throughout the period of the orcish genocide, also proving as a fair reason behind the various groups of survivors whom he had encountered during his recent past.

Exodus
In reflection of the influx of refugees whom arrived at Telredor, Danarshi had decisively spent the majority of his time living off the land of Zangarmarsh in seclusion, often setting up camp within its abnormal wilderness, venturing to Telredor only when it was deemed as necessary to him. At this point in time, silence and tranquility was a precious commodity to him, one that had grown impossible to find within Telredor itself; he could not physically bring himself to forget how crucial it was to keep his mind occupied at all times, in effort of keeping his lingering thoughts of hate and despair at bay. The time that Danarshi spent within Zangarmarsh proved relatively peaceful for him, only very rarely running into trouble with the orcish warbands who had regularly begun to tread upon the land, or the occasional, surviving wildlife, most of which had grown incredibly viscous in consequence of the rapid change in their environment.

Danarshi was soon to have his attention caught by a peculiar happening, as many of the Telredor refugees had suddenly begun leaving the refuge in large numbers, their destination unknown to him at the immediate time. Out of sheer curiosity, mixed with excitement, yet, concern, Danarshi entered the refuge in search of answers. There, at Telredor, he had discovered that the Prophet Velen himself had reached out in a call to the draenei, just as he had upon Argus so many millennia ago; the time for retreat from Outland had come. Danarshi was shocked by this news, as he had quite heavily predicted an inescapable doom for the draenei people upon this shattered world. Although this glimpse of hope placed a rare smile across his face, Danarshi refused to join his people in their escape; he had come to call this world home after such centuries spent upon its surface, and, despite the genocide committed by the orcs, he was not willing to let Draenor go as easily as he had for countless other worlds. At last, he had found the time within his life where he could take the fight to those who would seek to inflict harm upon him and his people, rather than running from the face of danger out of sheer cowardice.

Although Draenor had remained quite vastly unknown to Danarshi during his time there, the sheer thought of abandoning yet another home urged him to make a powerful choice on that very day: he would remain behind, in order to fight for what remained of Draenor, whilst the majority of his people made their way for Netherstorm (the remnants of Farahlon) with plans to rally at an enormous Dimensional Ship known as the Tempest Keep, a vessel which had been sent to Outland by the naaru, with the primary purpose of aiding both the draenei survivors, and the dying world. Surrounding the Tempest Keep were three smaller, satellite Dimensional Ships that included: the Arcatraz, a vessel designed to imprison the most dangerous and terrifying of creatures encountered by the naaru throughout their travels; the Botanica, a vessel designed to experiment upon various types of fauna and flora; the Exodar, a vessel fit primarily to hold civilian life. When the Tempest Keep fleet had arrived upon Outland, the majority of the accompanying naaru dispersed out into the collapsed world, in hope that they could help to heal this broken planet. Due to the departure of these particular naaru, the Tempest Keep was left exposed, Kael'thas Sunstrider and his sin'dorei forces seizing this opportunity and striking at the Dimensional Ships.

Although the blood elves were successful in capturing the Arcatraz, the Botanica and the Tempest Keep itself, the draenei were fortunate enough to have beat them in their race to the Exodar. A brief battle was fought upon this vessel, and the draenei were thought to be victorious, allowing them a swift retreat from Draenor aboard the Dimensional Ship. Unknown to the draenei during the moment of their escape, few of the sin'dorei forces had managed to sneak aboard the Exodar, despite their defeat in battle. The surviving blood elves aboard the Exodar had successfully evaded the draenei for a time, allowing them to sabotage the vessel, causing it to veer out of control and eventually crash into the world of Azeroth. Whilst the draenei endured the crash, setting out to colonise the isles in which they had landed upon, whilst dealing with the remaining blood elves whom were responsible for their crash-landing, Danarshi, and all other willing draenei, remained behind on Outland, their pride held closely to their hearts.

Tenebrous
Danarshi enjoyed only a brief period of peace within the refuge of Telredor, the departure of the majority of the refugees having left him with far more space to live within; despite this, he had almost immediately begun considering multiple plans of action to pursue from that moment forward, by no means planning to remain within the supposed safety of Zangarmarsh for a lengthy period of time. Although, by that time, much of Draenor was destroyed, it had been rumoured to Danarshi that much of the land in which the draenei had been living upon remained intact, following the devastation caused by the opening of the dimensional portals. Danarshi had managed to salvage a bizarre, yet, frightening map of the continent, the paper littered with various burns, blood-stains and tears. The Frostfire Ridge and Spires of Arak portions of Draenor had been eerily torn straight from their places, as though they had ceased to have ever existed, whilst Farahlon was heavily coated in draenic blood; had the owner of this map known about the fate of these regions? The coincidence was enormous, though, at that moment in time, Danarshi had not truly known the state that the entirety of Draenor was in, and the missing segments of the map did not prove sufficient enough to convince him of its fate.

