Leoren

Leoren Evershine

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Full Name: Leoren Evershine

Nicknames: Leo, (Formerly) The Valiant, The Dead Scar Saint

Date of Birth: 39 B.D.P. (Years Before Medivh’s Opening of the Dark Portal).

Age: Young Adult, 68 years.

Race: Sin’Dorei

Gender: Male

Hair: Golden Blonde

Skin: Bronze Tan

Eyes: Emerald Green

Height: 6’3

Weight: 85 Kg

Place of residence: Wandering nomad, a patron of numerous inns without a home to call his home.

Place of Birth: Quel’Danil Lodge, Hinterlands.

Known Relatives:

Surianne Evershine: Father, Deceased (Killed).

Amaria Evershine: Mother, Deceased (Died in child birth).

Zelaine Evershine: Sister.

Religion/Philosophy: Former Paladin of the Holy Light. Strongly believes the only respect a person needs is their own. Is also a strong believer in returning what’s received.

Occupation: Knight Champion of Silvermoon's Blood Knights.

Enemies: Anyone who would harm those he holds dear or protects under his aegis as a Knight of Silvermoon. Those who he feels have betrayed him. Any Alliance who would attack without provocation.

Likes: Independence, Challenges, Vindication & Romance.

Favorite Foods: Cuisine native to Quel’Thalas. He’s very partial to anything Spicy.

Favorite Drinks: Any form of Sweet Nectar.

Favorite Colors: Blue, despite tending to wear alot of red.

Weapons of Choice: Swords, Hammers and the Light itself.

Dislikes: Solitude, Vulnerability, Subordination, Pretentiousness, Hypocrites, Dishonesty & Disloyalty.

Hobbies: Exploring and re-exploring freedoms previously frowned upon as a holy man. He'd pursue a world of interests if he only had the time.

Physical Features: Leoren is a tall, strapping young Sin’Dorei. Though slim, his body is clearly well built and chiseled under the stress of physical hardship. His almond shaped eyes are set beneath finely arched eyebrows. They shine a bright green like emeralds before the sun, his gaze always burning with a fierce and unbridled passion. His skin is reasonably tanned and is almost bronzed by many hours in the sun. He keeps his long, silky golden blonde hair well kept and tied with an engraved turquoise hair band, resting it comfortably against his broad chest. His face framed ruggedly by a chiseled jaw and high cheek bones adorns gentle features, youthful skin and an absence of any visible scars.

Special Abilities: The destruction of the Sunwell did not strongly impact him as it did for many of his Quel’Dorei brethren. His addiction to mana appears minimal at worst.

Positive Personality Traits: Fiercely Independent. Unwaveringly Loyal. Self Sufficient. Irrepressibly Confident. Driven. Charismatic. Empathetic.

Negative Personality Traits: Self righteous. Unforgiving. Jaded. Impatient. Has little regard for the consequences of his actions. When confronted by his own shortcomings, he has the tendency in his frustration to grow cold, distant and angry.

Misc. Quirks: Leoren has recently been seen followed by a baby crimson dragon, whose origins are a mystery. Despite whispers that this dragon is able to communicate with others via telepathy, Leoren has yet to hear it speak to him.

Played by What Famous Person: Josh Holloway

Theme Songs:

History:

[[NOTE: The reason Leoren's history has been written pain stakingly long and as accurately as possible according to the available lore's time line was because there are a few individuals who have contacted me prior and wanted to organise their storylines with Leoren's. Having said that, I am more than happy to arrange tying in his storyline with anyone else's should they have any ideas or suggestions as to how the respective stories would sync. I've attempted to write the entire story in a way that is accessible in the sense that it can be deemed public knowledge through rumours and whispers among Blood Elven society.]]

