Eratheas Talonvine

heathen | shadestalker | shalla'shan

This character, the artwork and writing therein are creative property of myself (ChrisChroma) and the artists listed. Do not use without permission.

The Shadestalker

As his home and kin burned in the corrupted fel fire that would twist northern Ashenvale into the Felwood, Eratheas would barely escape in time. The kaldorei would travel Azeroth as a monster hunter and mercenary-for-hire, known only as 'The Shade of Felwood'. Armed, at this time, with a halberd and his nightsaber, Y'rnea, the mercenary would eventually return to Ashenvale when news of the Sentinels opening their ranks reached him. A life long dream fulfilled, he thought.A dream shattered on the shores of Darkshore. When this shade recalled an old family secret, performed in desperation. A shade demanding the shadows to cease his need to endure loss. And, the shadows would respond, reaching out and claiming a shade of his beloved nightsaber; to hunt with him once more. A path shrouded in the shadows cast by Teldrassil's flames, this shade became the shadestalker. Now, he and his beasts of shadow seek more worthy hunts.

"The origins of power are meaningless, the intent of how one uses it matters more."

Eratheas now travels with his other half, a beacon of grace and devotion, Lore'ithil Blackcrest. She had managed to rekindle what dying embers of his faith remained. Unfortunately, his skepticism would only embitter Blackcrest's peers, and following her exile for aiding him and others like him, the pair would seek to redeem her honor and enlighten the Lunar Blades to their errors in removing her.The two of them would eventually seek out a fabled group of adventurers, Mythos. Along with the pair, they would travel to Blackrook Hold to participate in tournament held by the Sisterhood. Each round brought with it new challenges, which were met and conquered alongside their new allies. With their final victory, the shade would find no sneers of disgust, faces of those long past aided shouted in praise for him now. They had redeemed Blackcrest in the eyes of the Sisterhood, and the shade had found a haven of outcasts, of those who delve into the forbidden and taboo. Those who make no judgment for his choices, and offer acceptance in return. Eagerly now, does the shade follow the fabled monster hunters, awaiting to see what remains within the abyss of his magic.

Shadow's Gallery

All artwork below was either gifted to, or commissioned by myself. Do not repost or use without permission.

Patches are visual mods only used on Epsilon. These patches were gifted.

Voice Claim

This video was a gift. Do not repost without permission.

Web of Shadows

"When the light fades, it is wise to huddle close to those you trust-
Otherwise you must weather the dangers in the dark alone."

Thasera & Ylrendil Talonvine

parents / mentors / shadows

The kaldorei who brought Eratheas into the world. Both sought to mold and engrain their values into the child as he grew. Ylrendil, his father, hoped his son would follow him on the path of a druid. Many nights were spent nurturing his love and respect for beasts, flora, and the inhabitants of the Dream. Unfortunately, the young Talonvine would never capture the spark or mindset necessary to harness the druidic magics. To the chagrin of his father, the circle would eventually deem Eratheas a lost cause after several failed attempts. In the estrangement of father and son, the Claw would be called to be sealed within the Barrow Deeps to aid the Emerald Dream. Eratheas has not seen his father since.

Thasera, his mother, had been a warrior all of her life. As a Sentinel who served for much of the Long Vigil, she taught Eratheas how to hunt and how to defend himself. She engrained into him the safety of remaining in the shadows, of striking before seen. She would ensure that her son would not wander the world defenseless. Often, she would send her son out to hunt for weeks on end and not return empty-handed.

"The shadow of my mother will forever guide me, she exists now on the whispers of the wind. I'm unaware if my father still draws breath, nor do I care if he does."

Lore'ithil Blackcrest

devout / redeemer / beacon of grace

At Eratheas' lowest point, following the War of Thorns, the pair would have a chance encounter in Val'sharah. A heretic, who had lost any faith within Elune, and had been wandering the Broken Isles as a vagabond mercenary. Lore'ithil stood as a pillar of devotion, having never known a moment of shakiness in it in her time on Azeroth. It spiked a twisted curiosity within Eratheas, how could one witness all that the kaldorei had suffered and remain so devout. Following a near fatal encounter in which Lore'ithil had saved Eratheas, the pair would begin to travel together. Eratheas continues to follow the path of shadows set by his mother, but his incessant arguments and rejections of Elune and Her guidance have waned in Lore'ithil's presence.

"A priestess who fights with the fire of a zealot, yet moves with the grace of a dancer. Standing by her side is the closest I will be to the Moon Maiden's light, and by her side, I will bask in it."

Shalla'shan

The Shadow's Honored

A magic passed down to him before his mother's passing in the War of Shifting Sands. The Rites of the Shalla'shan had been passed through his mother's family between each generation. A morose ritual which had been conducted away from the moon's gaze, for the practitioners wished to hide their acts from Elune, in fear her wrath and shunning.