Danarshi's darting finger was quick to land atop Auchindoun, instantaneously grasping at his attention, his eyes having met with such a sight for multiple seconds straight, the memory of the siege that had befell upon the City of the Dead flashing before him, like a haunting vision. Shortly following such a vision, the face of his former bond mate, Aelleena, welded itself within his mind. By the time Danarshi had pulled his attention away from his thoughts, he realised that the map had been tightly scrunched within his clenching fist, caused by the anger and sorrow that had coursed through his veins at pace, and without his immediate awareness. At that very moment, Danarshi had, at last, swallowed his fears and accepted the fact that the time to investigate the status of Aelleena, and the Auchenai, had, at last, come. Acquiring a crude backpack and filling it with as much survival gear as he could possibly carry, 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 whom had retreated into the sickly woodland.

As a precaution for his own mental health, Danarshi took great stride to avoid the ruins of Shattrath City, as gazing upon such a sight would have no doubt forced terrible visions upon his mind, something that he certainly did not wish 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, forcing Danarshi to defend himself against the frothing jaws of such a beast, in which he was, fortunately, successful. It became apparent to him that the surviving wildlife had naturally evolved to be far more aggressive over the course of this violent period of time, and those whom were absent during Danarshi's journey to Auchindoun had undeniably hidden themselves away for the time being, terrified of what has befallen upon their homeland. It was clear that the humanoid beings on Draenor had certainly not been the only forms of life impacted by the chaos.

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, in the end, a relatively quick one. Although the Bleeding Hollow clan had laid waste to Auchindoun, expelling the Auchenai from its grounds, the Alliance forces of Azeroth whom had spilled into Outland via the Dark Portal, led by both Turalyon, and Danath Trollbane, had since managed to expel the Bleeding Hollow invaders from Auchindoun. Despite Kilrogg Deadeye and his clan being driven away from the City of the Dead, something far greater and more sinister had already managed to bore its way into the once-holy ground: the Shadow Council, a demonic clan, forged by the sinister Gul'dan himself. The beautiful land that Auchindoun once rested upon had tragically become a grey, scorched, bone-ridden wasteland, caused by the summoning of Murmur, the primordial essence of sound itself, by the hands of the Shadow Council. The summoning of such a powerful creature was followed by an enormous explosion, one that obliterated much of what remained of both Auchindoun's interior, and exterior, including all of the earth that surrounded the temple. Although Danarshi had not personally witnessed the destruction caused by the summoning of Murmur, the sheer sight of the temple remnants and the land surrounding it proved to be sufficient enough alone to send mighty chills down his spine; to see his former home in such a state ate away at the fragility of his emotions, it nearly sunk his heart to an all-time low, as his hope for the survival of Aelleena, and the Auchenai, had begun to plummet.

Danarshi wandered across the scorched land surrounding Auchindoun, this wasteland having become known as the Bone Wastes, undoubtedly due to the several thousands of bones that were scattered throughout the grey, lifeless wasteland. Although 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 become so strongly in touch with the spirits of the fallen, could, with ease, feel an incredibly powerful presence throughout the area, one that increased in intensity the closer that he moved towards Auchindoun itself. This was a feeling that had become well known to him; the spirits of the dead were plentiful, both inside, and outside of the temple itself, however, they were lost, tormented, floating about the Bone Wastes, wailing and weeping. Without the aid of the Auchenai, the spirits of the dead surrounding Auchindoun had lost the guidance that was often necessary in their search to find D'ore. The skies resting above Auchindoun had become permanently choked with clouds, an unholy essence consuming their appearance; within the very centre of the gathered clouds, effectively resting above the City of the Dead itself, an insidious vortex endlessly span, comparable to the skies that could be found within the spirit realm itself, a sight that had often been described by the Auchenai deathspeakers, who's vision allowed them to view directly into the realm of spirits at all times. The ghostly sky was solid evidence that Auchindoun had become so incredibly haunted that it was enough to tear into the very fabric of the spirit realm itself, and this concept, alone, was more than enough to horrify Danarshi.

The Dead Speak to Those Who Listen
The Shadow Council was not the only threat that had burrowed its way into the shattered halls of Auchindoun, as various arrakoa, and ethereals, had also come to call the City of the Dead their home; 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 eager to claim the fallen temple as their own. Fortunately for Danarshi, each of these threats had, indeed, made their home deep within the tunnels of Auchindoun, rarely venturing into the outside world. Danarshi brazenly entered what was left of Auchindoun, the Eastern, and Western Transepts visually unrecognisable to him. The Congregation of Souls had become a crater, exposed to the exterior elements. Danarshi ventured down through the tunnels that were yet to crumble, entering the remnants of the Congregation of Souls, its floor having once been shrouded in darkness, hidden away from sight. Danarshi experienced negative emotions like no other as he had gazed about himself, examining what remained of the temple's ceiling, impaled into the ground as mighty chunks of debris. At this point in time, Danarshi could not hope to fathom the idea that the Auchenai could have possibly survived such devastation; he was ready to accept the fate of both they, and Aelleena.