Childhood (Age 1-12):

In the Quel'Danil Lodge of the Hinterlands, Leoren was born the last scion of the Evershine family, a noble bloodline deeply entrenched in the arcane arts. His father’s line proudly claimed to be able to trace its family history as far back as the crowning of the high elves’ first monarch, Dath’Remar Sunstrider. As a child, Leoren was shunned by many for his complete inability to wield magic or employ any sorcery for which his family was renowned for the generations preceding him. When his mother died giving birth to his baby sister Zelaine, he would be left unshielded from the constant jeers and mockery of his “condition”. It was a painful environment where he was constantly unable to meet his father’s high expectations. The fact that Leoren, the last scion of his line, was unable to uphold his family’s proud magical tradition tormented his father Mage Lord Surianne - who would never fail to remind the young Leoren of the shame this brought to the Evershine name.

The Dalaran Years (Age 13-19):

He had a rough initiation into manhood while starting his studies at Dalaran. His father’s influence afforded him a place in the esteemed Dalaran academies among the Kirin Tor. Despite this, he was still labeled as a failure before even stepping into its halls. For a boy who had as much magical affinity as a lifeless rock, many viewed him wrongfully priviledged. At every turn from both the elves and human magi, he was met with dismissal, mockery and even outright hostility.

Constantly ridiculed by his Quel’Dorei brethren, Leoren would continue for some time as an outcast. Despite these circumstances, his spirit hadn't appeared to be broken. Though he did not make many friends, the few who did embrace him often regarded him for his incredible empathy and kind hearted nature. Those around him could easily see the love he harbored for his friends and family, even when at times it was unrequited. Leoren appeared always able to find happiness with himself and his life no matter how unkind the majority of the people in his youth were to him. With the unconditional love of his adoring sister, also in training at the Academy, and the support of his closest friends - Leoren looked to be genuinely content.

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Outcast of the Pariah (Age: 20):

Leoren would eventually be exiled from the academy. Concrete details are sketchy but rumors have it he was present during one of Dalaran’s routine research projects which turned horribly awry. As the story goes, a freak uncontrollable arcane surge left all present dead. All except for Leoren. It is said those who died by the undocumented affliction all suffered quick and painful deaths, their bodies decaying before their own eyes. Despite remaining unscarred by the ordeal, Leoren lived only to meet a suspicious and enraged mob. The lack of answers had lead a superstitious public into outcry. The magi were more than willing to ostracize the young elf as the unsuspecting scapegoat, deducing his presence was a cause of the grim result. Leoren’s own silence and lack of protest only damned him more as he took the fall. Soon after even the majority of Leoren’s few long time companions disassociated with him in disgust, his first love included. The Mage Lord Surianne saw his son’s part in the accident and resulting expulsion as the final nail in the coffin.

The last words the two ever would exchange were as spiteful as they were loud as they echoed in the streets. The expulsion served as a catalyst for a series of events which lead Leoren into a downward spiral of self loathing. Disowned and penniless, Leoren gladly left Silvermoon. He despised the city and almost everything he ever related to his one time home. Not much was publicly known about Leoren’s activities and whereabouts after he ran away. It would be the last time he’d see the city for many years to come. The only sign confirming his existence were the rare letters his sister would receive from him each year.

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The Wandering Years (Age: 21-30):

As fate would have it, Leoren took up the lifestyle of a wandering vagrant – living a mostly carefree existence among the human nations. In every city he would take on a new name, his identity always changing. During this time he broke out of his previously shy and introverted nature and fully embraced a more social demeanor his new personas afforded him. He wielded a newfound confidence and charm as a means to get him what he needed to get by. Whispers indicate he involved himself in a gamut of ever changing lifestyles ranging from theatrical troupe member, wandering poet to parading falsely as nobility. For a long time he became comfortable in his new libertine lifestyle, enjoying the life of a bachelor and philanderer.

Already quite handsome by his race’s standards, his looks alone devastated the hearts of many human women which he would learn to shamelessly exploit. When unemployed, he’d often make a comfortable living conning his way through most circumstances. Whether it was an idle fancy at the local tavern or a noble woman of some affluence, he distinctly kept his romances short regardless of how intense they may have burned – never allowing himself to get too attached. His wanderlust however as a result would often end up getting him into more trouble than it was worth. Xenophobia had a nasty habit of lurking at every corner for Leoren. Many of the human communities’ would still discriminate against him for his elf heritage. Leoren as a result never could settle down in one spot for very long, never truly feeling any belonging to anywhere or in the hearts of anyone.

