THE PRAXEUM CHRONICLES
"The Blessed Light : Book One"

A World of Warcraft tale
by Stephen R. Sobotka / © 2008-2009

DISCLAIMER : This story is an original prose based on situations, settings, places and themes from the MMORPG game "World of Warcraft", by Blizzard Entertainment Ltd. All characters that appear within -- with the exception of all original characters created by the author -- are the property of said licenses, and are used here without knowledge or permission of same.

This story is the rightful property of the author; all original characters and the plot depicted within are protected by copyright law. This story was produced to entertain fans of the original game, and is in no way, shape or form intended to be published for monetary gain. Please do not sue.

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Four

As a Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand, Liam mac Roi followed three core beliefs; one, to always do what he felt was right. Second, to never abandon his duty to his order, his people and those in need, and lastly, to believe that the Light would, given time, provide all answers he sought in life. It was these precepts that guided Liam throughout his life, and for all that, he had never seen the need to question them.

At the moment though, engaged with three armed Sin'dorei rangers in the common room of the Lion's Pride Inn, a small, seemingly-insignifigant question in had cropped up the back of his mind: why would the Blood Elves risk a raid on a peaceful town like Goldshire!?

At that moment, the answer would have to wait, as Liam was facing the trio of raiders; all skilled and clearly wanting to spill more human blood this night.

"Take him!" the raid leader prompted. "Quickly! We still have her to deal with!" His two companions spread out, trying to flank the paladin as they approached him from the far side of the inn's common room.

Her? What do they mean by Her!? Liam shoved the though aside, eying each of the two warriors as he shifted his grip on his sword. Concentrate, Liam. Now is not the time for rash actions! They believe they have the advantage . . . let's change that! Liam suddenly reached out, snagging the back of a nearby chair to hurl it at the leftmost attacker. Ducking, the blood elf never saw what was coming -- a vicious, rising blow from Liam that stunned him, leaving the armored ranger rocking on his heels like a wind-blown tree.

The second blood elf tried to charge in, thinking he had Liam's unprotected side and an easy strike, but Liam had reversed his sword and let this foe's momentum impale himself on the lenght of his blade. Letting out an explosive breath, the second ranger tried to overcome the shock, but Liam drove his armored elbow into his face. The momentum shoved the stricken elf backwards, wrenching his sword free. By then, the first ranger had recovered and raised his twin swords to chop them down onto Liam's left side. He only met with marginal success, as the double blow caromed off of the armor protecting Liam's shoulder, making a sharp, metallic sound.

Liam obliged him with a swift punch to the face, a following knee to the belly which folded the elf over double and a final, vicious backhanded chop that snapped his neck with a gunshot-crack!. A pain-filled moan followed the elf as he slid to the floor to die in a boneless heap.

"Enough! I will kill you myself!" The raid leader drew himself up, raising his curved sword in an overhand grip.

Liam didn't even flinch. "Come and attack me. Neither of us are getting any younger," he said.

The dark-haired ranger snarled something in Thalassian as he moved in close. Liam met his first blows with quick parries, but the sheer force ripped his shield away and forced him to retreat down the lenght of the common room.

Weaving steel in a riptide of chiming blows, the two clashed back and forth, around and around until Liam was forced back towards the stairs; where the innkeeper's head maid and Dughan's daughter were still crouched in fear. Stumbling back, Liam nearly crashed into the women, but managed to keep his armored body upright. Pressing his advantage, the ranger locked swords with the paladin, looming in close until they were both face to face.

"Foolish human! You dare protect her, and for that, you will perish!" His Common was thick and choppy, but there was no disguising the hate in his voice.

Liam grunted. As strong as he was, this blood elf had the leverage, and was pressing him back further by degrees. "Who do you . . . mean, sir?"

"Her! The sin'osa! That demon-spawned bitch!" The blood elf pressed harder, bringing the rear-most edge of Liam's sword dangerously close to the paladin's own neck. "Once you are dead, I will have the honor of ridding the world of her . . . and his honor will be whole, again!"