Danarshi's knees crashed against the charred soil as he began to send out a desperate prayer to the naaru themselves, pleading for their mercy, so that they may help to place the aimless souls that wandered Auchindoun to rest, to guide them onward to D'ore, so that they may become one with the Light. Amongst all the chaos, Danarshi could only hope that D'ore had not been uncovered by the malicious organisations that roamed the temple's crypts and tunnels; D'ore had already been vulnerable, even without the threat of these outsiders, and, if found, they would certainly be capable of destroying him. With significant surprise to Danarshi, his prayer was, in fact, answered by an exterior force; it was clear to him that this had not, however, originated from the naaru, though from a draenei. The familiar voice of Exarch Maladaar echoed throughout the mind of Danarshi, reassuring him of the survival of the Auchenai. Danarshi was awestruck by this happening, amazed that the Auchenai had managed to survive. Could this mean that Aelleena yet lived? Danarshi could not simply turn his back upon his people, not a second time; he had to discover the fate of his former wife. Maladaar revealed the position of the Auchenai, they who were hidden away within the very crypts of Auchindoun, 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 haste 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. He had to make a choice: to rejoin his brothers and sisters within the Auchenai, or to abandon them yet another time, forsaking those who had generously placed their trust in him. Danarshi could not help it; he could not bare to turn his back on his people; he was admitted back into the ranks of the Auchenai, the entrance to the crypts opened before him, allowing his entry. The interior of the crypts were in little better shape than their exterior, rubble mounted in piles, bones littering the floor, the halls dark, eerie and haunted. Disturbance spilled into Danarshi as he laid his eyes upon his former brethren, many of them baring a sickly, wretched appearance; he could do little more than to assume that the war had taken a toll upon them, a dreadful one, at that.

Above all, Danarshi was relieved to see that the Auchenai was still alive, despite the fact that they in such a poor state. As close as he had come to experiencing a slip of happiness, it was soon snatched away from his palms upon the question in which he had kept bottled up: the fate of Aelleena. Danarshi's heart began to beat at a near-painful magnitude, as the news he had been dreading most was met with his ear: Aelleena had perished against the Bleeding Hollow clan, her remains hidden away and preserved within Auchindoun's crypts. Despite the great rift that had formed between the two, ancient partners, something within Danarshi had truly snapped upon that day, and it would mark the time within his life that he would begin to change into something far more darkened, twisted and tragic for a time to come. At long last, he had become a victim of his own sanity, resorting to that of a bumbling, secluded individual, consumed by negativity and ridden with violence, despair, and hopelessness, as appeared to be the case with the vast majority of the Auchenai survivors, including Maladaar himself, who was, perhaps, the greatest sufferer of them all.

In consequence of his complete and utter emotional collapse that had been strongly building up over the course of twenty five thousand years, that of which had, at last, caved upon him, Danarshi fit in exceedingly well with what remained of the Auchenai, as many of them, including Maladaar himself, had began coming to terms with the inevitable doom of Outland, and those who lived upon it; the Auchenai saw no hope in the survival of the draenei race, and they figured that Outland was not long for this universe; Danarshi could not help but become indoctrinated by these beliefs, sharing in the concerns of his brethren. In response to such a conformed body of insanity, Exarch Maladaar allied himself with a man'ari eredar known as Levixus the Soul Caller, in a lust for grasping a sinister new power: necromancy. This alliance forced Danarshi to question Maladaar and his motives, almost violently so, unbelieving that there could possibly be any justifiable reason to accept the presence of a man'ari.

Danarshi was but a thought away from awakening from his guise of misguided insanity, though, by this time, it was already too late, as even he had begun to imagine the benefits of necromancy, despite his unwavering hatred for the Burning Legion, and their foul magics and demons; it was an opportunity to shine life within his fallen people, to, alas, bring them back to the world of living; he was unaware of how misguided he had become. Truthfully, hidden within the deeper expanses of his mind, he had never properly come to terms with the corruption laid out upon his former people by the Fel; as eager as he had been to quash them from existence, eradicating every single one of them, a question had always crossed his mind, one that he had never been able to answer: were the man'ari redeemable? Could they be brought to the Light, reversing their condition? Danarshi could not answer these questions, although, if a cure was a possibility, he did not know if he would truly wish for their redemption; whilst the majority of his thoughts wished for their destruction, a smaller portion desired to see them purified. Given the chance to study the man'ari eredar, and a category of their magics, he, for the sake of the Auchenai, forced himself to delve deeper into the mystery of the man'ari's corruption, accepting the presence of Levixus, though in an exceedingly cautious manner.

When Light Falls, Darkness Rises
Danarshi, and the remainder of the Auchenai, were twisted from holy anchorites of the Light, to deathly priests of the darkened Void, having proceeded to twist the spirits of the dead in such ways once thought to so sinister that it would never have been dared attempted by a single member of the Auchenai in the past of time. In search of the ghost of Aelleena, Danarshi spent the majority of his initial efforts harnessing his ability to track the spirits of the dead, widely unsuccessful, for a time. When not searching for his fallen bond-mate, he courageously embraced the sinister teachings of necromancy; he had a maddened plan in mind, one that only the most utmost of insane would have thought to attempt. Following a pronounced quantity of patience and dedication, at last, he had grasped the fundamentals of necromancy, before successfully managing to locate the restless spirit of his wife, she who roamed Auchindoun, an echo of her former self, shrouded by utter negativity. Her appearance was, perhaps, the most unnerving sight that Danarshi had ever bared to witness before throughout his entire life, an expression of momentous fear, pain, and confusion consistently spread across her pale face. Danarshi was traumatised; being able to see Aelleena again did not bring him nearly as much ecstasy as he had bargained for.

