Falkoen Moonshadow

"That's not how the story is supposed to end..."

Falkoen Moonshadow is an elusive Kal'dorei, not often seen by many, save for when he wants to be seen. Current head of the Moonshadow family of Winterspring, he makes home in either Darnassus, Winterspring, or Ashenvale (depending on his mood). His most prominent home, as he has often said, is "where ever port may be," much of his time at sea or in the Kal'dorei homelands. He currently is the head of a little known group called the Harmonious Accord.

"Where ever port may be" often has often proven to be, for the most part, Elven (of any kind), Draenei, or Goblin port, known in small trading communities and the Steamwheedle Cartel as a usual trader of skins, furs, and herbs from all corners of the world. Given recent events, a majority of his material comes from Northrend.

Conception (-1,396 to -1,395)
Roughly a millenium and a half ago, possibly less, Falkoen was born out at sea aboard a ship known as the Estrinal, a Kal'dorei vessel that had set sail from the shores of Auberdine to Feralas. His father, Argose Moonshadow, had left from Winterspring in hopes of opening trade with the elves of Feralas, their herbs a much needed resource in the frozen lands he called home with the rest of his clan. Easily, him and his hired crew had landed on the shores of Feathermoon Stronghold, and there they stayed for months, trapped from the summer's swelling storms.

While there, his father sustained injuries aboard the vessel that would have normally left him without the use of his right arm; however, that was evaded with the healing aid of one of the isle's druids, one Luniel Silverpetal. At first, due to his clan's traditions, Argose was reluctant to accept any form of help the druidess, magic not a usual custom in his family, though he accepted her help, knowing he would be able to continue to fight for his family.

Soon enough, the swordsman found his heart to be with the druidess, and she was more than happy to give him her own. As the storms weekened and the herbs were collected, Argose was to set sail for Auberdine once again before heading back to Winterspring, but not without his new bride-to-be, seven months pregant with their son.

Tragedy struck along the trip home, a storm catching Luliel with a deathly illness that left her dead after child birth. Grief stricken, Argose took his child and returned to Winterspring, hoping to keep the boy hidden within the family home, and away from the grief and horror of the world outside.

Youth (-1,395 to -1,270)
Growing up without a mother, Falkoen was stressed under the watchful eye of his father, trained in the ways of proper ettiquette and of proper schooling. So clinging to the only family he valued, Argose was careful to make sure his son would never lead a dangerous lifestyle, and the unaware Falkoen was quick to agree, reveling in the worlds of proper ettiquette and education. He was quick to excell in his fields of interest, wasting little time with trival subjects such as science (his people valued this little, looking more to nature) and focusing more in history, literature, and mildly in mathematics. He had a particular nack for languages, quick to bury is nose in books and in any travels who happened to speak in such tongues, doing his best to master any that should come his way, his first tongues, save for Darnassian, being Troll and Taurahe, as they were the easiest to access.

Inquisitive and ever curious, it was rare to find the boy without a book in his hands, reading on his people's past, of all elven history, trolls, regions, legions, magics, anything he found even the slightest bit interesting. It was here he gained a nack for theatre and the finer arts, soon taking to writing on his own and sketching on bright Winterspring nights. Alas, the world that his father had kept away from him for so long found itself in plays and novels of adventure, soon becoming the forbidden fruits of his reading, knowing all too well his father's distaste for suck things. Hidden from his father's grasps, the elf had a hundred years of knowledge flowing into his mind, and an ever growing need to explore.

Young Adulthood (-1,270 to -1,000 )
Reaching his juvenile years, Falkoen's desire to travel grew more and more, often asking his father questions about new places, beyond the borders of Winterspring. He had longed for more, often insisting it was for the growth of his education, to know all he could know. Unable to put off the arguments any longer, his father had finally cracked and opted out for a new method, proposing to send the boy to Eldre'Thalas to advance his learning. The family held no particular grief for the Higbourne people for their use of the arcane. To this, a young Falkoen agreed, soon setting out with his father for the Highbourne city in Ferelas.

