One of those knife ear types

Past commissions! -ARNDIR WILDSTALKER-

1. Created by ShadowPriest Art. (Deviantart)

2. Created by Sketchado. (Instagram)

3. Commission. Created by Alena YMhin. (Artstation)

((Very early history concerning Arndir as a child. Set during the closing days of the War of the ancients.))

Despite the rampant murder and destruction associated with the legions tumultuous advance, pockets of safety still existed amidst the shroud of encroaching fel. One such refugee camp seemed to be having success in their efforts to remain hidden by forgoing all use of the arcane in addition to utilizing a network of caves, the tunnels long since abandoned. Here amidst the simple lives these Kaldorei had carved out for themselves existed a pair of boys, both of whom were attempting to evade their chores,remaining blissfully unawares of the entire continents impending demise.

"You're going to have to do better than that to best me, brother." Thwack! Arndir felt a searing pain erupt about his cheek before he was sent sprawling to the ground. Despite raising a roughly hewn weapon in defense it seemed that the runt of a Kaldorei hadn't the strength necessary to properly deflect the similarly heavy object being swung his way.

"Shake it off. Come on!" Already his brother, the slightly taller and stronger looking child had begun pacing, waiting for his sibling to rise. There was no touch of malice in his voice, only that of a mischievous amusement associated with goading.

Before Arndir had a chance to react however the breath was stolen from his lungs in a mighty impact; the topside of a thickened leather boot digging firm against his bare midsection. Rising, twisting and falling heavily onto his back the youngling gasped for air. He cringed, teeth clenched whilst brooding in silence, perpetually disgusted by his lack of strength.

Impatient, the sibling moved closer before leaning down to offer some support. "Father says--"

Cut short, a sudden surge of energy began to occur close to where the boys had been sparring wherein a vaguely familiar shadow formed within the mass of coalescing arcane power. Within moments said portal had collapsed, the shroud of magic dissipating only to be replaced with another kaldorei. Though garbed from head to toe in hooded robes, a piercing gaze could be seen drifting between the two boys for a moment before he spoke. "My sons. Where is your mother? We must leave this place. Now."

Given very little time to prepare, the children raced back to a little shack with their father in tow. Though the presence of a Moon Guard was sure to raise a few brows the robed Kaldorei cared little, hastening their steps with a subtle enchantment.

"My love. We must take the children and head as far west as we are able. There is-- Azshara is summoning something... terrible. The war may be lost." The robed man spoke in hushed tones, holding his mate close. Though slightly shaken, she understood in a subtle nod before turning back to collect her bow. "Come, all of you. I will use the last of my reserves to spirit us away." Within seconds a familiar glow of the arcane began to form about the assembled family, a shroud soon permeating the room whilst he prepared the teleportation spell.

Possessing little aptitude for the arcane, the woman had proved to be an excellent huntress before rearing her children. As such the boys remained fairly calm, safe in the knowledge of their parents combined might.

"We’re... flying?" With eyes firmly shut, Arndir felt a peculiar lurch before the familiar sensation of floating through a drifting tide occurred. Unfortunately, something must have gone awry with his fathers spell, for an insurmountable power tore through the very fabric of the plane in an explosive, ear shattering rush of energy. 

Against all odds, their bodies were not torn apart by the ravages of the sundering. Instead both Arndir and his father materialized in an exhausted heap deep within the forests of Ashenvale, with no sign of his siblig or mother.