Danarshi's concept of necromancy was admittedly unique in comparison to many of the others who practiced the identical school of magic within the crypts. To Danarshi, at the time, the solution to the countless spirits that clawed and wailed away at him was no longer to send them to D'ore, though to return them to their bodies, so that they may roam the world once more, "alive", despite the fact that necromancy performed anything but this, proof on just how misguided he had truly become.

The further that Danarshi delved into these unholy energies, the more distant that he grew from the Holy Light, twisting him, both physically, and mentally. His appearance began to shift, his very skin gradually darkening into a sickly, shadowy shade, his hair sharing the same fate, as it degraded from a vibrant, natural brown, to a darker, washed out shade, faintly purple in colour. His hair grew to an extraordinary length, due to a lack of attendance, an issue that he resolved by tying his overgrown locks of hair into a rather ludicrous, fox-tail fashion, one that followed closely with how his hair had been initially styled. Ultimately, at the pinnacle of his malformation, the horns atop his forehead that had once stuck almost directly upwards, shifted forward into what was, arguably, more of a “demonic” appearance.

Danarshi's transformation into a darkened, sickly individual was complete, the fabled anchorite of the Holy Light that he had once stood out to be, now completely twisted by the darkness of the Void, the presence of the Light having become absent from his very being; he could wield the Holy energies no longer. Danarshi, aside from his increasing level of insanity, proved to have little trouble in making such a transition, as he had already been adjusted to the nature of shadow magic during his years initial time within the Auchenai. Although it is understandably debatable as to why Danarshi had not initially used shadow magic to harm his opponents in troubling situations, misuse of the practice was considered a huge breach of morals within draenei society, and was greatly frowned upon; in recognition of this, he had never embraced the risk of using the shadow in order to inflict harm, in fear that it would banish him from his people. It was not until his days of necromancy did Danarshi dwell beyond the borders of shadow magic that were considered as safe and just by his people, resorting to abusing the practice in nearly every way that he could find.

When the time had come for Danarshi to reanimate his very first corpse with the use of necromancy, he demanded that the Auchenai bring the body of Aelleena to him; his motives were as sickening as they appeared. The Auchenai, without question, accepted the request, carrying Aelleena's scarred and decaying corpse to an altar, there where the reanimation process was to take place. Danarshi's face was void of emotion throughout the ritual, as he summoned the spirit of his fallen wife, she who came at his beck and call, beyond her own will. “Gaze now upon your second chance at life, my love. It had been my duty to protect you from death, and that is a duty that I had shamefully failed. Now, you shall be among the first to gain the privilege of the greatest gift of all: the gift of new life.” Danarshi had proclaimed in a monotone manner, as he completed the foul ritual, merging the soul and corpse of Aelleena, binding the two of them together, in an effort of reanimating the woman into something that would resemble what she once had been.

Danarshi was delusional, and his attempt at effectively reanimating his former wife proved to be nothing more than both a failure, and a disaster. Aelleena rose from death itself, no less decomposed as she had already been. Rather than speak, or show any signs of sentience, she snarled like a feral, rabid beast, falling from the altar, and mindlessly charging at her treacherous, former husband, clawing at him with sharpened nails; this creature was anything but Aelleena. Danarshi hadn't a choice but to restrain her wrists and ankles with shadowy tendrils, in an act of his own self-defence. Two observant members of the Auchenai took notice to this act of resiliency, coming to the aid of Danarshi, in which they forcefully placed Aelleena back upon the altar in which she was risen, Danarshi retracting her shadowy binds for but a moment so that she could be carried, before tying her to the very altar itself with an identical spell. Laid back upon the altar, powerless to escape, despite her endless attempts, Danarshi's unscrupulous ritual had failed in its practice, unable to deliver the tortured woman back into the world of the living. He was utterly clueless on how to rectify the mistake he had made. Had he committed a heinous act upon Aelleena? Did this effort mark him as a monstrous individual? Within the coils of darkness that had come to consume his mind, he could not even recognise the answers to these questions.

Danarshi had come too far; he could not turn back, not now. The necromancer returned to his studies, focusing upon the subject with an unbreakable focus, reading through tome after tome in desperation to excel. Aelleena's body, now desecrated, was left as little more than a reminder of the price of selfishness, impatience, and failure. Danarshi could not bare to put her out of his misery, nor did he allow it be committed by anybody else, an act of sheer selfishness. He was disappointed in his foolishness to have risen Aelleena during his inexperience, an embarrassingly shameful mistake to be made by a man of such age and experience. Adamant to improve the abilities in which he had gained, Danarshi raised the corpses of several dozen draenei over the course of weeks, the majority of them proved as being little more than failures, until, at last, something had begun to change: the dead whom he raised became consecutively more docile, eventually enough that they followed every little command that Danarshi issued them with; they were entranced, caught beneath his control.

