Sholaad is a draenei who follows the path of the Light. He makes his life upon Azeroth since the Exodar crashed upon the Azuremyst Isle. He is well over 25,000 years old and has learned of numerous cultures that exist and have existed. He is an avid supporter of peace among the mortal races, believing only with unification can the True Darkness be stopped. However, this conflicts with his inherent teachings of Justice and Retribution of the Light. As such, he is often conflicted between the Political ramifications of Judging Horde criminals, and the Righteousness in his crusade.
Sholaad is of average height for his people, with a muscular build. He has four horns jutting from his forehead, with long grayed hair. His hair is usually in a topknot, with the rest of it at his back. His face is wrinkled slightly from eons of furrowed expressions. He has four tendrils, two of which reach his chest. Upon each tendril is a cuffling made of golden draenite. He is missing a single finger upon his right hand.
Sholaad was born on Argus, but only lived there for four summers before the flight of the Draenei. He was raised on the Naaru ship for his childhood, his parents Ailm and Eldreen placing good values in their child. Sholaad grew to revere the Light and as all draenei, gained the Gift of the Naaru, allowing some prowess of the Light's Gifts. Yet, Sholaad did not feel the need to train as vindicator, believing his place was with his family, cultivating crops for his people. He became a farmer, learning numerous techniques on numerous ecosystems from the planets the draenei lived. He lived in relative happiness and dreaded the coming of the Legion, taking away the resources and peoples who he interacted with from him.
Sholaad met his life-mate on the Naaru ship, in between flights. Ausmon. That was her name. Sholaad fell in love with this perfect individual. They loved, and fought, and grew to understand each other. Their binding ceremony was pleasant and simple. When the Naaru ship crashed on Draenor, and it became apparent that the Draenei would not be fleeing anymore, the two settled in a small farm in Terrokar Forest, outside of the developing camp Tuurem. They lived a simple and satisfying life. Ausmon became pregnant, and they had two children in this peaceful time. Ailmeen, a boy, named for Sholaad's parents, and Sholmon, a girl, named for her parents. Sholaad loved each of the three with all of his heart. He farmed and worked the land hard to provide for them. He would give them a good life on this planet. Here they would live their lives. He would see his children grow, and choose their own paths. Perhaps one day Sholaad would give his blesssing on his daughter's binding ceremony. Not too soon hopefully, he chuckled.
Sholaad understood life to be perfect on this world, a refuge from the constant fleeing he had known his entire life. The native tribal orcs, brown beastal, yet peaceful, beings, often traded crops with Sholaad, as he began to understand a crude orcish; enough to trade with. He found the beings honorable and shy. While they did appreciate trading with him, they did not persist beyond that. Instead they often hastily left after getting their supply. Sholaad chuckled, hoping one day they would be as curious about his people as he was of theirs.
Life turned as the corruption of the orcs began. Sholaad had noticed a sudden stop in visits from the people, and wondered why. It soon became apparent, as neighboring farms has been ransacked, and hunting parties never returned to trade meats with Sholaad. Sholaad did not understand at first but, fearing for his family's lives, he fled to near Tuurem, abandoning his farm. It did not last long for this sanctuary to become insufficient.
Sholaad was thankful for his farmer's body, strong from hard work. He placed unfamiliar armor on, heavy upon his body, as he volunteered to assist the vindicators in defending the settlement. Sholaad preferred the heavy hammer in his choice of weapon, picking it up and learning the techniques of battle easily enough. When the orcs came, nothing could have prepared him for their onslaught. They rained upon Tuurem like hellfire, their sheer numbers decimating the defenders. Blue and black blood fell upon his body, staining the makeshift armor Sholaad donned. Screams could be heard everywhere, whether it was the battlecries of the orcs or the cut off ones of his people. Draenei by draenei fell near him, as he crushed the skull of a nearby orc (who's skin looked greener for some reason, perhaps the haze of battle playing a trick on the eye). When it became apparent that the draenei would not win this battle, the defenders retreated. Sholaad immediately ran to help his family escape. He came to the hiding spot they agreed to stay in until the attack was over. What Sholaad saw would never dissapear from his memory. Their bodies were mangeled, bruised and slain. Not even his children were spared from the slaughter. He looked upon the horrific sight as tears rained down his cheeks. He begged for them to get up. He picked up his children and wife and held them in his arms, holding them tightly against his body. One of the defenders grabbed Sholaad, and forced him to join the retreating party. "We must go! They are gone! Now come with me before you become one of them!" Sholaad entertained the idea for a second, joining them in the Light.
