Tag: Paladin training x 16

Erik opened the door to Madame Eva’s inn and stepped inside. The crowd inside was loud and friendly and called out a greeting to the rogue as his eyes adjusted to light inside. Madame Eva appeared from around the stairs and walked over to Erik. She laid a hand on his arm and smiled. Without a word, she turned and nodded to a corner in the back of the common room. Erik followed Eva’s glance and saw a lone person sitting at the far table.

The rogue moved through the crowd and made his way to the back of the room. Sitting at the table in the corner, facing the front door, Braghaman had both his hands around a mug and vague look in his eyes as if he were lost deep in thought. Erik stood quietly next to the table and waited. After a...

“This is stupid!”

The field turned quiet as the other four paladin trainees stopped what they were doing and looked at the outburst. Then, one by one, the four looked away from their comrade and looked to the elder paladin who was standing to the side of the field.

“We’re wasting out time here!”

“Knock it off, Henkins,” one of the trainees said, looking to the one yelling.

“You knock it off, Julia! We’re wasting our time here.”

“What have you got against practicing?” one of the other paladins asked.

“Maybe you need the practice, Bin, but I don’t.”

“We all need the practice. That’s why we’re here.”

“Not me. If we were still back in Stormwind, they’d have realized that and sent me off to...

Braghaman looked across the road at the recently damaged militia camp and then turned towards the path leading in the other direction. While he thought through the situation, he could hear next to him his trainees as they shifted restlessly. Turning to face them, the elder paladin saw the five young paladins watching him intently.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Braghaman started as he pulled his shield off his back. He looked over to the camp again and saw Valiant staring at him. The paladin smirked before he continued, knowing the lion wasn’t going to like it. “I’m going to scout down the path. See if any ogres are still poking around. You five stay here. Keep an eye out.”

“Stay here?” one of the trainees...

Braghaman took a bandage out of his satchel and started to unwind it. Carefully, he began to wrap it around the recruit’s forearm. 

“Let’s see. I’ve been poisoned. Trampled by horses. Shot with an arrow. Slashed across the face by a Vyrkul,” he said, reaching up to touch the scars over his left eye. “Frozen by a mage. Thrown by a dragon, a small one. Stabbed in the gut by a death knight. Dislocated a shoulder. Knocked off an airship.”

“Knocked off an airship?” one of the recruits repeated with surprise.

“Well, to be fair it was exploding at the time. So probably wasn’t good to stay on it.”

“Exploding?” another recruit exclaimed.

“Demons,” Bragh answered with a shrug and a smirk. “There always...

Braghaman walked into his house, shutting the door securely behind him, and set his mace down on the floor just to the side. He held in his hands several envelopes that had collected during the family’s most recent trip to the lake, mail that thankfully had been gathered in the tavern in town while they were gone. Bragh stopped just inside and looked around. 

From the sounds of things, the kids were upstairs in their rooms unpacking their bags. Not seeing Niviene around, he assumed she was likewise emptying their bag in the bedroom. With a shrug, the paladin moved over to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Putting the mail down, he began to sort through it and see if anything important had come. There were a couple of letters...

The afternoon sky was turning towards evening for Darkshire. In the backyard of the Larethian household, there was a fire going in a pit that lit up the yard and the nearby buildings. Sitting on the ground around the fire were five young men and women and sitting in a chair with them was Braghaman.

“Does it always get dark this quickly here?” one of the young men asked.

“Usually,” Bragh answered. “The trees certainly help.”

“Do the worgen ever come up to your house?” one of the women asked.

“Rarely,” Braghaman answered with a smirk. “Usually, they get a whiff of Valiant or Temperance and then decide its not worth it.”

“That’s useful,” another of the paladins said with a...

“Hey Marc.”

“Yeah, Aydin?” Marachius turned to look at his teammate as they finished putting away their saddles and gear.

“We all were planning to go to the Pig ’n Whistle once we get cleaned up. You game?”

“Sure,” Marachius answered with a grin. “Just need to clean off some of this road dust first.”

“Great! Bring your friend along if you want.”