In the weeks that he had spent nose-deep within his studies, Danarshi had begun to lose the vision in which he had once exercised. As the walking dead bent to his very well, the sense of power and authority began to consume his ambitions. As the days passed by him, Danarshi no longer wished to bring salvation to the fallen draenei; he simply sought more power, hungry to become among the most gifted of necromancers within the Auchenai. Everything that Danarshi had once been, and everything that he had stood for, was no more. Now, he was no better than Levixus himself.

Awakening
Danarshi, ceasing to exercise himself as he always had, even proceeded to push on without food, water and sleep for several days at a time. In consequence of his deleterious lifestyle, the very shape of his body shifted over the course of multiple weeks, deforming into a weaker, thinner, scrawnier individual, an appearance that even he had not seen himself in since his very childhood. Admitedly, if the man would continue to live his life in such a manner, it was undeniable: eventually, he would lead his body to ruin, and, perhaps, even die a painful death. During one of the rare occasions in which Danarshi would find rest from his necromantic plots, he fell into a deep sleep, exhausted, his strength sapped from his body. Within the midst of his slumber, Danarshi was contacted within his dreams, although its nature was mysterious; it felt real. A harmonic essence washed over him, bringing a comforting warmth to him, a feeling that had become near to forgotten by him.

The darkened void that was Danarshi's dream was soon filled with a blinding Light; what remained of D'ore appeared before his very eyes, staring into his very being, observing him, judging him; even Danarshi could feel the sorrow that radiated from this noble being, 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 reached me, Soulpriest Danarshi; only now can I hear it through the deafening cries of the tormented dead; it has never been more difficult for me to hear. You preached freedom, my child, purification for the restless dead, yet I find you here, committing atrocious acts upon the fallen of your own kind. For centuries, you, and the Auchenai, stood beside me, protecting me, ensuring that I am returned to the Light; why have you betrayed me? Why have you turned your backs on the Light? I cannot speak to the others, for only has your prayer issued me with the ability to contact you. I cannot help them, although I can help you, Danarshi. I plead of you to cease these immoral acts, to abandon the studies, the dark arts in which you have been cursed with. If you wish for the forgiveness of the naaru, of Aelleena, then burn her body, release her spirit, and I, personally, shall purify her, so that she may, at long last, become one with the Light. Once this task is complete, flee these halls, without question, and never return; your purpose here was completed long ago, and there is nothing left here for you to do. Once you are gone from this place, venture east into the remnants of Tanaan Jungle, until you stumble upon a mighty dimensional rift, one I believe the mortals have come to call the "Dark Portal"; there, you shall discover your first step towards redemption. Awaken, Danarshi. Awaken."

Upon the very moment that D'ore's words fell to silence, the essence of the Light drained from Danarshi's body, forcing a chill throughout him, enough to have made him shudder. His eyes shot open; he was awake, not only physically, though to himself, as well. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he now realised the unspeakable horrors he had committed upon his people, and Aelleena. Danarshi knew that D'ore was correct: he could not stay within the crypts, nor could he allow his former bond-mate's spirit to suffer on, as he had allowed it to. Ultimately, if he was to find survival, and any chance at future redemption, then he would have no choice but to break free of the the binds that the Auchenai had placed upon his mind, before it was lost to insanity, forever.

Danarshi trudged through the crypts, witnessing the sight of his fellow Auchenai tormenting countless draenei spirits, raising the dead, and actively defiling the graves of resting corpses. With a mind now clear, he witnessed these acts through the eyes of one who was pure; the terror was nigh enough to petrify him. It was now obvious to him just how morally wrong the practice of necromancy had been, and that there were no secrets to be uncovered about the demons of the Burning Legion; they are beings of complete and utter evil, wishing for nothing more than to inflict pain and suffering upon all life within the Great Dark Beyond; redemption for the man'ari was not a foreseeable option to him now. Danarshi made particular haste for Aelleena's reanimated body, desperate to free the beloved woman whom he had wronged so badly, and to escape the desecrated grounds of Auchindoun, a place that he already knew would haunt him for the remainder of his days.

As she had been ever since her reanimation, Aelleena struggled against her shadowy binds, trapped upon the altar in which she had been placed. For their final moments together, Danarshi stood before the mindless entity that had once been the love of his life. Tears continued to roll down from his eyes, as he stared directly into very being of Aelleena; her face was evidence of the disgrace he had become. “Please, my love, please, forgive me. This is not my way, nor was it ever meant to be. My arrogance is not something that you have ever deserved to bare. 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. Never again shall I allow them, or any others, to manipulate me in such a fiendish way. When the orcs came, I was a coward to abandon you. I should have stayed behind, even if it meant dying by your side; death would have proved a better fate than what I have become. I am so, so sorry, Aelleena, for the unforgivable acts I have committed upon you. Know that, forevermore, I will love you, my eternal partner in the Light whom I have forsaken to the Void.” Danarshi spoke to her in finality, his tone trembling uncontrollably beneath his grief, hushed to a volume that no others would have been able to hear.