Sholaad, after much fighting, finally accepted. There would be no good in letting them die, without avenging their deaths. They fled to nearby Shattrath City, the capital of the Draenei. They did not stay there long, as Velen, the Prophet who had originally saved the draenei from corruption, came and told them they must flee. Sholaad wished to stay and fight, desparate for a chance to destroy those who had taken so much from him. But Velen came upon Sholaad and bore into his eyes with his own intimidating orbs.
"No, my child. You have a destiny before you. You cannot forsake it. I can see you have lost much, as we all have. But this is just one stage of our people's future. You must live to realize the second part, my child."Sholaad did not understand, but accepted, defeated. Shattrath was ransaked, its defenders eliminated and sent to the Light.
Sholaad stayed in one of the many camps in the Zangarmarsh. He began to train under the vindicators and slowly began to access the Light's gifts through his teacher Boulstraad the Mighty. He thought upon his lost family, and after some time, finally accepted what had happened, had happened for a reason. There would be no good brooding upon his loved one's death. They would not wish it so, he knew this. So he gave up all his wordly material possessions, or what was left of them, and dedicated himself fully to the Light's teachings. It's presence was the only thing that seemed to fill the void he felt.
When the krokrul, as his people deemed the dazed and mentally inflicted survivors of Shattrath, began to appear in the camps, Sholaad was weary of their transformation. He, as many did, others fled to ignorance, and began to ostrosize the poor beings. Sholaad let go of this prejudice after the krokrul Nobundo, a formerly mighty vindicator, spoke of the powers of the elements. Sholaad knew this to be an orcish magic, and immediately rejected it's teachings. He felt no prejudice of his own people who were krokrul, and even felt pity for them, but he would never indulge the magic, or anything that was the orc's. Never.
A New World
Sholaad trained for decades until he and his people stole the Naaru ship of the Exodar and fled to Azeroth. He helped subdue the bloodelves, odd skinny pink beings with long ears, and defended the draenei that activated the Naaru ship. Somehow the bloodelves managed to corrupt it's systems, and the ship crashlanded. Awakening, body bruised, he looked around, and began to heal the injured. Still a novice, he trained, and became inducted into the Hand of Argus, a Holy Order of vindicators and anchorites. He trained with the Hand until he left the isles to learn of the new world his people now lived. He grew to understand the Alliance, the new Horde and the curious and different races of the world. Leaving back to Draenor at some point, Sholaad returned to Shattrath to find it reclaimed by the Sha'tar. Uplifted and heartened, he joined the Aldor priesthood as a vindicator. He embarked with many regiments across the shattered land. When the illidari threat ended, and the Deciever made his name known back on Azeroth, he joined the new Shattered Sun Offensive. There he fought tooth and nail against the felblood elves.
When the job was done, and the Light blessed the elves' fount once more, Sholaad returned to Azuremyst only to hear of the threats of a Lich King to the north. He embarked yet again, and was impeded in his efforts by the Alliance Generals. Breaking away from formal military, the draenei left to his own devices to help the harsh snowy land. He fought against undead, a new and horrific enemy for the exiled one.
Return to the Hand of ArgusWhen all was said and done, he returned to the isles once more. He took this time to rest his blade, and gain contacts to the Hand of Argus once more. He met with a High Exarch Etonlor, and joined his regiment.Sholaad took this time to serve the Light and his people foremost. He took upon the mantle of neophyte with no qualms despite his age or expererience. Eventually, the draenei receieved the interest of Etonlor, noting his promptness at meetings, his words and his ideas. When the time came, the High Exarch gave Sholaad the Test of the Vindicator.