Trying to shove the ranger back, Liam felt a moment of panic when the sharp steel barely kissed the skin of his neck. His mind fumbled to call on the Light for a prayer to give him the strength to throw his enemy back, when he heard a voice call out from above: "Delsha kore, Neph'anis!"

At that, the ranger jerked his head up, staring with enflamed rage at the speaker. "Osa!" he snapped, just before a bolt of blue-white lightning slammed into his exposed chest. With a groan, he staggered back, his face growing pale as the lightning seemed to flow over his body.

Liam took the chance he'd been given by the ranger's sudden distraction; rolling to the side, he switched his grip on his sword, preparing to attack . . . only to come to a stop when he spied the cause of the blood elf's distress. Standing in front of the maid and the girl was Freaja; her hands thrust outwards as the lightning poured out towards his foe. The blood elf woman's face clenched tight as she seemed to draw the other elf's vital essence into herself.

"Sweet Mercy!" Liam quickly shook off the shock, turning in time to see the ranger struggling to right himself.

"You . . . blood-spawned . . . witch!" The ranger lurched towards the stairs, his sword slashing towards Freaja's unprotected head.

Liam chopped his own blade up, knocking the curved blade up and away before he kicked the elf's explosed belly. With a grunt, the foe toppled over and the lightning suddenly winked off.

"Uugh!" Freaja stumbled forwards; the effort in casting the offensive spell making her breifly weak.

Liam moved to catch her before she landed at the foot of the stairs. "Are you all right?"

Panting, Freaja said, "Mana . . . tap . . . still, too weak." She shook her head, before glancing up and gasping. "'Ware, human!"

Liam snapped his head around, just in time to catch the swift attack of the ranger -- having recovered himself to lunge at them again. Unable to do little else, Liam braced and brought the point of his sword up in front of them both. With a sudden grunt of shock and pain, the Farstrider ranger skidded to a halt, his body impaled on Liam's weapon with an explosion of breath and blood.

Staring at both the paladin and the blood elf woman, the dark-haired ranger choked from the shock of hard steel plunged through to his spine. "No, I . . . can . . . not fail!"

With a soft snarl, Freaja spat in his face before saying, "You have, Neph'anis . . . now die, in dishonor!"

"You . . . will . . . die . . . Sin'be-!" The ranger's eyes flared wide, his breath coming out as a weak hiss. His dark-green orbs went dim as his body refused to support itself, the life-force within him quickly ebbing. With a final moan, the ranger slumped onto the stairs and lay still, dragging Liam's weapon with him.

Looking down at the dead elf, Liam let out a long sigh, before he turned to look at the two human women in turn. "Are you unharmed?" he asked, getting nods from both the maid and the girl.

Just then, the sound of running footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the common room. With a shout, Marshal Dughan and a couple of his men burst into view. "Paladin!? Are you--?" He skidded to a halt, seeing the scene before him. "My daughter!"

Reacting, the girl slipped down the steps and darted towards the Marshall. "Father!" A moment later, parent and child were embracing with profound relief. The maid also made her way past Liam and Freaja, joining the armored men and talking briefly with the Marshal, before one of the soldiers took her out of the inn to be seen too.

Liam looked at Freaja, then moved to help her sit on the nearest step when he saw she was still weak. "Lady? Are you going to be--?"

"I need . . . time," Freaja said, shaking her head slowly. "To recover. Still too . . . weak, even with . . . such a basic spell."

Liam nodded. Freaja's face was wet with sweat, and her palor was almost that of milk. "I understand." He made to take her hand. "Come. You should be returned to your room."

"Hold, Paladin."

Liam glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Marshal Dughan was standing alone in the middle of the common room, his daughter only just dissapearing with the other soldier through the inn's entrance. The man-of-arms was staring pointedly at Freaja.

"Marshal?"

"You told the watchmen you had an injured person to see to," Dughan said with a frown. "You never said anything about them being a blood elf."

Liam looked at Freaja -- seeing alarm fill her face -- before he turned to face the Marshall fully. "That was a matter of my concern, sir . . . as it stands, this woman was not one of the raiders. She was injured and weak when I brought her here, and was no threat to Goldshire."