Danarshi grasped the very face of Aelleena, the curse of undeath that coursed through her rotting body, diminishing in a matter of moments, as he had sucked her soul directly from her body, using pure shadow to carry out the task; he had little other choice, for the Light had forsaken him, as he had forsaken it. Aelleena fell limp, her spirit levitating above her rotted corpse, her eyes trained sorely upon Danarshi, filled with angst and misery. At sudden, a subtle beam of Light formed several feet atop the spirit, washing over her form, filling her with its holy radiance, until she shone brighter than a star. Without speaking a word, Aelleena's spirit flowed throughout the crypts, bewildering the Auchenai whom bared witness to such a happening. Before long, she was gone, away to become one with D'ore, he who had been responsible for her sudden purification, so that she could, at long last, become one with the Light. Danarshi seized a torch that was near to him, releasing the shadowy binds which contained the body of Aelleena, before cremating her with the torch's flames; she had been laid to rest, and there was little more that he could do for his former love. Danarshi could not bare to spend another moment within the crypts, and made immediate haste for its exit, not even daring to issue Auchindoun another glance as he fled across the Bone Wastes, disappearing into the thicket of Terokkar Forest.

Danarshi was left to wander the ravaged world of Outland, with little choice but to use the power of the Void for his survival, for he had lost the ability to wield the Holy Light, and had grown far too physically weak to effectively battle his foes in melee combat. At this point in time, Danarshi had moved well beyond the idea of romance, his respect for the bond that he and Aelleena had crafted between each other for the past twenty eight thousand years, proving as an anchor that he did not dare to let go of. In reflection of his failure to uphold his eternal bond with Aelleena, Danarshi sought no further out of the aspect of love, other than to avenge her death; his ultimate purpose now was to find a means to destroy the Burning Legion, and little more. To him, he had failed Aelleena to such an extent that opening up a new path of romance with another individual would be nothing more than a complete and utter act of disrespect to her; ironically, the kind nature of Aelleena would have been likely to oppose this, though, having desecrated her in such a heinous manner, he refused to forsake their bond.

Although Danarshi no longer held a grasp over the Holy Light, D'ore had left a spark within his heart, so that, at a designated time in the eventual future, Danarshi would gain the opportunity to atone for his sins, and recover the knowledge in which he had once held; it would be a difficult process, one that required signficiant time, dedication, patience, and support, although it was a chance that most whom betrayed the Light were never granted. Upon this day, his path for redemption had begun, swearing 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 could only be revealed with time.

The Burning Crusade
Immediately upon escaping from Auchindoun, Danarshi ventured unto the north-east, towards Tanaan Jungle, seeking out the Dark Portal, that of which D'ore had personally instructed him to find, for a reason that was yet to be revealed to him. Weak and without energy, the journey was of no ease to him, his body, nearly gaunt in appearance, having forced him to halt for rest on more occasions than he would have been proud to admit. Tanaan Jungle, although well heard of by him, was a region of Draenor that was vastly unknown to Danarshi at the time, never having received the opportunity to pass beyond its borders, until this key moment.

As Danarshi trod into Tanaan Jungle, a dreadful feeling of disturbance washed throughout his mind, and his nerves; 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 brown, rich, luscious soil, choked with thick vegetation, was now a mere wasteland, the ground cracked, scorched and reddened from the wildfires that had latterly consumed it, not even a single tree, plant nor strand of grass left in sight. Even the fog-ridden, gloomy sky of Terokkar Forest had disappeared, revealing what was a tear between both reality, and the Twisting Nether. Danarshi had witnessed countless horrors wrought by the planet's annihilation, although none yet quite so severe as Hellfire Peninsula, the mere sight of it enough to tighten his throat and bring sickness to his shrunken stomach.

Although Danarshi had taken notice to the wildlife that had largely reappeared within Terokkar Forest, the vast majority of them having been mutated in varying manners, he was fortunate to have successfully steered clear of their attention. As he wandered across Hellfire Peninsula, his luck was soon to run short as two fel orcs, their corruption so severe that one could mistake them as a form of monstrous demon, charged toward the draenei from a distance, viewing the scrawny figure as an easy target to sate their uncontrollable bloodlust. With a sizable gap presented between the opponents, Danarshi was provided with the appropriate time to prepare, both hesitation and contemplation having been quick to consume his mind; it was more clear than ever to him that these orcs were beneath the influence of the Fel, the signature magic of the Burning Legion, as their blades were infused with its energies, their skin and eyes as red as the surrounding landscape.