“Reggy? I don’t know if she’s back yet, but I’ll check.”

“Okay. Don’t take too long. Last one there buys the first round.”

“Sounds good. You can buy me an ale when you finally show up,” Marachius responded with a smirk.

“Funny guy. Funny guy. See you there.”

Braghaman walked through the center of Darkshire, his war hammer resting on his shoulder and occasionally scraping against the edge of his breastplate. Beside him, Marachius kept pace while his long sword, slung across his back, lightly tapped against his own armor.

“May I ask a question, commander?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you live here?”

“What do you mean?” Braghaman asked in response, glancing at the younger man.

“Well, you could live in Stormwind. Near the Cathedral. Why did you choose to live here?”

“These citizens need help as much as anyone else,” Braghaman answered with a shrug.

Marachius looked at the older paladin for a moment, and then nodded in understanding. Drawing in another breath, he was just...

Marachius set his bag on the bed and looked around the small room. The inn in Duskwood was smaller than the Cathedral, obviously, but the room was comfortable. Nodding to himself in approval, the paladin picked up his breastplate and put it on, lacing the buckles along the way. Then slinging his great sword onto his back, he left the room and made his way out of the inn to meet the commander. He thought to himself that he didn’t want to keep the commander waiting. 

Walking to the center of the village, Marc saw the elder paladin sitting on the edge of the fountain outside the town hall. Rather unsure of what was happening, Marc walked over to the fountain and stood at attention.

“At ease,” the elder paladin said with a slight...

Marachius stopped at the door leading to the trainers’ office and took a deep breath. Steadying his nerves, the young man let out the deep breath and then knocked on the door. It was a moment before there was a response from within.

“Enter.”

Marachius opened the door and stepped in. Then he stopped short. Inside the room were several people wearing different tabards and armor. At the main desk sat Lord Shadowbreaker, flanked on either side by Arthur the Faithful and Katherine the Pure. Around the sides of the room sat several other men and women, some were the trainers that Marachius had been working with, others he had only seen in passing.

“We’ve had a complaint lodged about you, Ainsley,” Katherine the Pure said...

“Hey, Marachius!”

Marc looked up from the book he was reading as he lay on his bunk. At the door to the room stood one of his fellow trainees. 

“Yeah?”

“The trainers are looking for you.”

“What for?” Marachius asked as he sat up on his bunk and put his book to the side.

“Don’t know. All they said was to find you and send you to their office.”

“Office? Not one of the classrooms or outside?”

“Nope. And given the looks on their faces, I wouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Oh boy,” Marachius muttered to himself as he pushed up off his bed and walked out of the room.  “Thanks,” he added as he stepped past the other paladin.

((A couple of years ago, I wrote a series of short stories about Braghaman training a new batch of paladin trainees. Without flooding the front page with so many stories, I'm going to leave a link instead so that people who haven't seen them before can go if they want. 

Paladin Training Stories ))

Marachius rode next to Katherine the Pure as they traveled through Elwynn Forest on their way to Darkshire. As they rode, the elder paladin talked about experiences she’d had growing up, sharing the lessons she had learned as a recruit and young paladin. From time to time, Marachius would ask questions but for the most part he listened or responded when a question was asked of him. 

They had not travelled for too long before they came to the turn into Duskwood. The trees closed in around the road and the shadows deepened as they moved further into the shire. The conversation lagged as they paid more attention to their surroundings. Marachius was on edge, looking for every howl that echoed amongst the trees. Finally, they came to the...

“And here, brother Ainsley,” is a more serious case this morning.” The priestess led the young paladin towards one of the beds in the healing ward. “Mr. Potter has a farm outside of the city walls. He had an accident this morning with one of his tools that resulted in a rather nasty gash in his arm.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Marachius said quietly as he leaned forward for a closer look. On the inside of Mr. Potter’s right forearm was bandage which was already staining red.

“As we’ve discussed before, usually with cuts we would let the body heal naturally over time. But in this instance, the cut is severe enough to be concerned about damage to the nerves. Mr. Potter already complains of tingling in his fingers.”

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