Chapter 1: A Meager Existence
Aedan Alexston lifted his head up towards the sky, thanking the Light for bringing the blessed clouds over the scorching sun. Returning his gaze to the fields ahead of him, Aedan slowly lay back against the plow, wiped the sweat from his golden-spiked hair, and watched as the breeze carried the small clouds of dust throughout the lands of Westfall.
"Its times like this I wish I would have told Jorab to go to the Nether and conscripted with the Alliance army, but no, it's always the same old speech," Aedan thought. "No son of mine will ever join those warmongering brutes! I think I'll try to bring it up to him again today," he pondered, "Hopefully he doesn't go off again like last time."
Aedan rose, dusting the dirt and dried up plants from his pants. He looked again up at the sun and saw that it was high past noon, with still half of the field to plow. Aedan sighed in exasperation as he smacked the mule and continued on with his work.
Truly this mundane life had grown tiresome for Aedan, this being this sixteenth year in this world and having never truly wandered much past Westfall except for the occasional trip up to Goldshire in Elwyn Forest. Five years have passed since the news arrived in the reconstructed Stormwind of the defeat of the Burning Legion atop Mt. Hyja, but at great cost. Rumors spread that the great Kingdom of Lordaeron had fallen along with its king due to the treachery of its beloved prince, Arthas Menethil. It was said that the only inhabitants that remained now were hordes of undead. Even though all this time had passed, the Alliance and the Horde still were at each others throats over territory in the lost continent of Kalimdor. Apparently, with the lose of the High Elves of Quel'Thalas, the Alliance had taken on new allies in the form of the so called "night elves." Rumors of these events only seemed to stir Aedan's discontentment with his meager existence on the Alexston farmstead, he couldn't help but yearn for something more.
Suddenly a voice rang out and echoed amongst the hills, a voice that made Aedan's shin shiver from the tone. "AEDAN," yelled Jorab, Aedan jumped and nearly lost his footing, "I told you to have this part of the field plowed and seeded by the time I returned from Sentinel Hill, care to explain why that isn't so?"
"I'm sorry father, I just got a little side tracked," Aedan stuttered, feeling crushed by Jorab's steely gaze.
"Well see to it that it's done before sundown, or you will be going hungry tonight, understand," Jorab questioned. Silence stood between them for a few seconds before Jorab's glare softened, "and if you manage to finish a little early, I have a few copper pieces for you to go and spend at Sentinel Hill, a few new traders arrived this morning. Also, I believe I saw Galin Saldean back in town while I was there."
Aedan's eyes immediately lit up and without another word, he turned back to the plow and began working as if the Scourge itself were behind him.
The sun had barely begun to touch the horizon when Aedan rode the mule and his plow back into the barn. Jorab awaited at the door with a stoic look upon his face, "Here are fifteen copper pieces, be sure you spend them wisely," Jorab said with a serious tone, "Be back at the farm by dark, you hear? Those Defias hooligans are started to come closer at night." "Yes sir," Aedan replied, almost pacing in anticipation. "Well what are you waiting for, off with you," Jorab said with a grunt, and with that, Aedan took off towards the barn and mounted the nearest colt.
The ride to Sentinel Hill didn't take long if you knew the hills as well as Aedan did. Many a days did he and Galin explore around them pretending that they were paladins fighting the savage orcs of the Horde. Unfortunately, only one of them ever grew up to fulfill that childhood fantasy, Galin left to be trained as a paladin just two years ago. The Saldeans were the only family in Westfall that farm was never besieged by the constant threat of bandits, gnolls, and other troubles that befell the locals. Because of this, they had the coin to send their son to be trained in Northshire Abbey. Even though Aedan had no true desire for a life of devotion in service to the Light, the thought of leaving Westfall to explore Azeroth made him more than a little jealous of Galin. The sight of the decaying tower of Sentinel Hill stirred Aedan from his thoughts and he rode past the stands where the merchants were just closing up shop for the night.
"Dammit," Aedan muttered as he saw the various trinkets and novelties from Stormwind being stowed away in crates. "Perhaps I can still see if Galin remains in town," Aedan hoped turning this mount towards the tower.
"Greeting Aedan," said Gryan Stoutmantle, the leader of the People's Militia, a group of volunteers dedicated to protecting the welfare and safety of Westfall's people, "I am surprised to see Jorab decided to let you out so late, what can I do for you?"
"I am sorry to disturb you Gryan, but have you seen Galin around? Jorab told me he was back in town," Aedan asked. "
"Why yes I have, I believe he and his master were visiting the inn to see if there was vacancy," Gryan replied, "though why there is any doubt of that escapes me. Westfall has lacked many visitors since the Defias activity increased. But don't let my troubles keep you. Go see your friend."
"Thank you," Aedan yelled back as he ran down the hill towards the inn. The doors of the inn swing open as Aedan barged in, observing the very few patrons sitting and drinking amongst the tables. Being careful to avoid the group of men wearing red bandannas, Aedan crossed the room towards the two men at the far side enthralled in conversation. As he approached, the young man with brown hair turned his head and smiled.
"Aedan," Galin exclaimed as he stood to embrace his friend, "How have the wheat fields been treating you?" Turning towards the older-bearded man, encased in heavy armor, "Master Ulric, this is Aedan, my oldest friend," Galin said.
"Well now," said that man called Ulric, "it is always nice to meet an acquaintance of my pupil. I am Sir Ulric, young Aedan, a paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand."