Had the demons truly been behind the tragedies that had occurred throughout the past thirty years? Although Danarshi had been suspicious of such a theory for well beyond a decade, the pieces of the puzzle had only begun to fall further into place for him, yet, even so, it was still impossible for him to yet be sure of his growing assumption. Nevertheless, with the warming, comforting Light no longer coursing throughout his soul, he hadn't a choice but to conjure an alternate method of defending himself. As he reached into his very being, questioning the abilities that were left available to him, the cold, dark, lonely essence of the Void cried out to him, still present within him; aside from the dark arts in which he had obtained within the ranks of the corrupted Auchenai, those of which he had refused to ever use again, the shadow was his final remaining means of defence. Had the time ultimately come for him to face his fears, and to slay a living creature with the power of the Void? If he were to hold back against the fel orcs, he would have no chance of survival, and he knew this all too well.

As the gap between Danarshi and the orcs began to close, instinct claimed the reins of his self-control, causing him to lift each of his arms in front of his chest and to flay the very minds of the attackers with the crushing force of shadow magic; a dark, purple beam shot from each one of his palms, the two beams connecting with the very skulls of the orcs. Danarshi did not hold back in his attack, and the orcs were soon to fall on to their knees in sheer agony, screaming out at their opponent in weeps of pleading mercy. 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, hunching over as the fel orcs fell on to their faces in death. As much as he had been taught about the nature of shadow magic in combat, and why it could be viewed as an immoral practice, never could he have expected it to bring such critical levels of suffering to its victims; as the shadow manifests at its strongest within negative emotions, both within its wielders, and its victims, it was safe for Danarshi to assume that whatever it was that the fel orcs had witnessed throughout their suffering, it was was harrowing enough to terminate their minds, their wailing having been comparable to times in which he had severed limbs from bodies as a trained harbinger.

Ethical or not, Danarshi hadn't a choice but to rely solely upon the Void for his foreseeable future; he would simply have to ensure that he took care in not losing his will against the tempting power that the Void offered those who served it, as, although this power was no lie, it would also bring madness, and, ultimately, death. Without the aid of the Light, that which was key in warding off the dark temptations of the Void, it would prove difficult for him; he could only hope that his intensive training of self-control within the Auchenai would prove suffice. Without further delay, he resumed his journey across the peninsula. Soon, he came across a sight that would be forever etched into his mind: the bones of thousands upon thousands of draenei were lodged directly into the ground, a vile construction that shaped an enormous pathway, one that ran directly from the Dark Portal itself, to the insidious Hellfire Citadel, the primary base of operations for the fel orc war effort upon Outland.

The bone-ridden pathway became known as the Path of Glory, built 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 cremated many of his peoples' corpses, though this? Not even Archimonde the Defiler himself would have been nefarious enough to assemble such an unholy creation, and it caused his knuckles to grow tense, enough that an audible crack had sounded from within them. What Danarshi was to see next was enough to ignite his veins in searing hatred: the demons of the Burning Legion marched down the Path of Glory and towards the Dark Portal, after having poured from their own, foul gateways.

The presence of the Burning Legion was strong upon the Path of Glory, and Danarshi could not have even begun to comprehend what it was that they sought upon Outland, a world in which had already been obliterated. Danarshi skirted around the very outskirts of Hellfire Peninsula, witnessing the endless expanse that surrounded the shattered planet, that of which was the Great Dark Beyond, much of it laced with the fabric of the Twisting Nether, presented as a ginormous, flowing stream of green energy. As he, at last, reached the mighty stairs of the towering Dark Portal, his legs having begun to tremble beneath his own weight from his exhaustion, hunger and dehydration, entire platoons of soldiers, many of them having originated from unique, unknown races, rushed by the puzzled draenei, some battling beneath a blue and golden banner, whilst others fought beneath 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 recall of it was blurry, at best. Had these armies originated from beyond the Dark Portal itself?

Soon, Danarshi witnessed both the sight of green skinned orcs, and draenei, each present within the defence against the Burning Legion. Naturally, he would have been obliged to obliterate every orc within his view, although the draenei appeared to have been presenting a passive behaviour towards them. Had the draenei truly become so susceptible that they had willingly joined in arms with those whom committed genocide upon their people? These were the thoughts that coursed through Danarshi's mind, and he had begun to wonder how many events he had missed during his recent time within the Auchenai.

Danarshi approached a prominent figure dressed in gold, gleaming armour of unfamiliar craft, he who appeared to be in charge of many of the operations at the Dark Portal. The man's name was Duron, a human commander of the Alliance from the distant world of Azeroth, this having been marked as the first occasion in which Danarshi had personally met an Azerothian. He questioned Commander Duron and, despite how busy the human had been, was briefed by him on various key details, such as the immediate battle at the Dark Portal, the structure of both the Alliance, and the Horde, what the draenei had accomplished upon Azeroth following the crash of the Exodar by fault of blood elf sabotage, and the very reasoning behind the orcish corruption, that Kil'jaeden had fooled their people into slaughtering the draenei, at long last confirming his suspicions that the Burning Legion had ultimately been behind their corruption. Danarshi was infuriated, even more so than before, not at the human commander, nor even at the orcs, though at the Burning Legion, and that it had been they all along who had been responsible for the suffering of his people upon Draenor. Danarshi knew now why D'ore had directed him towards the Dark Portal: so that he could join with the forces of Azeroth, to help them drive the Burning Legion off of Outland.

