"There is a certain... Element, needed in the proper cat and mouse game we are about to play. It requires two parts, and a certain understanding of the piece each of the players have to make do with. That goes for both prey and predator. But, alas, it saddens me to admit, that in this case my friends, you are not the latter."

-Nalcourne, making his thoughts clear to the SI:7 duo sent after him

"You sure have a lot of... This."

-Calamity, prior to making vague gestures at the air surrounding the Old Man

  • Insertion of various other quotes detailing his proper mental health.*

"Do I need to make any other remark except that the world would be a poorer place without you?

-Yavari, requires authentication

Appearance currentlyEdit

An avian like exterior with pointed features and defined cheekbones, yet frailer than a brittle autumn leaf. The skin tone is nearly constantly sickly in appearance, an unnaturally pale-gray.

A thin, seemingly elder man with a certain grace to his step despite appearing handicapped. His body would be borderline malnourished behind the clothing, yet he doesn't appear weak. A long lock of white hair hangs down his back, ending at the beginning of the neck. The gauntness and hollow posture coupled with the sickly features make him seem nearly unnatural. Adding to this would be his hands, large, yet delicate with long sharpened nails that seem more black than the normal pale pink, casting a certain glint in the right light. Around his neck hangs a gemstone on a grime coloured chain which seems to have rusted, a crystal clear yet deep set amethyst is attached to it.


Nalcourne. Known by many a name, Old Man, Lycos Vendrinn, Conrad Morgan, Duckbane and the like, still retains the self-proclaimed title of "Elder", even amongst warlocks, mostly for having sustained more than four centuries of life. As a respectable title, it might indicate he had something worthwhile to teach.

Ironically, his age-long research and practice has allowed him to reach far beyond the limitations of the normal life expectancy most humans endure. The nearly unmeasurable time he has devoted to study the nature of Azeroth and what lies beyond means he is well versed in most cultures and aspects of the world. And more importantly, has enabled him to reach what could only be described as a higher level of understanding. Having studied divine magic, rune magic, nature magic, suffice to say, most sorts of magic. And he is, despite the mortality he constantly combats, a master of something so chaotic as to be named fel magic. Having reached far into the Nether, having summoned demons that could bring down battalions and to have lived through it all with his sanity intact... But who are we supposed to be eluding? No one. That's who. Perhaps it is both a blessing, and a curse, the insanity gripping the "man" known by many names enables him to act with a certain amount of unpredictability. And also incompetence. There is a certain flare and extravagance to his every move, and indeed, to his very nature. You can't really lay a foundation built on tormented souls, sacrificed essences and devestated bodies without being a tad narcissistic now. Indeed, his very soul bears a testament to this. And the very nature of it corrupts most bodies he transfers it to. Lending them each some characteristics easily perceived as unnatural,  barely into adult-hood vessels to lend the sickly features of one unknown to daylight. 

Despite all this seemingly hefty information surrounding him, there is little to indicate his origins aside from a literary section within the Violet Hold detailing a certain elderly archmage gone rogue in pursuit of eternal life sometime 350 years ago.

Without a doubt, perhaps one of the most elderly warlocks still found hunched over a cane, strolling around the world of today.

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