"I am honored to meet you Sir Ulric," Aedan replied, bowing lowly. "Now what are two stout paladins such as yourselves doing in Westfall," Aedan asked, "If you don't mind me asking," he quickly added.
"Not at all my boy," Ulric replied as he invited Aedan to sit down with them. "With Stormwind's armies being spread rather thin of late, Highlord Bolivar Fordragon requested that I come as a personal favor to him to evaluate the concerns that Westfall has reported as of late. Personally, I can see from the condition of this very settlement that Westfall is in dire need of help, but some of the nobles, like that Prestor woman, seem to believe the reports to be grossly exaggerated."
"Well you couldn't be more right in that regard, milord," Aedan replied, "Westfall surely does have its fair share of troubles, but its not much different than when Westfall had the Galin and I running amuck.."
Galin playfully punched Aedan's arm exclaiming, "What are you trying to do, ruin my reputation in front of my master?"
Ulric roared in laughter and stood from the table, "Well I will leave the two of you to catch up. Galin, be sure to get some rest, we leave for Stormwind tomorrow after we speak with Gryan Stoutmantle," Ulric said.
"Yes master, but will we be able to stop by my families' farmstead on the way to Elwyn," Galin asked.
"Of course we will have time for a short visit, but afterwards we really must be on our ways," Ulric replied. "It was a pleasure to meet you Aedan, see to it that you don't head home too late, if the reports are true, Westfall is truly quite the danger at night."
"Well he seems like a nice enough fellow," Aedan said as Ulric ascended the stairs, "So you have to tell me Galin, what it is like being a holy warrior of the light."
"Not quite as glamorous as one might expect, but we do good work. Ulric might seem to be a kind man, but he is quite the slave driver when it comes to training," Galin replied, "I remember once when I slept through prayer service in the abbey, Ulric stormed into my room and made me run around the Abbey one-hundred times. I am sure as hell never doing that again." So what about you, how's that old goat Jorab doing," Galin asked.
"It been fine since you left, the season have come and gone, Jorab is still as hot-tempered as ever, but by the Light, I have grown tired of this place," Aedan replied with a deep sigh in his voice.
"Well we all can't be holy warriors Aedan, perhaps your destiny lies here in Westfall," Galin said.
"Perhaps your right, who knows, maybe my destiny will turn out much more differently than everyone expects," Aedan replied with a thoughtful look on his face.
It was long past nightfall when Galin and Aedan said their good-byes and parted ways. The moon had risen past the horizon and was in the midst of the sky. "Shit, shit shit," Aedan cursed as he round back to the farmstead with all possible speed, "That's it, I'm done! Jorab is going to skin me alive." By the time he arrived back at the barn, the moon was already high in the sky.
Jorab sat at his humble house, dinner left on the table, awaiting the return of his adopted son. He would never forget the day that Aedan came into his life, that fateful day on his way back from Goldshire.
Jorab Alexston rode along the road, finally approaching the bridge that connected Elwynn Forest and Westfall. As he crossed over, Jorab noticed a cloaked person walking slowly across the road. As his wagon came close to the figure, the person collapsed. Jumping from his wagon, Jorab ran to the fallen being and pulled back the hood to reveal the face of a beautiful blonde haired woman.
"Please," she said, her voice hoarse, "Help me."
Jorab, without a second thought, carried the woman to his wagon and quickly rode to Sentinel Hill.
"What's wrong with her, healer," Jorab and Gryan asked as they watched the woman stir in pain.
"It seems this woman is with child, she must have gone into labor hours ago. It is a miracle she was walking at all," the healer replied.
"Will she live," Jorab asked concern evident in his voice.
"It is hard to say. She has lost a lot of blood; I can't say for sure if she or her baby will survive the night," The healer answered, "All we can do is pray to the light."
Hours passed and the woman's cries of pain rang throughout the inn. Jorab was barely awake when the healer emerged from the room.
"The baby has made it, but I am afraid there is nothing more I can do for the mother. She is dying," the healer said, a sad expression upon his face, "She has asked to see you."
Jorab nodded and entered the room, stopping when he saw the pale face of the woman he had found alongside the road.
"Thank you," she said, "You have already done so much for me, so I am sorry if I must ask but one more thing."
Jorab nodded for her to continue.
"It is of the utmost importance that this child life, this boy, my boy, may one day decided the fate of his father's kingdom," the woman said, tears gathering in her eyes, "He looks so much like his father, I only wish he could have seen him."
"Please Jorab," she pleaded, "Watch over my boy, my Aedan; see to it that he grows up strong."
Shocked, but unable to deny her, Jorab nodded his head. With her final act, the woman placed a locket from around her neck onto the baby and passed him into Jorab's hands. With a smile upon her face, the mysterious woman passed into the sweet embrace of death.
Jorab looked down at the locket in his hands, thinking back to that day. Aedan knew that Jorab was not his real father, but Jorab knew that he loved him as one, just as he loved Aedan as his own. Jorab was stirred from his memories and he heard the stable doors close and the footsteps of his son approach the door.
Aedan opened the door, almost afraid to look inside. He saw his father sitting at the table. "I am sorry I'm late father," Aedan said, awaiting the explosion, "I simply lost track of time talking to Galin."
"Aedan….its fine. Get some dinner and head off to sleep. We have work to do tomorrow," Jorab said, his eyes never leaving the locket he grasped firmly in his hand.
Shocked at his lack of anger, Aedan silently sat did as he was told. After finishing his small dinner of boar meat and cheese, he went to his room and fell upon his bed. At last, Aedan drifted into the sweet realm of dreams.