The Mourning After (Age: 30-31):

Leoren’s carefree lifestyle wouldn’t last forever. Unbeknownst to Leoren at the time, his father Surianne was killed when his escort travelling from Dalaran back to the Capital was assaulted by what signs pointed to as a marauding war band of Amani trolls. The entire incident was shrouded in mystery, no survivors left to tell the tale. One of the family’s wards was sent from the Evershine estate, searching tirelessly to deliver the news to Leoren. The scion was an elusive figure to find, the ward only able to follow the trail of rumour mongers and debris left in the wake of Leoren’s exploits and misadventures. It would be two months before Leoren was found on the Island nation of Gilneas.

Upon hearing word, Leoren wouldn’t quite be the same. He was devastated by guilt, self doubt and the realization that amends could never be made. Leoren returned to Silvermoon after years of aversion to visit his family’s estate – all of which was left to Leoren’s sister Zelaine. Though the stigma of his past was never entirely redeemed, it was partially forgotten – many socialites within Silvermoon's society seeing Leoren in the period of his return as a new man of the world who was cultured and charismatic. His sister who unlike so many had always stood by Leoren, offered him half of the estate, property and the life of luxury she felt he deserved by her side. Much to her dismay, he declined and stayed only for little over a season. No one’s quite sure why he didn’t choose to stay, but he was clearly unhappy with himself while he did. As that summer came to a close, he once again departed south from Quel’Thalas into human lands.

The Priest, The Care Taker (Age 32-38):

It is said Leoren was seriously re-evaluating the lifestyle he was leading. Wrought with the guilt of his past transgressions and aware in his heart the life he led bore little meaning; he poured himself into something that promised renewal – faith in the holy light. He set his sights on the human kingdom of Lordaeron, the nation with the most expansive archives on its teachings and gospel. He had always treated the religion with some regard, more so out of respect than anything else up until this point. Now, it presented him hope to make peace with himself and the world. On what felt like shattered knees, he completely surrendered himself and renounced the selfish ways of the life he had been living. For the first time he felt he could stop running, and make his stand proudly. The church welcomed the Elf as a student to their teachings, treating him with kindness and sincerity. It was a far cry from the abuse he received at Dalaran.

At first his faith started as a simple commitment to adhere to the light’s teachings. In time, his unwavering devotion to the faith’s three virtues of Respect, Tenacity and Compassion would eventually serve as shining example to all faithful. Though he had no affinity for the arcane, the strength he drew from divinity empowered him beyond what anyone could have foreseen – his potential to wield the light to heal wounds to the flesh and spirit was considered extraordinary. As if it were destiny itself, Leoren knew in his heart that he had found his calling. Leoren soon took up the robes of a priest and diligently upheld his newfound beliefs and values. He resided peacefully in his role and for some time as one of the care takers of an Orhpanage near Stratholme. The accounts of his life during this period remain largely uneventful, but they do shed some light on a deeply kind, compassionate and caring soul.

Leoren the Valiant (Age: 39-45) :

Medivh marked a new age of strife as he opened the dark portal, and the drums of war begin to shake the world. Leoren by this point had already joined Archbishop Alonsus Faol's Holy Order of Northshire Clerics to spread the message of the Holy Light to people of the Kingdom of Azeroth. Following the invasion of the Horde through Medivh's Dark Portal which commenced the First War, Faol led the clerics into battle to aid the people of the kingdom. The clerics, although brave and powered by both healing and destructive powers of the Light, were unprepared for the dangers of war, and suffered heavy losses. Leoren only survived by conditioning himself both physically and mentally for the brutality of the battle field. He adapted surprisingly well to the more physical and martial path that came when he took up the war hammer.

From the ashes of of the Northshire Clerics would soon rise the legendary Order of The Silver Hand, far surpassing its predecessor in might and martial prowess. It is rumoured that Leoren may have been present at the Alonsus Chapel in Stratholme when Uther the Lightbringer was anointed the first of its paladins. Inspired by figures such as Saiden Dathrohan, Tirion Fordring, General Turalyon, and Gavinrad the Dire who followed in Uther's footsteps, Leoren would eventually also stand one of the Paladins of its order, his race making him an unusual fit. For his selfless devotion to the Holy Light and the people under his aegis, he was branded the epithet 'Leoren the Valiant' just before the second war broke upon Lordaeron.