Although the curtain had been lifted from his vision, Danarshi's hatred for what the orcs had done, continued to burn away within him; the wound that they had caused upon the soul of both himself, and his people, whether they were deceived or not, was far too deep for him to simply forgive and forget, especially when treading upon a path forged by the orcs themselves from the bones of his people. Due to his grudge, Danarshi, unless if accompanied by an army of Alliance soldiers, performed the initiative to fight where it did not involve the orcs of the Horde; when encountering them out within the wilderness, he could not guarantee that a fight would not commence. In regards of the remainder of the Horde, throughout a point in time, Danarshi was largely considered as a neutral operative, having yet been to swear his allegiance to the Alliance. In reflection of this, almost all other races of the Horde, including trolls, tauren and forsaken, were not treated with any form of significant aggression by Danarshi, despite the undead nature of the forsaken, that of which unnerved him.

The aggression of the Horde against the draenei, they whom had joined forces with the Alliance, urged Danarshi to grow cautious of their presence. It had only been a matter of time before he was forced to defend against the various races of the Horde within the wilderness of Outland, his tolerance for such races having steadily deteriorated as time progressed, each violent encounter teaching him that they, and their horde, could not be trusted. As for the blood elves, Danarshi was immediately distrustful the sin'dorei as soon he had learned of their plots against both his people, and the naaru, having been responsible for the capturing of the Tempest Keep, the kidnapping of M'uru, and the crash-landing of the Exodar.

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, 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 into 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 warmth 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 scorch at him, 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, in 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, broken 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 of 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 its 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 how much power that you can possess, before it is too much. I limited myself, so that I may still be myself. You, in your lust for power, have all but lost yourself. You think that you are the master of your own capabilities, 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 shall boil, and its continents will 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, they will be met by an army of races, united and ready to stand against it. The Burning Legion has failed to claim our world three times 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 fall 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 died. 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 great 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: the Twisting Nether is an unstable matrix of immense measure, and what is able to occur within is still, to this 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 been noticing in 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 had heard much before in particular, and he was puzzled by them; the songs that birds had sung, 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 Draenor.

Trivia
-Danarshi can typically be found on the Moon Guard server, if you wish to search for him on the World of Warcraft armory or to find me in-game.

-Danarshi was originally created during 2009 on the Saurfang server. He was a Discipline priest who, due to my inexperience at the time, used the specialisation purely to deal damage. Long following the creation of my character "Lacvanis" on the Moon Guard server in 2010, whom I decisively recreated and renamed to "Danarshi", the original Danarshi from Saurfang was deleted shortly after the recreation, as I no longer had a use for him. Today's Danarshi, as we know him, was created on the nineteenth of January, 2012.

-Danarshi's name was, sadly, once "Lacvanis", which has long since been retconned. Lacvanis, out of character wise, however, still existed for many years beyond his recreation into Danarshi, which occurred during Cataclysm. It was only until Warlords of Draenor that I finally decided that it was more than time to put the poor old character to rest (the extra character slot sure came in handy, though). Additionally, for those who care, Lacvanis was, out of character wise, an Unholy death knight, as his focus on necromancy, in character wise, was active enough to have urged almost any sane draenei to immediately cut him down on the spot. Basically, the character was a complete mess, and I like to think that I have come a long way since those dark times (let us forget).

-Danarsho, the orc infant rescued by Danarshi in the segment "Noble Intent", is, in fact, a real character of mine. This character was created on the Saurfang server in the year 2009/2010, though was moved to Wyrmrest Accord during 2015. His name was as uncreative as it seems, "Danarshi" being the name in which it, indeed, derived from. Due to their strikingly similar names, involving him directly with Danarshi, in character wise, only seemed to be the most fitting course of action in explaining the origins of the orc's name. If you are curious to see what a grown Danarsho looks like, then feel free to search for him 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.
 * Once finished with the alternate Draenor segment of the story, I will be moving on to Danarshi's activities in the Legion expansion.
 * Until the page's ultimate completion, I will forever be creating and adding more images, in order to further help make the page vibrant and interesting to read through.
 * In my spare time, I may consider making unique pages for some of the characters and locations that appear during Danarshi's backstory. It's not really necessary, and, knowing me, I probably won't find the time to get around to it, but, if I do, you're welcome to check them out.


 * Due to certain changes and retcons to the structure of draenei history on Draenor that were recently solidified by the second volume of Chronicle, I am currently in the process of editing a series of segments of the backstory in order to remain current with the canon lore. Progress has been steady and I should be finished with this, soon.


 * I am currently on the lookout for an artist who would be willing to accept a commission for Danarshi. I would love to replace this page's main picture with something far more awesome!
 * More paragraphs! Nobody likes reading through a series of text walls.
 * I am considering on making a unique page for Danarshi's land of birth, Amanalar, and removing the description of it, and its settlements, from this page. If I decide against it, I will remove this bullet point.