Home
This is the story of a night elf named Silverleaf...
Many decades ago, under the great trees of Teldrassil, I was born. In my earlier years, I lived in the small town of Dolanaar. At first, I only left my house for water and food, scared of the towering trees and forest sounds. But soon, I grew bored of the cottage my family and I lived in, finding myself wondering about the outside world. I would venture out of the house and into the town once or twice each day, meeting new people and making new friends. Soon I was bold enough to stray a bit from the village, learning about the plants and trees. One day during one of my explorations, I stumbled upon a large tree that could walk and talk. He sat me down on his shoulder, high above the ground. He told me a story of the elusive nightsaber named Duskpelt.
"One man went looking for the cat, in hopes of studying it," he had rumbled. "Later, the man's son, a young hunter, went looking for his father. But the only thing he found were bones near a cave." I looked up at the Ancient's crooked face made out of bark, my eyes widened. "The son went into the cave, and snuck up on the beast. With one creak of his bow, the son avenged the father's death, killing Duskpelt. But when he went to go get Duskpelt's body, he found a litter of squirming kittens. He felt guilty, and decided to care for the young sabers until they were old enough to fend for themselves. And from then on, the night eleven hunters and the nightsaber's have always held a close bond."
From that day on, I knew I wanted to be a hunter. As I grew older, I would take camping trips out into the forest, my dagger at hand, just in case. While there I learned about the wild-life and nature's will. I began to take archery lessons, soon exceeding my fellow archeries. At around the age of 134 (About 15 in human years), I made a great achievement. I had finally befriended a nightsaber. She was about medium size, bulky in the shoulders, and had a beautiful striped coat. After a few years together, she would allow me to brush her hair, gently, and it would turn out so gorgeous and silky smooth.
As I turned 203 (About 21 in human years), I decided to leave my small town of Dolanaar and head across the island to Darnassus. Many travelers had come to the village, telling stories of it, but I had never seen it with my own two eyes. After a few days of taking it slow, we reached the gates. Oh, I can remember it just like it was a hundred years ago, so tall, so glorious, and yet still gave great protection.
After about 300 or so years of living in Darnassus, I decided to improve my training as a hunter even further. My boat arrived at the docks of Auberdine. It was an impressive town, very many buildings and fine wood work. But none could teach me more than I already knew, so I decided to travel across the ocean. Sending one last letter to Dolanaar, I glided across the docks to the boat. It looked much different than that of Darnassus’ boat, and a few short, dumb humans walking across the deck. Now, the time I spent on that boat was not the best of my life, but I did gain something great from it. I had learned that the human race was capable of much, and that they were not bad at all. I could tell one human could carry much knowledge (for his puny age at least), and I knew that not just I, but my race in general, had much to gain from allying with them.
Over the next few hundred years, I traveled to many places in search of my passion. It eluded my grasp in the magnificent city of Stormwind, and in the hearty, thick walls of the dwarven city of Ironforge. Now, I most likely would have found the trainer I sought if I had spent more time in Ironforge, but, don’t judge me, I was not a big fan of the mid-calf high, smaller versions of the humans. On my last day there, I had run into a gnome, and, well, as I said before, it was my last day there.
Anyhow, I finally found my teacher in the city of Andorhal. I did not like the city as a whole, because, well, many of the humans thought lesser of me. I did not have a problem with it though, as I knew the humans were sort lived, and sometimes quite ignorant. I was forced to live in the “lesser” section of the city, but I thank dear Elune that I did, because that is where I met the love of my life.
His name was Cerellean Whiteclaw, and he was a master druid. He was tall, pale purple skin, and blue hair. He had a medium chin, a curvy nose (but not too curved) and the palest amber eyes. His lips were thin, and he was very sweet. I lived on the same floor as him, my room was three doors down from his. I learned that he had been hired to kill rats. At first I felt terrible for him, but then I remembered that he was a druid and in his cat form, he would much enjoy it. After a while, we started to see each other during the middle of night. It was a special time, the moon at its brightest, shimmered across the lake’s surface. Our eyes would glow in the dark, and we both had a very feral look to ourselves. It made us feel wonderful, away from humans and the pesky noises of the city. I will not go into the details of our, well, “special night”, but I will say it was the happiest time of my life.
News traveled slow at that time. I do faintly remember the humans having a fit about a certain prince, a certain prince in which I cannot recall his name. They yelled a cried that the end of the humans society was near, but I nor Cerellean gave it much thought. We should have…
The next part of my life is much too painful to talk about. There was so much pain and destruction… I never saw anyone from that city again, including my beloved Cerellean. Many night elves take more than a couple spouses during their life, but I had been sure that Cerellean and I would be together forever. At that time, my faith in Elune had slightly faded away.
I was fortunate enough to have been given more than one thing to remember my love by. The first was a necklace he had given to me. I wore it ever since then, and I still do. The second thing he gave me, was a handsome son. In honor of my love, I named him Cerellean.
The later parts of my life have sadly disappeared. The last thing I remember of my old life, was ironically traveling to Ironforge, and joining a cause that I cannot recall. I do remember the leader though, and occasionally, I will remember one thing about him that leads to more memories being uncovered. Something tells me that I have been through much with this man, and I remember breaking away from my first guild to join his. Somehow, the fact that I had lost faith in Elune connected to the reason I joined him. I remember dark training, and later, much later, I remember traveling to a harbor with him and a few fellow members. Using common sense, I believe the harbor is where I began my transformation into…this…
((Well, that's the end, I was kinda lazy and let the whole dk thing play into "memory loss", so I could end it early heh..I hope you didn't get too bored of my story, alot of other people have much more excitin stories
))
Many decades ago, under the great trees of Teldrassil, I was born. In my earlier years, I lived in the small town of Dolanaar. At first, I only left my house for water and food, scared of the towering trees and forest sounds. But soon, I grew bored of the cottage my family and I lived in, finding myself wondering about the outside world. I would venture out of the house and into the town once or twice each day, meeting new people and making new friends. Soon I was bold enough to stray a bit from the village, learning about the plants and trees. One day during one of my explorations, I stumbled upon a large tree that could walk and talk. He sat me down on his shoulder, high above the ground. He told me a story of the elusive nightsaber named Duskpelt.