The paladins proved instrumental in winning the tide of the war, and the war stories surrounding Leoren were equally inspiring in their own right. Most of the accounts of Leoren the Valiant circulating through the Alliance's ranks depicted him as a human, many of the soldiers mistaking his elvish features as he donned heavy plate armor while charging into the fray. The physical feats and daring melees he engaged in was often a source of much surprise to those who had seen him in battle when his elven heritage came to light, a race that primarily served the alliance as marksmen and magisters. Leoren was recognised apart from the other Paladins not by any a greater ability to do battle or heal the wounds of his allies, but rather instead for his compassion as he fought during the war. His life was almost forfeited on several occasions as he stood in the defense of non combatants who lacked the strength or means to protect themselves. Furthermore, even to his unpopularity, his preference to taking in Orcish combatants as prisoners of war instead of executing them was well documented. His selfless compassion no doubt birthed his nickname among fellow soldiers as a "Saint".

Settling Down (Age: 46-59) :

The Alliance won the second war, their final siege upon Blackrock Spire being a bittersweet triumph in light of Lord Lothar's death and sacrifice. As quiet began to settle over the Black Morass and the burned remains of the dark portal, the separate nations of the Alliance all withdrew back into their respective territories. Unconcerned for politics, the deterioration of war forged relations or the eventual secession of the High Elves from the Alliance, Leoren lay his hammer to rest as he returned to his orphanage in Lordaeron to once again live a humble, peaceful life.

It would be then that he would establish a close relationship with Aisleena Radcliffe, an adolescent human girl who was the daughter of a comrade of Leoren's who had fallen during the second war. What started as an almost paternal guardianship would bloom into romance as she matured, by many accounts beautifully, into a woman over the years. The nature of their love story remains largely a mystery. They were married in the Alonsus Chapel in Stratholme, and the stories tell the tale of them living happy and care free lives for a good many years following at the Oprhanage.

The Ending Dream, A Waking Nightmare (Age: 59-61):

Dark times for Leoren preceded the outbreak of the Third War and the eventual return of the Burning Legion. Kel'Thuzad and his Cult of the Damned's insidious plan to spread the plague of undeath throughout Lordaeron had already been set into motion. Uther the Lightbringer sent out a call to the faithful and fellow paladins to investigate the infected regions in the hopes of finding a cure. What is known is both Leoren and Aisleena answered the call, Aisleena having insisted now as an adult and well trained in the ways and teachings of the Paladin under Leoren's guidance. They both left the Orphanage in the care of the local pastor.

As history showed, the plague continued to spread and threatened to tear the Alliance apart from within. The Order of the Silver Hand was disbanded by Prince Arthas Menethil, something which was not within his authority, before ordering what Paladins and Knights still loyal to him to cull the city of Stratholme and surroundings of any innocent civillians suspected to be harbingers of the plague. The Prince went on to Northrend, leaving behind the Order of Paladins scattered and their unity in ashes. As far as Leoren's story goes, this period is literally shrouded in darkness. What transpired during and following this dark chapter for Leoren and his wife is unknown to many.

Leoren only resurfaced to the world a great deal of time later, unconscious and alone along the coast of a reclusive Dwarven farming out post on the eastern shore line of the Arathi Highlands around the time Uther the Lightbringer was killed by his beloved student Arthas at Andorhal. Leoren was in dire need of medical attention, he had a deep wound in his lower torso that was bleeding so severely that it nearly brought him to the verge of death. The farmers lacked the medical expertise or medicine to treat him, and they sent him by boat within the day to get the attention he needed at the near by High Elven Quel'Danil Lodge in the Hinterlands, coincidentally the place of his birth. In time they revived his body, but accounts detail that it was his mental condition and spirit that was crippled. It's said he spoke to no one during his stay as they treated him, refusing to answer any questions that lead him to his predicament. All that could be ascertained is that he had stopped wearing the wedding band that he wore when he first came to them.