Test of the VindicatorAs instructed by the High Exarch, Sholaad had to accomplish three goals. The first test, that of Dedication, was a trek by foot to the old Capital of Shattrath. There he would meditate upon the Naaru and the Light for Three Days. Second, the Test of Compassion, the draenei would simply need to help someone. Third, and last, was the Test of Judgement, would be to end a threat to the Light. Sholaad accepted gratefullly, and embarked on his Tests. He made the pilgrimage from the Exodar to the Shattrath in one weeks time. Along the way, he was greeted with odd parts of the Human Kingdom of Stormwind, such as the Duskwood. Roughly half way through his trip, Sholaad made a stop at the Harborage, a refuge for the lost ones and krokul in the Swamp of Sorrows. Years before, Sholaad had helped Magtoor, a krokul for various tasks. When arriving, Sholaad noticed the air of solemn that had overcome this place, quite different from the bustle of the past. He became aware that Magtoor's health was fading, shocking Sholaad to the core. His friend, Anchorite Avuun, sent Sholaad and others in the Harborage on various tasks in a way to help Magtoor. Eventually, however, it became apparent that no reagent or salve or even the Light would save this one from death. So, one the eve of Magtoor's passing, a congregation arrived to send the dedicated krokul to his passing. When it appeared that all was lost, a portal boomed into existence. In came none else but the Prophet himself. Sholaad lit up, surprised that the Prophet, so deep in his meditations of recent, would come for this one krokul's passing. He spoke to Avuun, who shared Sholaad's reaction by the look upon his face. Velen then turned to Magtoor and prayed. Sholaad followed suit. A great Light, bright and warm surrounded Magtoor. It lifted him and grew in intensity. Then he was gone. Sholaad was humbled by this experience. When all was said and done, the draenei left the settlement, sure that the Light had brought him there for a reason.
Sholaad finished his trek unimpeded, even through the Hellfire Penninsula. He meditated upon what he had witnessed in the Harborage those three days. When the High Exarch arrived, he spoke of what he witnessed and what he had done. Surprised, the High Exarch noted he had passed both the test of Dedication and Compassion in a single pilgrimage. He then grew stern, as he usually was, and gave him the final task of Judgement: To end a great Pit Lord that led the forces of Hellfire Penninsula in a recent attack upon the Dark Portal. Off Sholaad went, via gryphon. He landed upon the Stair of Destiny and looked at the current battle. The Alliance and Horde forces, working together fought against an army of demons. He looked upon the orcs in the fight with disgust. But when he saw their dedication, and their ability to work for one Purpose, something changed in Sholaad. He shook his head and darted past the front lines. He prayed to the Light, blessing his blade and Might. He charged head on into the fray, purging man'ari after man'ari. After a long fight, the Pit Lord lay under Sholaad's blade, deep in his throat. He exploded in fel fire, consuming the draenei in the process. The smoke lifted, one could see Sholaad kneeling, blessed by Protection by the Light he served. Sholaad returned the to the Exodar, and spoke of his victory. He was given rank of Vindicator, successfully passing his tests.
Fights and Deaths
Sholaad continued to grow in rank, eventually achieving the title Harbinger. Now commanding the neophytes and acolytes of the Order, Sholaad led the Good Fight against a newfound threat in Outland. Orc warlocks were summoning large amounts of Demons into the shattered world. The Hand rallied the call to end the threat, bringing together a forged alliance of many orders, including that of the Order of the Golden Gear, filled with noble gnomes, The Scions of Argus, a kindred Order of draenei, and the Order of the Sepulchre, a Light blessed Order of Human Vindicators. They fought tooth and nail and ended the threat looming deep within the abandoned Hellfire Citidel.
