Thursday, May 14, 2009

Warhorse: 1 - Orders

The tavern was loud and full of people, mostly dwarven and human sailors, though a few soldiers and adventurers were seated around the heavy, wooden tables as well. Outside, beyond the safe walls of Menethil Harbor, crockolisks hissed as they dragged themselves through the mire of the Wetlands, looking for their next meal. Murlocs sat around small, flickering campfires near their leaning huts, and gnolls bayed in the distance. Further still, dark iron dwarves sat in their tents, red eyes glowing in the dark, watching for enemies.

The sun was setting over the soggy landscape, the shadows from the drooping trees getting longer, reaching out into the growing darkness. A single dwarf paladin, her boots covered in mud and her once shining, bronze chainmail now covered in grime was crossing the stone bridge into the town, passing by the guards who were in the process of a shift change. They called out to one another, the tired ones gladly giving their post over to the replacements, with good-natured humor and ribbing.

A few raised hands in greeting to the short paladin, some calling her by name. "Seona! You should meet us in the tavern, we're off to get a drink!" She smiled, her blue eyes full of mirth. "Maybe I will!" she called over her shoulder, waving. The soldiers fell behind as she continued into the town, skirting around the huge barracks that took up most of the space within the walls, meeting up with various locals. "A letter for you, sir, from your wife. She's fine, by the way." A quick thanks, a grateful handshake and a few coins for her trouble, and she was back on the path, heading round to the next house. "Your pack. You really don't want to know where I found it..." A relieved sigh, and a few more coins for her purse and more thanks. She smiled and continued on, finding herself in front of the tavern. The windows glowed brightly in the growing dark and she could hear the sounds of soldiers and sailors drinking, laughing, and talking from the open doorway.

A few of the soldiers from the keep, freshly off duty and changed out of uniforms and armor, walked past and Seona followed them inside. Ordering a drink from the barkeep, she found an empty stool at one of the lower tables designed for the dwarven citizens and sank down with weary sigh, letting her pack drop heavily to the floor. After a few long pulls from her flagon, she scratched absentmindedly at an insect bite, thinking about her decision to come to the Wetlands in the first place. If it weren't for the need, she'd never put up with the mud, grime, and biting bugs that made their home here. Her thoughts were shortly interrupted.

"Seona!" the loud call easily carried over the din, and was immediately reconizable as the barkeep Mikhail's voice. He stood near the bar, looking over the crowd, searching for her. She stood up and pushed her way to the bar, maneuvering around the soldiers ordering drinks.

"You called, Mik?" Startled, Mikhail looked down. "There you are," He said, bending down just a bit. "This came for you today, via courier. It looks important so I wanted to get it to you fast as I could."
He handed her an envelope of heavy, yellow parchment bearing the seal of the Paladin Order of Stormwind. Excited, as Seona guessed what the letter was, she tipped and thanked the barkeeper and made her way back to the little table she was in before. The tavern was still full of people, but her spot was thankfully empty so she sat and opened the letter. Her eyes darted over the page, taking in the words written there eagerly, thrilled with its contents.

Sister Seona Lightstone,
Congratulations are in order. You have shown exceptional aptitude and perseverance in your studies and training. It is with pleasure that I tell you of your promotion to full Paladin status and entrance into the mounted elite.
You are hereby ordered to return to Stormwind for a two-week intensive training session, at the conclusion of which will be an induction ceremony. During the training, you will learn how to care for, and maintain the equipment of, a warhorse of your choosing from our stables.
Please bring the enclosed application with your signature along with these orders to Stormwind when you arrive for your training.
By the Light,
Arthur the Faithful, of Stormwind Cathedral
For the Alliance!

The second paper was the application mentioned, quite plain and simple. She carefully pulled out a small inkpot and quill to sign it, careful not to spill her drink onto the parchment. The date written on the application for the training was only a few days away, but she knew that reaching Stormwind would only take a day from here, provided she could get a ride to at least Ironforge. There was a gryphon station here, and, weather permitting, she could purchase a ride. The town had been plague with bad storms at night, and thick fog in the mornings, but with the official orders from Stormwind, even the gryphon keeper would have to allow her a flight. Wanting to make herself more presentable, she finished her drink and hunted down the Innkeeper, Helbreck.

She found him behind the bar, in the small kitchen, chopping what looked like crockolisk meat with a huge cleaver, his beard carefully tucked into his shirt. Knocking on the door frame to grab his attention she asked, "Any rooms available tonight Helbreck?" He looked up from the butcher block and grinned. "Aye, lass. You're welcome to any. Few strangers in town t'day." His beard began to slip out and he unceremoniously shoved it back down. "Pay me in the mornin'. I know ye paladins 're good fer it."

Seona nodded, smiling, and dragged her pack up the stairs to one of the small rooms. Closing the door behind her and locking it, she dropped her bags down in a corner and took out the letter again. Setting it on the small table in the room, she removed her chainmail, wincing as she did so. "By the Light, I'm sore," she muttered, getting the rest of her armor off. She checked herself in the small mirror, realizing that some of the soreness came from nasty-looking bruises on her back and shoulder where Gnolls had attacked her with clubs earlier that morning.

She clicked her tongue dissaprovingly. Rubbing her hands together, she whispered a few prayers, calling the Light to her. Slowly, her palms began to glow and she smiled, grateful for her gift. With thanks to the gods, she poured the Light over herself, feeling the soreness ease, then dissapear altogether. Another check in the mirror showed healthy skin, the bruising gone entirely. With that done, she changed into a simple shift from her packs. She placed her chainmail in her bags after inspecting it for damage and finding little, expecting simple travel in the morning and no need for heavy armor or weapons. She rearranged a few things, discarded some other items, checked her coinpurse, and finally closed up her bags again.

By now, the noise from the tavern below was much quieter, as soldiers and sailors both returned to their bunks for the night. Seona finished preparing for sleep herself, and finally blew out the lantern, settling into the bed. As she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, she dreamed of a white stallion carrying her into glorious battle, the both of them bathed in the holy Light, their faceless enemies fleeing before their combined might.

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