Leoren's lethargic stupor was short lived, word of the Death Knight Arthas and his Scourge tearing down the gates to Quel'Thalas reaching his ears at the Quel'Dorei encampment quickly. Despite the Lodge's inhabitants inviting him to reside safely with them, he rejected their offer with a bitterness and venom that was unheard of his character. The last they would ever see of him was his gathering of what armor of his they could salvage and charging off on one of their riding steeds.

The Fall of Quel’Thalas (Age: 61) :

It was far too late. By the time Leoren arrived, the region’s borders had already fallen fast into memory. Quel'Thalas' defences had already been swiftly broken by Prince Arthas Menethil’s ruthless advance. The once proud nation of the High elves saw its demise in but a fleeting moment of its several milleniums of its existence. Leoren stood horrified at the brutality inflicted upon his homeland. The Scourge’s vast armies’ warpath having even scarred the earth itself. Terror and despair took hold over Leoren, no lessons ever prepared him for the horrors he would witness in those dark days.

He arrived soon after at capital only to see it in ruins, its once pristine towers and golden archways now in shambles. The bustling streets had been silenced, its fresh ghosts far outnumbering any remaining survivors. The Sunwell was ravaged and the King lay dead with his subjects either sharing his fate or wishing they had. Almost all who resided in the city and its immediate surroundings were slaughtered save a few exceptions.

The majority of survivors from the outlying areas were scattered and in hiding, ever fearful of the Scourge and their former kinsmen who had also fallen to the plague’s dark corruption. Leoren searched among these isolated bands day and night in a frantic attempt to find the most important tie he had left, his sister Zelaine. Their family estate destroyed, he was barely able to hold on to a desperate hope that she was still out there alive – a hope that was often met with cruel adversity. He didn’t find her, and it pained his every waking hour.

Not alone in his grief, guilt weighed heavily in his heart as he watched his countrymen struggle in those days. Though these were the same people who were so quick to scorn him in the past, Leoren could not help but anguish at their suffering. He saw their pain and loss akin to his own. Not a day went by when he didn’t curse himself for not being at their side as the nation fell. He swore to himself that he’d never abandon his people to despair, even if the grace of the light already had. When the healthiest and most fit of the remaining elves, now named Blood Elves to honor their fallen, joined Kael'thas' departure to campaign against the Scourge in Lordaeron, Leoren opted instead to remain behind to do what he could for the plight of those who did not have the strength or means to leave the ravaged land.

Rise of the Dead Scar Saint (Age 61-66) :

Fear and chaos was rampant in Quel'Thalas as the king’s heir departed to combat the Scourge under the command of the alliance. The High Elves, now renamed Blood Elves to honor their fallen, waited desperately for salvation from the wretched nightmare that was the reality of the aftermath of the invasion. Despite Lor'themar's being named regent of Quel'Thalas in Prince Kael'thas' absence, there was little that could truly be done for the population in its weakened and mana deprived state. The scourge still endlessly defiled their land, and the now jaded Leoren refused to stand idle and watch his kind be hunted down like animals.

Using what hold he still had over the light, Leoren joined the struggle to fight back the Scourge and defend his countrymen. No longer did he command the holy light with the same passion and vigour as he once did, its light dimming in his hands with each passing day. What he was now lacking for in strength from the divine, he made up for with an unrelenting passion to accomplish his will. Leoren would even rise as a controversial figure of some notoriety among some of the survivors for his deeds. He ushered his grim crusade with a blood red tabard, its color presumably chosen to honor those who fell, marked with a black symbol. Why he chose that symbol, nobody knew. Thus born was "The Dead Scar Saint", bearer of the ebon cross. It was not just a title resulting from his rescuing countless Sin'Dorei from the verge of death through the power of the light, but also a dark and veiled reference to what he'd do with survivors who were beyond the point of saving. Those whose diseases he could not cleanse or mortal wounds he could not adequately heal were outright slain, usually by beheading, on the spot. There were no exceptions, not even children. This morbid combination of mercy and ruthlessness caused much of the public who encountered or heard of him to differ in opinion on his character wildly, some hailing him as a hero, many more as a monster. What tales that still circulate around him during this period constantly reflects this conflict.