Yet, the leader of this cult, Khaz'rekar Felshadow, grew infurated by this attack. He sent agents to slay two leaders of the Order, High Exarch Etonlor the Stern, and his brother Ranador. Disheareted by the loss, the Hand would seemed destined to disband and rejoin the greater Hand of Argus.
Sholaad, saddened by the loss of a great leader and a friend, prayed to the Light. When he finished his meditations, he knew what he must do. He knew that this regiment, this band of draenei were destined for greater things beyond simple vindicaton. He knew this regiment would bring upon the Army of Light, a united front of all races and cultures against the Burning Legion.
Sholaad spoke to the Triumvirate and came upon an agreement. Sholaad would take upon the mantle of Exarch, saving High Exarch for only those who truly deserved. it. He would lead this new Order, deemed the Amil il Argus, simply the "Hand of Argus" in his native tongue to see if it could accomplish it's goal.
Exarch of the Amil il Argus
Sholaad led the Order to the best of his ability, finding new purpose in uniting the races to create the Army of Light. He gained minimal ground, forging ties to the Earthspear Tribe, Crimson Illuminati, Order of the Golden Gear and Scions of Argus. He grew his Order, finding many conflicts and many like-minded individuals to join.
One of Sholaad's neophytes, Arkaan, dissapeared after a simple scouting mission. When the search had been ended, a funeral service had been prepared. In attendence where the Amil il Argus' friends, the Earthspear Tribe. In the midst of the service, an unknown assailant cried: "Death to the draenei! For the Earthspear Tribe!" The assailant, flying above, dropped the body of Arkaan before all present. In the chaos, Sholaad fell under a sickness and Arkaan felt a hatred for the tauren.
When both sickness were cured, only from the Light of the Naaru O'ros, the draenei knew that their assailant followed the Legion, due to the enormous amount of fel that cursed Sholaad and Arkaan. They dedicated their efforts to finding this assailant and Judging him properly.
Sholaad held a Festival of Summer Endings, to bring this assailant out in the open. However, the plan backfired, and in the midst of a small fight, Sholaad was captured by cultists. A vindicator, Geolan and deathknight Elamarya fought tooth and nail to rescue the Exarch, to no avail.
Sholaad endured a horrific torture in the days after the Festival. He saw the face of his capture, an orc deathknight. His glowing blue eyes shattered the draenei, inside and out. The cultists had their way with him. Feeling their job completed, they sent him, encased in fel stone, to an outpost in Nagrand, Outland.
The Amil il Argus sent out a party to discover Sholaad's whereabouts, finding the encased Sholaad in a fortress in Nagrand. They slayed cultists and managed to free the draenei. Sholaad returned shattered, his faith for the races harmed. He also felt a deep fear of deathknights, the glowing blue eyes of the orc capturer still haunting his nightmares.
Redemption and Rest
Sholaad took this time to recover. He regained his senses, and even spoke to Elamarya (the deathknight who attempted to save him from capture) He overcame his fear of deathknights and even sparked a friendship with the undead. Still, he felt unfit to lead his Order, and spoke to the Trimvirate to lead to it's disband.
Currently Sholaad is now on a crusade to find like-minded individuals to create the Army of Light. He holds Peace summits to find these individuals. In his travels, however, he has dealt with the Horde's WARPATHs, horrible warbands of slaugther and bloodlust. Broken by his feelings of peace and his Light-given teachings of Judgment, he now is on a crusade of Retribution against the Horde for it's actions, much to the dismay of many vindicators and anchrorites. Still, he serves the Hand of Argus, defending the isles from minor threats in between his personal times.
Unfortunately, the Retributions were not met with general agreement among the Alliance members. Many felt he was warmongering, instead of exacting out justice. After a few battles and peace talks between the Horde and Alliance, the support for RETRIBUTION dwindled. Sholaad stopped his crusade. He recognized that the battles didn't bring back those who had fallen or make him feel any better about those losses.
When the Alliance and Horde inadvertently discovered the mystical land of Pandaria, Sholaad took the opportunity to leave the Isles of the Draenei. Asking to be a representative of the Hand of Argus in this new land, as well as aid the Alliance in their battles against the more aggressive Horde, the Triumvirate gave him the mission to explore and report his findings.