Y'rnea

the beginning

Long before Eratheas had ever started along the path that had been revealed to him by his mother, he had traveled the lands of Kalimdor with a nightsaber by his side. Y'rnea had been raised as a cub by the fledgling hunter when he was barely an adult himself, seeking a companion for him for the many travels to come. The long life of the saber cat had been cut short in the War of Thorns, yet Eratheas refused to let her memory be forgotten. Now, she may hunt alongside the Shadestalker eternally, as intended.

i do not own this art

original art by dappermouth/jenna barton

Dedaron

the Legion

A raven that has accompanied Eratheas ever since his path had begun in knowing how to call the Shalla'shan to his side and add to their numbers. The Shadestalker is capable of calling forth a full unkindness of Dedaron, capable of harassing foes and adding to Eratheas' mobility.

The Magician (I)

Eratheas had always kept a bundle of raven feathers with him, tied with herbs and a small raven's skull bound in leather. It had been a gift from his mother, one that had come unexpectedly with a lesson tied to it.

The Tower (XVI)

Embers and ash scorch Eratheas’ lungs as he kneels in the clearing. The very forest screams in pain; mournful wails carried by the wind. Hands coated in blood, fingers shaking for a moment before they’re steeled to act. Forced to recall what his mother had shown him. Nails dig into the wet soil, soaked with viscera and rain, a circle is drawn. Three piles of firewood form a triangle along this ring. A ritual of desperation basked in rapidly diminishing moonlight. Incapable of keeping his mind focused, memories of the night repeat as he works.“Eratheas, pay attention.” his mother snapped her fingers to drag the adolescent kaldorei’s attention from the night sky to her. A nearby bonfire roared to life as she fed it a log from her side. Behind his mother, the ritual circle, prepared with far more care and thought than the mockery he attempted now. A massive wolf laid in its center, three smaller bowls full of tinder and aromatic herbs and incense surrounding it. The matronly figure turned away from Eratheas then, stepping to the circle and drawing a dagger from her belt. A chant in a whispered tongue would ignite the bowls in dark, violet flames. The dagger was used to carefully carve the front paw of the wolf free as the chant continued. Each bowl's flame starts to flicker, and whip about as if moved by wind; yet the night was still. The chant reached a climax and as the paw was freed and held aloft, the fires faltered and snuffed, leaving them in the pitch black of the night.More delicately do fingers dig runes along the edge of the circle, and then seek to finish the sigil within the center of the ring. Helmets turned upright to act as makeshift bowls, herbs and incense scavenged from the bodies and the ravaged caravan nearby. As Eratheas lifts the first helmet, a shock of pain from what was surely shattered ribs paused his motion. His grip on the helmet tightens to the point of paling his knuckles as he takes slow breaths to shove the pain from his senses for now. With the incense ignited, he would turn once more to the battlefield. This time, seeking what remained of his companion.As talks of another war became commonplace due to the discovery of azerite, Eratheas had found a twisted excitement build within him at the idea of being on the frontlines. Usually assigned to patrolling the calmer forests under Alliance control, Eratheas’ years in the Sentinels weren’t overly eventful. This time, though, he had been assigned to wait in ambush along one of the many roads from Ashenvale, to cut off supply routes. After the fall of the Wall of Wisps that protected Darkshore, Eratheas and Y’rnea, his nightsaber, would work alongside other Sentinels to destroy Horde supply caravans. Shallow attempts to slow their advance.
This ambush would have gone the same, had the nightsky not been bloated out in the flames and screams of Teldrassil. A decisive victory turned pyrrhic. Every action taken in this war, pyrrhic. His survival, pyrrhic.The body of Y’rnea had been pulled free from the orcish corpse that had fell atop it. He forced his body to move, to rest her within the ritual circle. Each footstep sunk deep into blood-soaked mud, each arm felt as if the very muscle fiber were ignited within. Yet with the utmost respect, the nightsaber is laid before him. Unable to stand, he kneels at the edge of this circle. The chant of his mother from that night burnt into his mind, as vivid as the memory itself. Lacking a dagger, the shattered edge of a blade is dug free from the muck. His teeth clenched tightly as he ensured his grip on the shard, edges that dug into his palm drawing free his own blood. As he’d chant, her front paw was gently taken with the free hand, the blade beginning its work of claiming it.Suddenly the tide of the ambush had shifted, even as the Horde’s numbers dwindled, the kaldorei’s morale had been shaken. Mistakes piled on mistake, sloppy maneuvers fueled by rage, grief, loss, and vengeance. Each one forced another sacrifice. The screams from Teldrassil filled the forests as the fires burned higher. Wracked with grief, as if his soul ached to scream out in anguish with them; his body froze, refusing to move, unsure what to do next. Even as an orc sought to cleave his arm free of his body, it refused to move. As he falls back, the world vanishes into shadow, as Y’rnea gives a final roar.His chanting has grown fervorous. Voice already hoarse from the soot and ash, and yet he chants. He carves free this token to remember his friend, to remember her by and carry her with him always. The ichor that now soaks both palm and paw has lost its origin, mixed thoroughly in this act. The flames within each dented helm waver, flicker and flare as the last of his voice is used in this final desperate plea.“Rest now, in deepest shadow. Y’rnea.”As her name is spoken, the paw is severed and raised above his head as he heaves deep breaths. The flames within the bowls flicker wild before that final roar of Y’rnea echoes from the shadows, as the shadows seem to rise and pounce at Eratheas within the circle, each flame extinguishing at once.