Eventually through the combined resilience of his people, society began to re-establish, Silvermoon's walls rising once more. Zelaine's whereabouts were made known to her brother as lines of communication became more stable. She had followed Kael'thas' armies as one of the magisters to fight with his numbers, but was one of the many Blood Elves who did not escape human persecution in the Prince's immediate company with the aid of the Naga. With the aid of a small band of like minded individuals he had befriended throughout defending the scar, he launched a successful rescue for her and several other captive Sin'Dorei as they hijacked the prison ship they were being transported on just off the coast of Menethil Harbour. The ship was burned, and no humans were left alive. For a man who was renowned for his mercy, Leoren showed them none in his retribution. He and Zelaine returned to Silvermoon to help their people's efforts to rebuild, a task met with much adversity for the survivors over the months.

Knight of Silvermoon (Age: 66-68):

Blood Elven society had finally begun to rise from the ashes like the phoenix of their legends, the nation looking more and more like one with each passing day. Although the light had abandoned its people, the city's wizards devised a process by which the powers of the Light could be transferred to recipients who had not earned such abilities.

The Blood Knights, now lead by the former priestess Lady Liadrin, were the first to bend the stolen powers to their will. Leoren's own hold on the holy light had completely dissipated throughout the gruelling years of defending the Scar. Leoren the Valiant, paladin of the light was no more. Believing himself an empty shell of a man he once was, he saw their ability to wield the naaru's light given powers with hope to reclaim what it was he felt had been taken from him without reason. The Knights, fully aware of Leoren's reputation, welcomed him into their ranks. As they had expected, he adapted to their teachings with extreme proficiency and versatility, the light's immense power being no surprise to him. It would not be long before he would excel as a Knight Champion of their order, bending the will of the light as a weapon and shield in service of protecting those around him.

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Present Day:

Leoren to this day can often be seen patrolling dutifully along Silvermoon's streets, ever ready to uphold his duty to defend his city and people faithfully. He displays a plethora of different colors and aspects of his former lives, often being unpredictable even for those closest to him. Concerning his history, he is usually reserved and rarely speaks of it. Most do not recognise the Knight as "The Dead Scar Saint", the symbolic tabard replaced with that of the Blood Knights' and many assuming the iconic figure had either died or was simply an urban myth.

A participant to many tales and stories of heroism and villainy, he is a man constantly torn between doing what he feels is right and giving into the darkness of circumstance. He may desperately want to believe in the light as he did once so long ago, but everything that has transpired in the recent years to his people and himself doesn't afford him the luxury to hold on to that hope. It would seem an inevitable crossroad lays before him; Whether he finds his own definition of redemption or only continues to further damn himself as he upholds his devil's duty is anyone's guess.

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(( Original thread and alternative version thanks to Nymare: http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=7857 ))

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I had the fortune to meet this man shortly after arriving in Silvermoon. He was very striking in appearance, and beneath his gruff exterior seems to be a man of honor and power.

Leoren helped me travel to Westfall while I was learning how to train my bat, in order to gain the servitude of a Fleshripper. We swam from Grom"Gol to Longshore, and I cannot even count the amount of times he saved my life that day. We were also able to talk, and I get the idea that he isn't a very close friend to my father. I hope whatever troubles they have do not follow through to me, as I found him both interesting and attractive, and I hope to see him again.

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I knew I've met him somewhere already! He grew up in Dalaran too! Oh... yeah, it sucks that he was the strange kid no one really cares about, I can't imagine how that's like... *changes subject* But at least now he is has grown in what seems to be the greater male of my race. It seems at first, at least, since I could not read any sign of weakness in him, and I am quite good at that. Maybe he knew Prince Kael'Thas?

