Commander Braghaman Larethian
The Unwelcome Mat
Braghaman slowly rode his charger into the capital city. Wearing the colors of the Argent Crusade, the warhorse steadily trod across the bridge as his hoofbeats echoed to the waters below. Paladin and charger were a quiet pair as the moved to the main entrance to Stormwind. As they got closer to the guards stationed at the bridge, the charger snorted as if to say, "Are you sure about this?" The paladin placed his hand gently on the back of the horse's neck, rubbing reassuringly as the continued on.
Normally, Braghaman would wear his traveling clothes. He preferred to wear black leather pants and leather vest. Normally, he'd have a well-worn hat as well. But not this day. Something made the paladin feel uneasy. On this day, Braghaman rode into the city in his full battle gear. With the sun beginning to set, the spaulders he wore began to glow brighter in the shadows. With the faceplate of his helm pushed back, he could see the wary eyes of the guards watching him as he entered the city.
Past the crowds milling outside of the auction house, Braghaman guided his mount deeper into the city. Crossing the canals, eventually he found himself sitting in front of the imposing structure of the cathedral of Stormwind. Bragh reined back on his charger, bringing the horse to a halt at the bottom of the steps leading into the cities' center of worship. Taking a deep breath, Braghaman slowly climbed down from the saddle. Resting his hand on the handle of his mace, he lowered his head and began climbing the steps.
"Greetings, paladin," a familiar voice called out as Braghaman entered the main hall.
"Greetings, brother," Bragh responded. "I need to speak to one of the bishops. I think a priest was killed recently in Duskwood."
"Hold on that," a voice boomed across the hall. All eyes turned to see a group of paladins striding across the hall. In the lead was a familiar face.
"Brother Faris," Braghaman muttered. "Been a long time."
"That it has, Brother Larethian. But you've saved us the trouble of coming to you. Take him into custody." Two other men in plate began moving forward.
"Be sure of this," Braghaman said slowly, pulling his mace off his belt. "I came to tell you of a murder, a possible sacrifice. I did not come for trouble."
"Surrender peacefully," Faris began, "and there will be no trouble."
"I am afraid, then, that we are both to be disappointed," Braghaman responded. He took a step back, sliding his shield from his back and hefting his mace. "I've no intentions of staying."
"And I'm not letting you leave," Faris answered, drawing his own sword.
"Wait!" a new voice bellowed. The crowds that had been closing in around the fight parted. Along the opening path, people bowed their heads as a priest walked towards the scene.
"Father," Braghaman said with a slight nod of his head, though he never relaxed his defensive stance.
"Paladin, you are called here to answer charges of heresy," the bishop called out clearly, obviously playing to the crowd which responded appropriately with a gasp.
"What heresy have I committed," Braghaman questioned defiantly.
"You consort with fel summoners, brother. Going so far as to marry one of the temptresses. You forsake your duties to the church for these dalliances."
"Be wary, father," Braghaman said, dropping his civil tone. "Ask Brother Faris what happened when he spoke ill of my wife."
"We know of this," the priest responded. "You stood aside, complicate in the assault on a member of the church." "I did warn him," Bragh said with a hint of a smirk flashing across his face.
"You are called by the cathedral," the priest continued, obviously annoyed by the interruption. "You have a duty to us, not to some trollop"
"I warn you now, father." Braghaman's eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on the handle of his mace. "Speak carelessly of my wife at your own peril."
"You will renounce these fel bent associations, paladin. You will do so and immediately submit to retraining here within the church."
"And if I refuse your generous offer," Bragh asked sarcastically, taking a small step forward which cause a flurry of noise as Faris and his men moved to protect the priest.
"We will call the city guards. The Dragoons, if necessary. You will be arrested for conspiracy against the church and the crown."
"Is that true?" Braghaman asked. But before the priest could respond another, soft voice spoke.
"No."
Everyone turned to find that Bishop Farthing standing among the crowd, escorted by Lord Shadowbreaker.
"Bishop," the priest said quickly, bowing to his superior. "He must be punished for his crimes."
"Which crimes are those?" the bishop asked calmly.
"He refused to help the church."
"We do not allow people to make decisions?" the bishop asked. "People have no free will?"
The priest appeared flustered. "Yes, they do," the priest began slowly. "But Brother Larethian should have heeded our call."
"But he did not," Bishop Farthing responded. "Which is not a crime. What crime did he commit?"
"None," the priest admitted, reluctantly.
"Then we will not have him arrested."
As you wish, holiness," the priest acknowledged unhappily. "But the charges of conspiring with warlocks is well substantiated. Between his participation with that group and his family, there is no doubt."
Bishop Farthing thought quietly for a moment. Then, grudgingly, the bishop nodded to the priest. The priest smugly returned the nod.
"Larethian," the priest turned and called out (again more to the crowd). "You are banned from the church. You may not return here on penalty of your freedom. You are cast out."
Braghaman looked past the priest, turning towards the bishop. Farthing looked down, not meeting the paladin's gaze. Then, slowly, the bishop nodded.
"So be it," Braghaman said calmly. Slowly, he relaxed his stance. "I will leave then. But understand," he added as he started to turn towards the entrance. "This was your decision. If anyone shows up to threaten my family again, I won't hold back. And you really should look into your missing priest."
Slowly, Braghaman backed out of the hall of the Cathedral. He was at the bottom of the steps before he finally hung his mace from his belt and slung his shield over his back again. Quickly climbing back on his charger, the paladin looked up the steps at building. Shaking his head, Bragh pulled on the reins of the horse and rode quickly away.
| Age | 47 |
| Eye Color | blue |
| Height | 6'0" |
| Body shape | fit |
| Residence | Darkshire |
| Realm | Shadow Council - US |
