Character Full Name: Sha'dash Featherstrike
Character In-Game Name: Shadash
Association(s): Darnassus, Cenarion Circle
Race: Night Elf
Hair: Purple. He has pulled all of it, including his beard, back into a ponytail.
Weight: 161 pounds
He wears feathers all over his body. Strapped to his back is a long totem. The head has been molded into something like a birds head and wings, while the end of the staff is a talon. Various feathers are strapped to random places on the totem.
Other: He is not nearly as muscled as the model makes him out to be. He also uses both Owl and Moonkin forms.
Sha'dash is sharp and cold. He believes strength is the best way to solve anything, be it strength over magical or physical. He views all other races as weak, and, therefore, largely useless. He hates Orcs with a passion for what they have done to his home, and has sworn that he will not rest until they have left his home alone. Naturally, he hates the shaky treaty between Alliance and Horde.
He is quick to defend his point, often with anger, and remains distantly aloof from the majority of people. He sees things such as friendship and love odd and unnecessary. He's also a wide control freak that dislikes anyone having any major power over him.
Sha'dash was born into a Kaldorei family that lived in Feralas. At the age of 300, adulthood, he took the move to Ashenvale and never looked back. He got a job hunting animals to supply a small village and, during this time, approximately 100 years, he quite bonded with the nature, uttering prayers to Elune and Malorne after every kill.
The War of the Ancients came. Despite his village's remote location, they were discovered by a group of Demons. Shad woke up to dieing screams, flickering felfire and Demons running rampant, destroying people whereever they were. The primordial fear of meeting something new and dangerous took over Sha'dash, and he fled, using his built muscles to escape safely.
He came across a road and sat down, going back to sleep. When he awoke, it was to a load, approaching troop of Kaldorei. He, after explaining his story, was given a bow and a quiver, and told to follow. Not knowing what else to do, he did follow.
They trekked for days on end. Days and landscape began to blur for the young Elf. One day, he woke up and saw more Night Elves than he had ever seen before. He was quickly informed of what was happening by a passer-by, and then, as night came, the group of groups advanced. As they advanced, people died, and slowly, more groups were left behind to cover the back and cut rations loss. Sha'dash was in one of these groups.
The rest of the war passed calmly for him, as he was too far to take place in fights, anyways. The Sundering came, yet he was still too far for that. He was told the story by the tired winners as they returned to Ashenvale, and eventually, to Astranaar. Slowly, he learned of the Druids. This, for someone as devoted to nature as himself, was a revelation. Immediately he journeyed to Moonglade and began his training.
It was rough, no doubt. However, he persevered and survived. Once his training was done, he was sent straight to the Emerald Dream. Here, against the Nightmare, was his first real chance at fighting. It, of course, scared him. However, he adjusted. He spent over a thousand years defending the Dream when the War of the Shifting Sands came.
As a Druid of the Talon, his contribution to the reducing the flying scarabs above was valuable. He was glad to help, in a way, and even gladder when this war was done. Before he returned to the Dream, however, he took a break from it all. He went to Winterspring and theoretically took out two birds with one stone, increasing his bond with Nature and Elune by helping the local Moonkin as one of their own.
Done with his bonding, he returned to the Emerald Dream, taking with him some knowledge that the elder Moonkin had passed onto him. He created spears, halos, anything of moonlight, which would cause pain to his enemy. The next few Millenia passed peacefully. Well, kind of. He was still fighting an ever lasting war against the Nightmare and, frankly, it had turned into a stalemate, in his eyes.
He was pulled out for the ending of the Third War, defending Nordrassil against the Legion hordes. During this time, he lost his hand to a Felhound. He was able to regrow some of it, but, due to his limited experience with healing, not all of it. He was left missing his ring, pinky and middle finger. He spent the years after the war harboring his hatred for Demons, Orcs, anything that was not a Kaldorei. He stayed grumbling through the Burning Crusade and through the Wrath of the Lich King. Only afterwards did he realize grumbling would do nothing. He needed action to solve anything.