History of the Silverleaf Brothers

Between World of Warcraft and my story, Era of Unificaton, there is a lot different between the Silverleaf Brother’s histories. However, I pretty much took the history from Era of Unification, and used it as a precursor as to what happened in the world in World of Warcraft. I made a post on the guild forums about the history behind those three characters, and it seemed to be touching for Bekka, and asked that I leave a disclaimer next time. That made me chuckle, but now has me interested again in exploring the history behind these three characters once more.

Through the forest, he crept. The rustling of the bushes would draw the attention to him, but he didn’t care. He was determined to not be late, yet still evade sight if he could. Eventually, he would emerge from the bushes, at the edge of the mountainside. He would dust his robes off, and look around him. No one around, and so, he smiled. Istalindir had been sneaking around for some time. The parents of the Silverleaf family had always been very particular about the paths their children took. They were of high nobility, protectors of royalty, and they had to display themselves properly. Dorenduil, the youngest brother, caught flak for choosing to go to Capital City and practice in being a Paladin. This displeased their parents, and there was no end to it. Istalindir had fallen in love with one of the women who studied with Dorenduil, a woman named Valaya Goldendawn. He didn’t wish to incur similar ‘wrath’ from his parents, so he kept his relationship with her a secret. On this particular day, Valaya was returning to Capital City to continue her training, and Istalindir was heading to Dalaran, for the same purpose.

“There you are!” she shouted.

Istalindir ran to her, scooped her up in his arms, and lifted her off the ground. Or, at least, that was how it played out in his head. Instead, he attempted to, and nearly threw out his back, and had to set her down quickly.

“How do you walk around in that armor!?”

Valaya giggled, and patted Istalindir on the shoulder before leaning up on her tip-toes, to kiss him on the lips. The two caught up, and enjoyed what little time they had together, on their journeys to and from Silvermoon City. It wasn’t often, as their stints of training would last for months, and they’d get to see each-other for short periods between those sessions. This particular night, would be far different then the other times.

“I have to admit, I’m growing weary of these short visits. And your daughter, she doesn’t even know you! She sees so little of you.”

“I know Valaya, but my parents would never approve of us, and while it wouldn’t change anything between us, I’d rather spare you the stress of having to deal with them. I have no choice, but you don’t have to. Once our training is through though, We can get our own home, and not have to hide any longer. We’ll have all the time in the world. We could live off the shores of Quel’Danas, or even head to Quel’Danil.”

Valaya nodded, though silence would stretch between them. They would keep walking, down the path, till they passed through the gate at the edge of the Elf lands. On the other side, was Northern Lordaeron, and an army of Undead marching down the path from the other end. Amidst their numbers, was a lone man on horseback, with white hair blowing in the wind. An air of chill was about him. Quickly, Istalindir pushed Valaya into hiding. The Undead marched along, and into Quel’Thalas. After a few moments, the two stepped out, and looked after the Army.

“Who was that, and what are they here for?”

“We have to go back. That was Prince Arthas. I thought it was a rumor, but there’s been a plague sweeping through Lordaeron.”

“Valaya, what could we do against a whole army? We should get to Capital City and call for their aide.”

“Ista! If the rumors are true, Lordaeron’s army just walked past us. We have to go back and alert our own armies and prepare for the fight.”

“Alright, alright… Let’s go.”

“Rrraaa!” came a shout from behind them. A Ghoul had lept into the air, and latched itself to Valaya’s back. Other ghouls and geists marched along the path, towards the two.

With the butt of his staff, he dislodged the ghoul from Valaya’s back, then let loose a spray of fire upon the approaching undead. Valaya helped out, lending her powers of the Holy Light towards the thwarting of the Undead. However, more ghouls and geists came down the roads, and eventually, they trampeled down after the rest of the Undead army, leaving Istalindir and Valaya’s bodies laying in the dirt.

Battles rippled across the southern regions of Quel’Thalas, and in Tranquillien, Elvulith stood with many of the finest the Rangers of Silvermoon had to offer. Dorenduil helped the front lines, pushing the Undead back as long as he could. When the abominations stormed through, though, the lines collapsed, and Dorenduil had to fall back. Retreat was called for, but it was too late for some. Elvulith fell there, and Dorenduil retreated with the rest, forced to tell his brother’s wife that her son was dead. She boarded herself up in her home in Goldenmist Village, and never came out. Dorenduil fled to the city, and warned the rest of the Silvermoon forces. They fell back to the Sunwell.

At the Sunwell, everything came to it’s pinnacle. Before the night was through, Dorenduil was wounded, and fell unconscious, but not till after he saw his brother Astalder approach Arthas himself, and with one swing, was struck down.

Through the haze of mist and shadows, Astalder felt something. He had a feeling it wasn’t over, but he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, and yet, he felt no pain because of such facts. Eventually, he would rise, within one of those floating citadels.

With the Sunwell destroyed, the flow of magic, the power and strength it supplied the elves was cut off. Suddenly, Istalindir awoke, and rose from the dirt. There beside him was Valaya. There was no saving her. She spoke of a plague, and he didn’t want her getting infected, or turning into what had killed her. He dug her grave, there at the side of the road, and laid her in it. He charged the grave, then buried her. Then, he felt the craving. The loss of the power of the Sunwell sent him scouring the lands for some sort of power.


The Love is in the Air festival was being held in every capital city. The mirth, the cheer… it sickened Istalindir. He would abandon the city and venture to the Thalassian Pass once more. There, he would kneel before the grave, and lay a bouquet of red roses there at the roads edge, over a slightly charred piece of ground.

Astalder stood in the midst of Goldenmist Village. The spirits of the fallen Quel’dorei from years past floating past him. No animosity would be directed towards him. They saw him as one of them. He walked to the structure that had once been his home. Upstairs, a single ghost lay in the bed, weeping. It was his wife, Lirima, still mourning her son’s death.

Dorenduil sat upon his Argent Charger, surveying the landscape of the region he was in at that point in time. Much like the end of the siege on Silvermoon, he wandered. He didn’t consider himself as part of the Alliance anymore, nor did he consider himself a part of the Horde. He worked solely towards the purpose of the Argent Dawn. Their goals were all he strived for. As such, his life was a lonely one. But, it didn’t bother him, because he no longer wished to feel connected, not wanting to suffer a loss like he did at the Sunwell.

That was my post on the Chains of Fate forums, and that is merely a post made to reflect the attitudes, the personality, and, the mood of these three characters during the Love is in the Air holiday event in game. So, from here, I feel like I’ll make posts to reflect on each individually over a wider stretch of time. I will post them here as well as on the Chains of Fate Forums, because I feel like sharing with a wider group of people. I enjoy getting feedback of all sorts, but the feedback from Bekka has inspired me to continue.


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Filed under Fantasy, Fiction, Gaming, Multiplayer, World of Warcraft, Writing

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