Hi again! I realised all my stories had been told from a Horde perspective (FOR THE HORDE!) so i decided to go for some diversity. By the way if you weren't sure, this chaoter's set in Lordearon city.
Adrien Morter walked out of the cathredral, a sour look on his face.
"Why the poor look, friend?" His friend, Tirion, emerged from the shadow, a lopsided grin on his face.
Adrien pulled a face. "The others have failed to acknowledge my methods as a technique of the silver hand."
Tirion laughed. "It's because we're students. The crusty ones won't accept that with new paladins come new power."
"I'll show them "too strong for one paladin to use alone."" Adrian grumbled.
They walked along the cathedral square, heading for the stables.
"I swear that half the reason why they refuse to accept you is that you're too impatient." Tirion sighed dramatically.
Adrien sighed. "Yeah, You'll be off crushing the Orcish rebels while I'm still trying to prove to them I'm not a budding warlock."
"Nah." Tirion replied. "Uther doesn't trust me to hit a dummy with a judgement. I'm never going to qualify..."
"Better than with me...he still hasn't forgiven me for that incident." The considerably older trainee grumbled.
Tirion laughed. "What? The time when in a desperate effort to prove yourself, you used your technique to battle the lightbringer in a sparring match, lost control" (The Holy Light was not kind on those who misused it's power) " and almost killed him, as well as knocking several VERY prominent paladins into the next room? I don't think his ego ever recovered from that..." The prodigy cocked his head at Adrien. "Maybe the old codger's scared of you so much he doesn't want to fight next to you?"
Adrien harrumphed, not entirely convinced this wasn't true. He'd been in the training course for almost twenty years, roughly eight years behind. Hell, Tirion couldn't even aim an exorcism, let alone last five seconds against the Lightbringer, yet Adrien had forged his own Lightforge armour, tailoring it's runes and mixing it with mage's enchantments to provide the perfect suite of armour for the needs of his technique, had his own Lightcharger, could hit a moving target with an exorcism at almost five hundred yards, had been described as a "Child Prodigy" more times than he could count, yet he, he, was still behind Tirion, that little squirt (although he would never describe him as that in public, he was short on friends who didn't look down their noses at him).
As they neared the stables where their Lightchargers stood tethered, a slight frame slipped out from behind a beam and strode out towards them.
"Ava!" Tirion acknowledged with a cheeky grin.
Ava Lightforge was small, for a paladin, relying on light yet relentless attacks that could render even Uther's armour shredded if he went against her for too long. With long, brown hair curled up in a bun so it could fit in her helm, she often took to the habit of wearing her paladin gear outside the cathedrals and barracks, as her womanly attractions often bought entirely the wrong sort of attention to herself.
"Tirion, you cheeky man, if you try and flirt with me again I'll do more than just slap you this time!" Ava said, sticking her tongue out at him. She nodded at Adrien respectfully as he did the same. When they were both in training, they had been attacked by rogue Orcs, who had killed their master. Had it not been for Adrien's quick thinking, neither of them would've got out of those woods alive. Also, had it not been for Ava's skill at healing, Adrien would've died of a serious axe wound to the rib.
"Ah, but where will you slap me?" Tirion said, winking.
Adrien snorted. "What do'ya think those steel boots are for? Kicking dandelions' heads off?" the three laughed together, before Adrien noticed something. "Wait a bit. Aren't you meant to be training with Lord Uther now?"
Ava's face hardened. "Yes." She said. "Lord Uther's battle in Hearthglen against the undead army has left a lot of Paladins dead, a lot of spaces. He wanted me to hand you both these." With a wide smile, she handed the pair before her a pair of badges. "Welcome to the order."
"Wow." Adrien mumbled, slightly numbed by the random change of events. He was a Paladin. A real Paladin. He'd finally been accepted. Now he could make a real difference. "What now?"
"He's moving with us three to meet with Prince Arthas' forces outside Stratholme."
"When do we move?" Tirion asked, glowing with pride at his new badge, apparently oblivious to the fact that the badges were both covered in blood. Evidently the undead had proved a problem even for Uther's forces.
Ava smiled. "Right now."
"Ah. No celebratory drinking, then? Hey, this has got blood on it..."
"I think, Tirion my friend, that if the undead are that dangerous, we might be faced with more fighting and less drinking." Adrien said, rubbing half-heartedly at his own badge.