The Path so far

-3237 BDP

Born in the shaded cliffs of northern Ashenvale, in Nordrassil's shadow. Thasera and Ylrindel Talonvine name this child Eratheas, and Thasera's mother rests a weeks old nightsaber beside him. A black coat with a cobalt shimmer, as if made of the very shadows themselves.

Eratheas would join his mother in bidding farewell to his father. As a member of the Druid of the Claw, he had been called to slumber in the Barrow Deeps. Eratheas had struggled and clawed at any chance he could get to join his father's ranks. To become a druid alongside him. Yet, his calling was not in druidism, unable to grasp onto the call of the Dream or whisper with the plant life.

-3000 BDP

-2551 BDP

Eratheas sets off to travel Kalimdor. Not interested in a domestic life serving as a tradesman, he offers his and Y'rnea's services as guards and guides of Kalimdor. He would travel and see much of the lands claimed by the Kaldorei during the Quiet Vigil.

Eratheas receives word of Thasera's deployment to Silithus to aid in the War of the Shifting Sands. The shadestalker would spend the remaining few months with his mother as she prepared for her journey. Eratheas, unaware at the time, would bid his mother farewell for the last time.

-975 BDP

20 ADP

Once more returning from his travels across Kalimdor, the shadestalker would return to Ashenvale when word of an invading force would reach him. During the Third War, Eratheas had join up with other kaldorei who had made up a small resistance force outside of the Sentinels.

Following the losses of the Third War, and the shifting expectations of Kaldorei society, Eratheas saw an opening to follow in his mother's footsteps. As men began to be allowed within the Sentinels, Eratheas would join their ranks.

25 ADP

32 ADP

Alongside the Sentinels of Ashenvale, Eratheas would defend the forests from befalling Felwood's fate, as the Third Invasion of the Burning Legion tears across Azeroth.

Once more the Horde sound wardrums and seek to invade Ashenvale. Eratheas participates in the War of Thorns, and bear witness to the burning of Teldrassil. The cadre of Sentinels he'd grown close to and his nightsaber, Y'rnea, were felled by the Horde. It was the first time Eratheas would perform the ritual taught to him by Thasera all those millenia ago.

33 ADP

34 ADP

In the wake of a new path he'd taken, Eratheas fled from Kalimdor. He would leave the only continent he'd known in search of the Broken Shore. The duties and responsibilities of the Sentinels were left behind, a letter declaring his departure the only sign left for his superiors. His faith in Elune abandoned on the shores of Darkshore, in view of the still-burning cadaver of Teldrassil.

As the repair and rebuilding of Blackrook Hold finishes, the Sisterhood of Elune views it as a perfect opportunity to hold a festival in celebration. A tournament to reminisce on the tournaments of old that were held within Blackrook's walls. This was meant to be their chance to unveil a new sect of the Sisterhood, the Lunar Blades. A group of devout kaldorei juggernauts, meant to act as a tough frontline, and inspirational soldiers to the rest of the kaldorei forces. Eratheas was at odds with many of the Lunar Blades, in their presence due to a belief held by one of their peers, Lore'ithil, that even outcasts of kaldorei society deserve redemption. Alongside a ragtag group of adventurers known as Mythos, the pair would find victory after victory within the Blackrook Arena. In the final bout, the Lunar Blades would reveal a vile plan at the end of the tournament, meant to burn all who might best them in their debut to the public.

39 ADP

40 ADP

Now within the ranks of the band of heroes of Mythos, Eratheas would put an end to his isolated journeys. Camaraderie and companionship offered by those of kaldorei society who understood what it means to be outcasts, exiles, and purveyors of the taboo. The group had been tasked to visit and cleanse the forests of Emberwood, a place wracked by a bizarre plague. Countless battles and skirmishes with the infected and the strange cult built up around it, many of Mythos falling prey to the very same plague that threatened to destroy Emberwood. Mythos would prevail, they would struggle and fight, and they would survive. In the face of faithlessness, infection, and death, they grasped at life and held tight. Struggles of each member borne to the other, the group gains a new understanding of each other. A deeper connection between the members as Emberwood is left with a chance to heal.