Well, anyway, I surely hope we meet again, for we talked at the Ball, for a bit. Did I mention my date was her sister? Oh, boy... he wasn't too happy about that... *and drifts off, gossiping*

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(( FINALLY! <3 You rock my socks Leo))

My Brother is an amazing man. I owe him more then I will ever be able to repay. He is a hero of the hightest degree. He does far too much work sacrificing himself over and over for people who pay him not nearly enough respect. Leo is eaisly one of the greatest men you will ever have the pleasure to meet.

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"I had heard about him before, but about a week ago, I had finally seen him. It was in Orgrimmar in front of the bank!"

*Slaid grins eagerly and prattles on excitedly*

"He looked so cool up on his armored horse! And he seems really nice and he looked really... ah... official looking...!"

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His face is a mask, his armor a shell to guard himself almost as fiercely as he guards his brethren. At first glance, one might see nothing more than a statue of obsidian plate keeping solemn watch over his broken city, but when the wind blows just right, you can hear it whisper through a soul beneath it all as deeply moving and fearsome as the night.

Yet, for all his dark armor, he still burns brightly as a beacon in defense of his people, with a frightening retribution and selfless devotion to duty that would break a lesser man. I cannot even begin to imagine what he has seen in his life to build the shield which he holds up to all the world, one which he carries with the unfailing strength of his convictions, but if even one word from my lips could take it all away, I would say it... though I do not think he would let me. Instead, he has allowed me behind his high-built walls to see the beauty and terror which lives beyond them.

As for what he has become to me, what he has shown me... no words will ever be enough. By my side, he is my equal. In his embrace, he is my armor. In all things, he is my Love.

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Itakae's expression goes blank upon hearing the name.

"Ah met Leoren on many occasions, 'e be a good frien' a Xenaken," She goes silent, trying to collect her thoughts. "Ah know 'e don' trus' me, and Ah can say ah don' blame 'im, but 'e be a frien' a Xenaken, sah ah suppose ah give 'im a chance, if 'e do da same fah me."

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"Oh him? He's a cutie.. a little bit of a ditz if ya ask me though... he didn't seem ta know how ta hold a simple conversation! Seriously, talkin' to a pirate wench like me can't be that hard!"

Xara giggles.

"... Though conversation's overrated anyway..."

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A great warrior. Defender not only of his kind, but the Horde as well. I would fight at his side any day. Hell, I'd follow him into battle any day, and not many can claim that.

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What I hear about him are rumors, but as they say, smoke can't exist without fire. I met him once though in the Orgrimmar auction house and we spoke a little. He is definitely a grim person.

He failed to realize that there is a constant flow of information everywhere, and that was how I know a little about him. I suppose non-rogues will find it difficult to understand and comprehend the cloak-and-dagger side of the world. Especially the information-flowing-everywhere part

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* Skafloc rises from the interview chair to stalk the room, his pace fluid and feral. He pauses at the window, gazing out over the city of Silvermoon. Below in Farstrider's Square the young rangers were running through their marksmanship drills under the watchful eyes of their masters. As he watched he could hear the fidgetting of the goblin interview behind him.

A conspicouous figure rounds the corner of the square below mounted on his gold plated steed. Champion Vranesh led his mount purposfully close to where the rangers trained, pausing to regard them for a moment. The disdain on his face was obvious even from this height. The rangers deliberately ignored him. There was no love lost between Ranger and Blood Knight, the two orders sharing the same quarter of the city as their headquarters. *

"It must be no end of irritation to Liadrin and her minions that the square is named after the Farstriders, the senior order." thought Skafloc. "Perhaps when the Blood Knights have served their people for the thousands of years the Farstriders have upheld the honor. When their lineages can be traced back through a hundred generations they may earn their own little alleyway to call home."

" Leoren Evershine." Skafloc said finally, catching the golblin by surprise as he picked up his pencil to scribble furiously.

"We could have been staunch brothers at arms. Respected allies. Indeed, at a time not to long ago we were comrades, fighting under common banner against common foes. We could have been more, brothers in more than just service in arms. But the world had a way of spiraling into the abyss if regrettable deeds and words are given free reign. He presents a stoic presence to the people arround him, but his actions and motives are driven by inner passion, that is plain to those who take the time to study the man."

* Skafloc turns from the window. Below the Champion has ridden off, while the rangers turn to face his retreating back with unreadable expressions. *

"That is all I have to say."