Traveling by boat, Falkoen had acquired his first taste of true sailing, something his father had hoped to put off for the boy's entire life... however, with the amount of time they have, he knew it to be impossible, and had allowed the trip. This might have been his first mistake in his plans to keep his boy in what he had called his idea of safe. Falkoen had loved, more so than the destination, the trip itself, delighting in the smell of salt and ocean greeting him, spending a majority of his time on deck. Often, he had been found doing things out of his normal characteristics, his curiosity wild as he wished to climb the robes and decks of the ship. More than once, he had been brought below deck to his father with new injuries and bruises, to which he was scolded greatly. Little mattered though, since, for the first time in his life, he was now the adventurer he had read so much about.

Alas, his trip came to an end in time, arriving in Eldre'Thalas, where he had learned of things his peple had been so quick to over look, speaking more of demonic and arcane magics, now learning of ley lines and portals that the Elune and Malorne worshippers were quick to dismiss as an evil study. Still, day after day went by, his memories of the salt and air reaching his nostrils as he spend his evenings studying out by the shores of Ferelas. There, he had made a friend in a Higbourne by the name of Delinous Brightwood, someone who became a good friend, and later trouble maker, to the Kal'dorei. It was through this man that Falkoen learned just how to use his etiquette and intellect to a more charistmatic point, slowly developing into what could be called a suave, smooth, and confident individual.

Sadly, tragedy struck over his learning in Eldre'Thalas, months after his arrival coming with news of his father's return trip to Darnassus going sour as a typhon struck, the ship and its crew being lost at sea. Never was anyone confirmed dead, only bits and pieces of the ship itself returning to shore. Death was rare to hear of in elven culture beyond the an honorable death on the battlefield, since lives were long lived and rather enjoyed; however, despite the lose, Falkoen was old enough now to understand the cycle of life, no matter how cruel. Mourning was a horrid thing to do, in his opinion, when his father's life might be celebrated. As far as Falkoen was concerned, he was left to himself now, a grown man. It was now that he'd be able to finally be the adventurer whom of which he had idolized for so long, leaving Eldre'Thalas in the year of -1,200, moving out to explore Kalimdor as he had always desired, both on land and at sea.

One thing in this time managed to pull the elf away from his travels, and that was the War of the Shifting sands, only having found out about it by chance, hearing word from a travel group of Tauren who had been moving North to avoid the coming war. Seeing those who many need his aid, he made his way south, in hopes of giving the Kal'dorei people a chance to prove his use.

Adulthood (-1,000 to 30)
While within Kalimdor of the time of the War of the Shifting Sands, Falkoen chose not to put himself into the front lines of the war, he took a step forward, moving behind the enemy lines and learning what he could, which was far from anything productive for the Cenarian Circle's needs, a majority of the enemy forces under the sands and behind long impermiable walls. What little he did manage to bring back to the Cenarian Circle was of little help, their leader, Fandral Staghelm, proving to show no trust in the rogue for his time in Eldre'Thalas (even wishing him to head to the front lines just for the possibility he may fall in combat). He didn't see much fighting, working with the Cenarian people in terms of offering what council he could, though it was seldom his words were often heeded, Staghelm's bias proving to be an effective stonewall to his efforts.

Upon the retreat of Staghelms forces into Un'goro Crater, seeing no one found any council or desire for his aid, he left his mark in the war and left before its end, believing he could do more good in helping those affected by the war at home, or helping those who had been injured in the war itself. The only other war the elf willingly participated in was the battle at Mount Hyjal during Archimonde's assault, the lands of Hyjal so close to his homeland of Winterspring.

The Moonshadow family didn't even make it into the lands of Hyjal, dealing with the demons to the south. The elf grew to have a strong hatred for demons, the normally winter clad lands in a rare period of spring from the demonic advance. The peace and beauty of the snow was broken in the southern valleys of the region, now melted and smoking with the death the demons brought to the land. Falkoen described the scene in one of his story tellings, "It was as though the land itself died from their very presence... the snow melted, the plants died, and small gysers of poisonous smoke rose from their presence. It made me sick to see such a thing." The Moonshadow family, along with others, worked to hold the demons back from advancing, holding their advance until they fell back after Archimonde's defeat. Unable to purge the demons entirely, the family now watches over their numbers carefully, waiting for change in their actions, but unable to fully act. With the threat of demons at bay, the offer to join the Alliance was presented to the elf, to which he refused, but still offered what help he could.