"One man went looking for the cat, in hopes of studying it," he had rumbled. "Later, the man's son, a young hunter, went looking for his father. But the only thing he found were bones near a cave." I looked up at the Ancient's crooked face made out of bark, my eyes widened. "The son went into the cave, and snuck up on the beast. With one creak of his bow, the son avenged the father's death, killing Duskpelt. But when he went to go get Duskpelt's body, he found a litter of squirming kittens. He felt guilty, and decided to care for the young sabers until they were old enough to fend for themselves. And from then on, the night eleven hunters and the nightsaber's have always held a close bond."
From that day on, I knew I wanted to be a hunter. As I grew older, I would take camping trips out into the forest, my dagger at hand, just in case. While there I learned about the wild-life and nature's will. I began to take archery lessons, soon exceeding my fellow archeries. At around the age of 134 (About 15 in human years), I made a great achievement. I had finally befriended a nightsaber. She was about medium size, bulky in the shoulders, and had a beautiful striped coat. After a few years together, she would allow me to brush her hair, gently, and it would turn out so gorgeous and silky smooth.
As I turned 203 (About 21 in human years), I decided to leave my small town of Dolanaar and head across the island to Darnassus. Many travelers had come to the village, telling stories of it, but I had never seen it with my own two eyes. After a few days of taking it slow, we reached the gates. Oh, I can remember it just like it was a hundred years ago, so tall, so glorious, and yet still gave great protection.
After about 300 or so years of living in Darnassus, I decided to improve my training as a hunter even further. My boat arrived at the docks of Auberdine. It was an impressive town, very many buildings and fine wood work. But none could teach me more than I already knew, so I decided to travel across the ocean. Sending one last letter to Dolanaar, I glided across the docks to the boat. It looked much different than that of Darnassus’ boat, and a few short, dumb humans walking across the deck. Now, the time I spent on that boat was not the best of my life, but I did gain something great from it. I had learned that the human race was capable of much, and that they were not bad at all. I could tell one human could carry much knowledge (for his puny age at least), and I knew that not just I, but my race in general, had much to gain from allying with them.
Over the next few hundred years, I traveled to many places in search of my passion. It eluded my grasp in the magnificent city of Stormwind, and in the hearty, thick walls of the dwarven city of Ironforge. Now, I most likely would have found the trainer I sought if I had spent more time in Ironforge, but, don’t judge me, I was not a big fan of the mid-calf high, smaller versions of the humans. On my last day there, I had run into a gnome, and, well, as I said before, it was my last day there.
Anyhow, I finally found my teacher in the city of Andorhal. I did not like the city as a whole, because, well, many of the humans thought lesser of me. I did not have a problem with it though, as I knew the humans were sort lived, and sometimes quite ignorant. I was forced to live in the “lesser” section of the city, but I thank dear Elune that I did, because that is where I met the love of my life.
His name was Cerellean Whiteclaw, and he was a master druid. He was tall, pale purple skin, and blue hair. He had a medium chin, a curvy nose (but not too curved) and the palest amber eyes. His lips were thin, and he was very sweet. I lived on the same floor as him, my room was three doors down from his. I learned that he had been hired to kill rats. At first I felt terrible for him, but then I remembered that he was a druid and in his cat form, he would much enjoy it. After a while, we started to see each other during the middle of night. It was a special time, the moon at its brightest, shimmered across the lake’s surface. Our eyes would glow in the dark, and we both had a very feral look to ourselves. It made us feel wonderful, away from humans and the pesky noises of the city. I will not go into the details of our, well, “special night”, but I will say it was the happiest time of my life.
News traveled slow at that time. I do faintly remember the humans having a fit about a certain prince, a certain prince in which I cannot recall his name. They yelled a cried that the end of the humans society was near, but I nor Cerellean gave it much thought. We should have…
The next part of my life is much too painful to talk about. There was so much pain and destruction… I never saw anyone from that city again, including my beloved Cerellean. Many night elves take more than a couple spouses during their life, but I had been sure that Cerellean and I would be together forever. At that time, my faith in Elune had slightly faded away.
I was fortunate enough to have been given more than one thing to remember my love by. The first was a necklace he had given to me. I wore it ever since then, and I still do. The second thing he gave me, was a handsome son. In honor of my love, I named him Cerellean.
The later parts of my life have sadly disappeared. The last thing I remember of my old life, was ironically traveling to Ironforge, and joining a cause that I cannot recall. I do remember the leader though, and occasionally, I will remember one thing about him that leads to more memories being uncovered. Something tells me that I have been through much with this man, and I remember breaking away from my first guild to join his. Somehow, the fact that I had lost faith in Elune connected to the reason I joined him. I remember dark training, and later, much later, I remember traveling to a harbor with him and a few fellow members. Using common sense, I believe the harbor is where I began my transformation into…this…
((Well, that's the end, I was kinda lazy and let the whole dk thing play into "memory loss", so I could end it early heh..I hope you didn't get too bored of my story, alot of other people have much more excitin stories
))
))