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"He is a good boy, that Leoren. His elders must be proud of him for being such a no nonsense young lad." Rannoch pauses to scratch his chin inquisitively, "..but I imagine his leadership position keeps him from having such freedom... We never did get to finish that tour of Silvermoon with my mate. I still get lost in that city..."

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I like Leoren. He is an honorable man, and very strong. Having been on the receiving end of his blows, I can safely say that I feel bad for those he fights.

My only problem with the man is that he lets his emotions guide him too much. I have been the same way, and so I can sympathize with this. I think that in time, once he learns to harness himself to order, that he will be a valuable asset to the Horde. I also know that he has a gentle part to his soul, and underneath his gruff exterior, he seeks to bring himself and others happiness. He is truly a man of chivalry.

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Leoren is one of the few, true valiant men in this world, especially rare among the new order of Blood Knights. I don't know too much else about him, but I know he holds deep to his duty as a protector and to those he cares about, even though that is face harder to see.

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Leoren is really good with the ladies.. There's too much to say about him. If he wasn't always busy I'd wanna make him mine.. But then he'd run away too. I'd rather not have him run away.

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*sighed sadly at the mention of Leoren*

Heh, I know this blood knight well...more then he could ever know. It is odd how he did grant me some means of comfort. I remember staring out from the scryer tier I remember being broken by Sinaku the night before. I remembered hearing the flapping of wings behind me.

Leoren rode up on this massive dragon and landed behind me, I felt it was over...the cat and mouse game. He had me cornered. Of course I accepted him to question me next, which he did. Throughout that time his words blurred through my though, it was already over Sinaku had gone to far last night. I had nothing to answer for..but I had much to heal inside. Leoren found me to be upset and unable to answer most of his questions and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

The knights are...capable of compassion? I thought to myself, I ran quickly from him then feeling guilty for all that I've done.

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Hmm i remember seeing you before but where?

<Thinks about it for a few moments>

Ahh yes now i remember you were near the dead scar in Eversong with another Sin'dorei

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*grumbles something about Sin'dorei* Probably after my head like the rest of the Blood Knights, Until I'm stronger I'll have to avoid crossing his path... hmph... figures

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((Dyiana))

"I saw him talking to Miss Xaraphyne once... he acted a bit weird, but not in a bad way."

*The young priestess smiles lightly, then looks a bit worried...*

"...I can't really blame him... but with some things that have happened, I don't think he'd like me being around very much..."

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"One of the best friends a Tauren could ask for. Leoren stands for everything that is justice in the Horde, and even was going to report me back when I was on the run despite being a friend. He covered for me though, and even if he had I would respect him for it. I've not seen him so often since he and Nymare got together though, but he seems happier somehow. Though I can't help but wonder how it started that he is, apparently, a 'ditz'."

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Naheal turns to face the person speaking of him. "Yes, I know Leoren. I've had the pleasure of meeting him previously and have yet to find any reason to distrust him." He smiles. "It seems that he understands fully the reason for the Blood Knight's formation, for which I am greatful. It's unfortunate that I haven't had much time to speak with him personally, as I feel that I may learn a great deal from this man."

Naheal meets the eyes of the person. "The Blood Knights are here to protect our people, and that is what he and I choose to do. Treat him with respect, and you recieve it in turn. Light bend to your will."

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Raina smirks, shouldering her blade for the moment.

"Ah, Leoren, one of the few blood knight's that I'd prefer to have at my side in battle instead of keeping me on my hooves full time. We've met only once in defense of Halaa, but I'd enjoy the chance to fight side-by-side with him once more."

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"A gallant nobleman. I can remember only a small fragment of time of our joyous adventures. If only the friendship we shared back then could still be the same today. I do not think he enjoys my presence much more than he enjoys the Cartel's, and because of my faults, things seemed to have diminished now. I can only hope that maybe with some granted forgiveness that our friendship can return. I do truly miss my dear friend."

The voice faded from the mistress's voice, and she bowed lightly, before turning to leave, fixing a heavy cape shrouded around her shoulders and her bodice.

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