Falkoen, now, has done as he had wished to for years and years of his adolesecent life. He has sailed the seas and expored all of the far corners of the world, often running into trouble along the way, in the form of pirates, hostile islands and ports, storms of epic proportions, and so on. Yet, he has also found himself amongst good friends and welcoming nations, even finding himself mixed amongst those some of his people would call enemies, both in the Horde and in the Alliance. Along his trips, his languages multiplied, learning to speak over ten languages in his life.

He has become a master of merchantile affairs, and an expert in story telling and weaving, his knack for writing often flourishing out while he is at sea, as well as his love for art and music. He often delights in sharing this with others. His writings, in particular, are something he prides beyond most. Now, hundreds of years later at a healthy, young age of 1, 424, Falkoen Moonshadow looked over the world with more curiosity and questions then ever, finally having mastered his training in the arts of stealth and disguise, using them completely to his advantage, doing his best to solve all conflicts he could that he found in need of his aid, often whether he could help or not.

Recent History (30 to Present) - World of Warcraft


Working on it.

== Appearance==

Standing at a rough seven and a half feet tall and weight around three hundred and eighty-four pounds, Falkoen is a tall, lean man, built for agility and flexibility, often displayed by his almost overly exaggerated greeting gestures and combat style, often giving a visual flare if he can help it, treating most moments as though he were on stage, trying to impress his audience. To most, he simply appears to be a toned Night Elf, somewhat on the tall side of his race.

He's not lost to the usual elven beauty, often looked upon as a dashing, handsome young man, standing straight at most times, his speech articulate and clean, easy to understand by most. His face, save for one unusual scar that runs over his right eye, is left unmarred by the passage of time, clean and well cared for, maintaining his handsome visage, framed with a full, dark colored beard along his jawline. Though some may consider this a usual trait of his race, among his own people, he can even be viewed as more handsome than usual for a male of their race.

Once more true to his bloodline, his skin is a darker blue, his indigo hair reaching down to the middle of his back, often taken by him as a symbol of his pride, more care going into the maintenance of his midnight blue locks than his face. Very seldom is he ever heard of cutting the lengths, even reluctant to give minor trims to keep the ends healthy. A small, green feather can always be found in his hair, tipping the end of a long, thin braid, hidden within his indigo tresses.

As for his body itself, it's littered with various scars that have (inevitably) found their way onto his skin over the years. Several line along his arms and back, more so than his legs and front of his chest, having enough wit and skill to dodge or parry most forward coming attacks. Ironically, despite being a rogue, he himself is rather easily targeted from the back, leaving him with several scars and marks along his form, most of which appear to be clean swipes from bladed weapons.

Lastly, one would be hard to not notice his pearly white, illuminated eyes, glowing brightly on his face, another sure sign of his heritage. Silver eyes, commonly, mean a normal lack of druidic prowess among the Night Elven people. Though this is the normal, exceptions have been known to arise, such as Illidan's golden eyes and his lack of patience for druidism and Malfurion's silver eyes and his amazing excellence in the field.

Personality
The best way to possibly describe Falkoen's mentality would be that of either a balancing scale or a charismatic enigma, depending on what you've concerned yourself with within his mentality.

He isn't the most intelligent being in the world, but his intellect is impressive, often having attained more knowledge than most would like him to have from his usual moments of spying within the cities of the Alliance. Rarely is he seen using this knowledge for his own personal gain, however, suggesting he looks on at others in hopes of gaining a better understanding, showing his curious fetish for seeking more and more knowledge.

Due to his desire to expand his understanding of everything around him, he is not one quick to take a side in an arguement, often exploring all aspects of both sides of an arguement, attempting to find the positives on both sides of the spectrum. Rarely will he definately choose a side of any war or dispute. Often, he will not stand ignorance with those around him, pitying those who are unable to think how another side of an arguement may be better, forsaking those who choose before knowing all of the facts. If a dispute is too far out of hand, he often may feel obligated to put himself between all the sides to "absorb arrows" being shot between them, working at a solution for them both so everyone might be (somewhat) satisfied. This is a self destructive trait he has recognized, taking burdens not his own onto his shoulders, but he finds himself unable to stop himself at times.

