Commander Braghaman Larethian

“I thought you said he left Darkshire.”

“He did, sir.”

“He should have been here by now.” Lord Shadowbreaker shifted in his saddle. He stared across the bridge towards the main gate of Stormwind, but the entrance was empty save for the few guards stationed there.

“He should have been here by now. It wouldn’t take this long for that lion of his to get here.”

“Our informant sent word when he left. We’re looking into it.”

Shadowbreaker sat on his charger and fought to at least appear to be calm. Behind him were a half dozen other paladins, all glancing nervously to each other as they waited. No one spoke another word until a rider appeared outside the gate. His horse wore the trappings of the Cathedral and it was galloping straight for them.

“One of our men stationed in Goldshire,” one of the paladins said quietly before risking a glance at Shadowbreaker. The paladin trainer frowned as he watched the rider draw closer.

“Report!” Shadowbreaker barked as the rider pulled to a stop in front of them.

“We received word from Darkshire, sir. He left there an hour ago, but took one of the gryphons. Not his usual mount.”

“Then why isn’t he here? We would’ve seen him flying overhead into the city.”

“He didn’t fly to the city. The attendant in Darkshire said that he paid for passage to Ironforge.”

“Why would he go to Ironforge?” Shadowbreaker asked quietly, rubbing his chin as he thought. Then the paladin sat up straight in the saddle with his eyes wide. “The tram. He’s coming into the city through the Dwarven District. You two, go to the entrance to the tram and keep an eye out. The rest of you, back to the Cathedral. Now.”

The group of paladins spurred their mounts into action and began riding through the city. The crowds slowed them down somewhat, but most moved to the sides of the street when they saw a group of armed and armored people riding towards them. 

Lord Shadowbreaker and his group rode into the squared outside of the Cathedral. At the sight of the armored men, the matron of the orphanage called out and the kids emptied from the square. The paladins began scanning the area. Men and women dressed in white robes or paladin armor were streaming into and out of the Cathedral. Shadowbreaker continued to look from side to side until something caught his attention. One lone individual with a brown cloak was moving up the steps, their hood pulled up.

“Larethian!” Shadowbreaker bellowed. Several people stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the trainer. The person in the brown cloak did not. That person sped up and started pushing through the crowd towards the doors. “There! In the brown!”

The group spurred their horses and quickly crossed the square. Sliding out of their saddles, the men and women followed as Shadowbreaker yelled for everyone to move and barreled up the stairs. The trainer burst through the doors to find a brawl already underway inside. Braghaman’s cloak head already been ripped off, showing the well-worn armor that had been underneath. Bragh was still pushing forward slowly as four paladins stationed inside were doing everything they could to hold him back.

“Braghaman!” Shadowbreaker called out as he ran forward and tried to grab the paladin’s arm. Bragh twisted and threw a punch that glanced off the side of the the trainer’s head. Shadowbreaker stumbled a couple of steps back and shook his head. His vision cleared and he looked up just in time to see one of the guards punch Braghaman solidly in the side of the head. Bragh pushed forward another step before collapsing under the weight of the other men.

The paladin trainer stepped over to the pile and looked down.  “Larethian?”

“He’s out,” one of the paladins on the ground said, still holding his arm tightly.

“What do we do?” another paladin asked.

“Lock him up,” Shadowbreaker answered with a frown, rubbing the side of his head.

“Sir?”

“Lock him up. Make sure he’s manacled.”