Sholaad arrived and found war; Horde and Alliance fighting tooth and nail to establish a landing on this new continent. Sholaad reported to the Alliance officials and was engaged to fight the Horde on various missions.
When Sholaad was given orders to report to the Valley of Four Winds, however, something changed. The Pandaren, bear-like creatures that seemed to keep their emotions in check above all, greeted the draenei with open arms. Sholaad found himself in the farms of the Tillers , a group of farming Pandaren that supplied food throughout the valley. Sholaad reminisced about his own farming past, and could not help being reminded of his small farm outside of Tuurem. He felt a connection to the land; a memory he clinged to.
This memory however, brought about him a deep sadness. The farm. His past life. His family. Everything he had lost on Draenor. Sholaad thought about them every day since then, and while on most days it did not overwhelm him, on this occasion something was different. The sadness grew; a pain deep his his chest that overwhelmed him. He could not forgive himself. He should have tried harder. He could have saved his wife. His children. He was ashamed. He had failed. He was a failure. Sholaad's vision became clouded, darkness inching over his mind.
Suddenly the sadness lessened. He looked at a flash of mist before him and was overwhelmed with some sort of force. He looked to his hands , some darkness manifested into reality already leaving his body. He fell to his knees as the sadness almost completely vanished; subdued to the back of his mind. He looked up and gasped.
A Pandaren, clad in some uniform, his hat covering his face, faced Sholaad, paw towards the draenei. He put his paw down and eyed Sholaad with mistrust. "Keep your emotions in check, blue-one," he commanded firmly. "Lest the darkness of the sha overwhelm you. Next time, I will not be so forgiving. I will have to put you down. You outsiders bring old forces back into play. We Shado-pan can only do so much."
The Shado-Pan, as he had called himself, lifted an arm and dissipated in a veil of mist, as quickly as he had arrived.
Sholaad did not understand at first, but was informed by the locals. The land of Pandaria did not work the same way the rest of Azeroth did. Emotions were kept in check to keep the sha subdued; it was the life lesson of the Pandaren.
Sholaad knew he needed to keep himself in line. However, war surrounded him. Rage. Carnage. Revenge. They all led to hatred, another aspect of the Sha, as he was informed. Sholaad knew that war did not keep him at peace. Sholaad tried to remember the last time he truly felt at peace. He remembered his farm. His family. And this time, the sadness did not come, but was instead happiness. He remembered their smiling faces as he tilled the land, bringing food to his home.
Sholaad looked to his surrounding. Lush farmland. He thought. "Perhaps the Pandaren would not mind a helping hand on these lands, " the draenei uttered.
Currently Sholaad has retired his hammer in favor for working on the farms of the Valley of the Four Winds. He serves under the Tillers, renting a small shack on their lands. He has made some few friends on the farms, but keeps mostly to himself. Once or twice he has been mistaken for a Mogu by the local children, and has had his share of problems with the Virmin. Away from the conflict that surrounded the land of Pandaria, Sholaad keeps his mind at some level of peace while he labors. He has overheard of the victories of the Alliance and Horde over the Thunder King and eventually Garrosh Hellscream himself. He had planned on attempting to see the tyrant's trial.
PersonalitySholaad is a very kind exiled one, often very inviting to new friends and comrades. He greets most with a blessing of the Might or Kings. He is often found praying and meditating to the Light. However, when dealing with one of the Darkness, he brings upon a righteous fury. He purges and heals in battle, silent prayers upon his lips at all times. He feels a deep kinship to all races on all worlds, feeling they are all under the Light. He is often conflicted, however, when dealing with Judgment, especially in political situations. To his foolishness, or not, he uses his teachings of Judgment regardless of race or banner, much to the dismay of political pacifists within the Alliance.
"Light bless you"
"Be Well, and Light guide your path"
"For the Hand! For the Light!"
"Only with the unifcation of the races, will the True Threat be stopped."