Beyond his sense of morality, his personality can be split into two categories: the man in the mask and the man out of the mask. In the mask, he is a silent stalker, taking his art of spying rather seriously, having mastered all possible ways to make himself almost untrackable, save for by the most estute and observant of hunters. He is all business when in what he would call his uniform.

Out of the mask, he is a rather laid back Kal'dorei, an artist and romantic at heart, often delighting in making women blush or speaking with the fairer gender in general. He seems to enjoy the company of woman over men, his explaination being, "When was the last time you heard a man speak of art, love, beauty, emotions? I revel in a woman's ability to be so emotionally open... men are too closed off, often are too bull headed, and are only interested in who is bedding who." This mindset often has earned him the title of a sexist to his own gender, though is more than aware that women can display these traits as well. Despite his own explaination, many have their own assumptions of just why he enjoys female company.

All of his self sacrifiing and artistic nature doesn't come without its flaws, though some would call throwing himself into a fray is a flaw in itself. He is a vain man, his artistic drive often favoring what is more aestheticly pleasing around him, thus explaining a bit more of his reasoning for enjoying female company over men. Along with this, he is sometimes overly emotional, often going into boughts of excessive happiness, sometimes immediantly followed by a deep, looming depression. He is also a one track minded man, often being consumed with whatever has his attention for the moment, often neglecting everything else that may concern him by his own inadvert zeal.

Quotes
"Immortality lost is immortality worth hunting for. What we have lost is only savored upon retrieval of such, and its true value comes to us like a maelstrom to a dingy at open sea. I may not have been around for even 1,500 years, hardly worth mentioning for the tens of thousands we have been on this earth, but even I can understand the value of such. Not even 1,500 years... to me, I have plenty of time to regain what we originally had, one way or another. The question is, how can do I so without losing myself along the way?"

"I don't give promises. There are few I rarely keep. Rather than do that, I make statements."

"That's not how the story is supposed to end..."

"You're under the assumption I was attracted to you for your beauty. I'm more interested in what flaws you're trying to hide with that beauty of yours."

"Admittedly, I am a vain man. I like to look good, and I like other people to look good. It is a flaw I have come to accept, sadly... and I apologize for that."

"An artist is always striving for perfection, for beauty, for something more. I am never satisfied with my own work... however, the day an artist is truly satisfied with their work, they need not make anything more... I suppose that means I'll be working for a very... VERY... long time."

Out of Character Notes
This page is being updated constantly, looking for errors and the like in timelines. If you have any criticism, please give it. I can always use something constructive.

Due to his background, though he may prefer the company of the races of the Alliances, he does find company in some of the Horde races more welcoming than others. He will always find a troll or blood elf more welcome company than he would a brash and zealous paladin of Stormwind. Cross faction RP is a 'yes' with this character, and is quite possible with the aid of AIM and/or MSN. If you'd like to RP, and you're cross faction, just ask for my screen names.

I avoid RPing out combat, if I can help it, since I find it to usually end in whoever can God mod better. I would be taking levels into account as well (more than likely using the rolling system, where roll + level = your attempt). No level 17 is going to beat a level 70+. That's impossible in my book. Other than that, all forms of RP are more than welcomed, ranging form the most simple to the mature.

RPing is an art to me, a fun art. It's as though you're writing a story with the aid of others, thrown in with pixelated acting. How much more fun can it get? Treat it with respect to the lore.

Important Notice:

If you cannot seperate the difference between roleplay and real life, then do NOT come to me for RP. It has been my experience that people have a rather hard time seperating in character and out of character on Moon Guard. I am not Falkoen IRL, nor are your QQer X IRL. You play a character, it doesn't play you. That would be about the same as getting pissed Master Chief died from being ambushed by The Flood or Brutes (Halo reference).

I can understand a mild bit of OOC going into IC. If you've had a pissy day and you come online, maybe your toon wants to be mad because he's had a bad day as well. I get that; however, do NOT go the other way around. If you have a problem with me IC, keep it IC. If you have a legit OOC problem with me, talk to me, I'm a pretty nice guy, I'm sure we can talk it out. I've had to deal with too much conflict from an IC arguement going OOC, and I refuse to deal with it anymore. I play to have fun, not be bitched out by someone who I may never even meet IRL.

== Fan Art ==