Name: Terrorsane Al’Shad
Title: Twilight Vanquisher
Affiliation: Chaotic Good
Occupation: Drifter
Background: Born Eol Al’shad to a family of sea hunters and ship builders before the war of the ancients. Eol’s father vanished in a fishing accident after his ship capsized after running aground.
During the height of the war, Eol’s Uncle evacuated his surviving village out to sea to escape the marauding Fel Hounds under the command of a Fel Guard of unusual cunning and determination: Ar’Ghatan.
Ar’Ghatan’s mission was to round up the Night Elves with dormant magical competence and sever their souls for arcane uses. Ar’Ghatan accomplished this by having illusions or spells of transformation cast upon his Fel Hounds, and Demonic Bats, disguising them as coastal game: Crabs as Fel Hounds, Seagulls as Demonic Bats and Bloodfiends as mice; to encourage unweary elves to stumble upon or go after them.
Of course, there was no way Eol’s uncle Sarumoss could have detected the demographic presence seeping into his ship as cruel, and inexplicable transactions were becoming transparent in their village. Sarumoss, a druid initiate and fisherman, began rounding up as many relatives and friends he could secure from the marauding and devouring Demons.
To avoid tainted food in the town, Sarumoss hibernated the local crabs and mice in mass to use as food onboard his fishing boat. Eol was tasked with caging and collecting these hibernated beings. After setting to sea under the echoes, screams and shadows of the demonically consumed village, Sarumoss set sail to the north east by east to escape the horrors of their self destructing society. As the hours turned to days Eol and the survivors began to turn towards the hibernated game as their hastely collected grains and water were running out; unaware that some of the caged animals and crustaceans were infact temporarily transformed demons, many began to clean them and feed.
One by one, consumed for hunger, some for fun, the demonic mice and crabs made their way into the belies of their unsuspecting company. As the days past and the wind fell slack, drifting in the northern sea, the crew of the fishing boat began to turn. Twisted writhing cannibalizing Elves, relatives and friends were beyond recognition, beyond reason, judgement and fear.
One of Eol’s relatives, a cousin he dread to remember their name, eyes boiling and aflame, devoured the flailing hands and skull of a neighbor as they were awaking from sleep.
Screams, shattering ans deafening fel Howls from below, the same howls and life rending, ending sounds for which they had fled their town, their world began to abound around.
Eol’s uncle, paralyzed with trauma, grief and fear since the voyage began, slowly regained his sense like as a drunkin man regains with a concussion. Huddling in horror on the Bow with those strong enough to flee the cabin Eol armed himself with a fishing spear while his Uncle Sarumoss was busy trying to assuming the form of a dark shaggy saber cat. Upon that moment the fore deck was ripped apart from the port side and toppled the fore mast. Sarumoss was incapacitated, surrounded by fel fel Hounds, burning his druidic energies away as if their lives depended on it.
Meanwhile, Eol’s cousin Mandevu was frantically pummeling demented relatives and demons with a split carpenter’s mallet. All the while Mandevu’s father Aguthorn was chipping down demons and villagers alike with a long serrated glaive: staving off the inevitable for his pregnant Wife Stareyes to survive.
At that chaotic moment, a night elf looking demon maliciously ripped Eols spear out of his hands, and bit through his eyes, nose and face like an apple. Sucking out his energies then casting him aside like soiled parchment; he was blind, but he still could see. Energies, great and small, malicious and kind, he could see them all! Fighting or dying; above and below. But Eol could not move, as something, was grabbing him, not from about, but from within.
As the battle on deck trampled upon him Eol did not die. Infact, a flame, cruel, hungering manacing raging force of the demon consumed in mouse form for every bite he took of the demon’d defenseless bones and flesh.
As fallen bodies were burying the young night elf alive, and bathing him in demonic and elven entrails, Eol broke into a gurgling laughter upon the hypocrisy and revulsion upon what had been wrought, by his unwitting and dubious uncle and his menacing demon victim from the skew now battling his soul for control of his autonomy with vengeance unknown.
But Eol could not give in, he could not give in to a bloodfiend that had allowed itself to be turned into a mouse to merely capture and consume him. Then hibernated by a desperate and probably deserting druid. Then skinned unconscious, disemboweled, impaled and spit roasted by elves. Eol dared not dream the scope of the bloodfiend’s revenge. At that moment, as the bloodfiend’s force began to tear through his flesh, its soul was struck crippled by a demented glaive.
The battle was over, Eol had been spared the demented fates of the villagers, but his uncle’s blade was replacing Eols suffering.
“I cannot break this demon for you Eol! Nobody can!” “You have to break him Eol! Break him or tame him or we’ll be your end…”
“STOP! YOU ALREADY BROKEN THE DEMON AGUTHORN! Haven’t we killed enough kinsmen today???”
With his glaive still in Eol’s flesh Aguthorn turned upon his furry brother: “Broken isn’t defeated, it isn’t destroyed! Are you going to be the one who kills him when he starts ripping and eating elves alive in the name of the legion?”
Stareyes: “Aguthorn! If you don’t help Eol I’ll throw myself and this baby over the side! Your already more demon than elf! You should have warned us!”
Sarumoss: “that be not necessarily Stareyes. There’s a wall of wind, water and earth coming…”
Stareyes: "Illuvitar! Save us!!!
Aguthorn: “I’m sorry everyone. I thought eating the demons would be fun.”
Sarumoss: Get your cursed blade out of Eol so we can save him!
As Sarumoss began to a healthy mixture of rejuvenation and tranquility, the ocean began to boil in a rage of its own. Followed by winds that tore the away the masts and sails like twigs and leaves from trees. Soon the five survivors were blssted into what is now the Veiled Sea.
Washed ashore in Kalimdore, and fuelled by dormant bloodfiend rage and energy, a partially healed elf Wondered the land, fearful, but harnessing his wounded inner demon so that he may be prepared for the day that demon’s soul becomes hole. Eol’s fate was terrable, but sane. He repeated this goal, his bane. Eol has forgotten his name, but has remembered his claim: "Sane! Terrible but SANE! I AM SANE!!!
10,045 years later…
Astranaar Sentinel: who goes there!!!
Eol Al’Shad: Terrorsane…