"That may be, yet you know the laws we must uphold. All members of the Horde, if found within our borders, are enemies of the King," Dughan said. "The woman must be imprisoned."

Liam pressed his lips into a thin line. Looking back down at Freaja, he could see the elf woman's face turning even paler with fear. As weak as she is, she would never survive imprisonment. Even in the local garrison or the Stormwind Stockades . . . one night inside those stone walls is as much of a death sentence, as if she were put to the sword!

As if reading his mind, Freaja looked up at Liam, a shake of her red-tressed head clearly spoke of a refusal to be taken.

Holding Freaja's gaze for a moment, Liam said slowly, "I understand the law, Marshal Dughan." He turned to Dughan with an expression of iron resolve. "Yet, for this once, I must refuse to obey."

"You must . . . refuse?" The Marshall was clearly unprepared for that reply.

"Yes, I must," Liam said. "Because, this woman is under my protection, I vowed that she would remain in my care, until she was well enough to be returned to her own people. As a Knight of the Order, I cannot break that vow."

At that, both Dughan and Freaja -- who was now bracing herself against the wall of the stairwell -- stared with utter surprise at Liam. Behind the Marshall, Liam's dwarven companions had just arrived from outside, and had caught the paladin's statement of intent. With a sputter, Rhandall muttered, "Wha-wh-what!? Liam! Are ye daft, man!?"

Dughan said, "I must wonder that myself! Paladin, you cannot be expected to uphold such a vow . . . especially to a member of the Horde."

"Enemy or not, I cannot go back on a vow I have made." Liam crossed his arms as his face became still as steel. "Lady Freaja is under my care, until she is safely with her own kind."

Dughan scowled darkly, his jaw working side to side as he glared at Liam and the blood elf woman. "I should call up my men and take her by force!"

"Then, you would be in violation of the standing orders between the Silver Hand and your own King's Law, for attacking a member of the Order without justified cause," Liam said simply.

"You're in a more dire situation, Paladin. Harboring one of the Horde is a criminal offense against the Alliance!"

Liam said firmly, "I will take my chances with the King's wrath . . . when he summons me to answer for such a crime. As we both know, he is only recently returned still, and has more pressing matters to deal with that this, small, matter."

Dughan's face nearly turned black, but the import of Liam's words quickly got through to his mind . . . and he let out an explosive sigh before he started to pace the length of the floor. "Damn you, Paladin! I'm bound to uphold the laws of Stormwind!"

"As I am bound to uphold my oaths," Liam countered.

Dughan bristled. "I should report you to the Constabulary and be done with the both of you!"

"That is your choice, Marshall . . . however, ther is one other thing to consider," Liam said. He stepped down from the stairs and stood before Dughan. "As it stands, both she and I saved the life of your daughter. The barmaid bore witness to that. For that, you should consider myself in your debt, hm?"

Shaking his head, Dughan muttered something Liam couldn't catch, but he clearly caught Liam's meaning. He shot a dark look at Freaja -- who had been watching the two men in silence -- before he waved a dismissive gesture at Liam. "Fine, she is your problem then, Paladin . . . but you will not be welcome here, while she is under your charge!" He whipped around, glaring at the dwarves in turn. "You, that elf and your companions have two hours to leave Goldshire, or I'll return with my men and have all of you dragged to the Stockades in chains. Consider those hours repayment for my daughter's life." With that, Dughan stomped towards the inn's entrance, brushing brusquely past Rhandall and Hanna before vanishing outside.

Watching the man go, Liam uncrossed his arms and let his sword drop until the point rested against the wooden floor. "Well, that didn't go like I expected."

Freaja shot Liam a hard look. "Humans," she said with a snort.

From the front of the room, both Rhandall and Hanna stared at Liam. "Well, now . . . this is just peachy!" The hunter smacked the but of his rifle against the floor, his bearded face bristling as he pointed an accusing finger at Liam. "You an' yer damned, blasted vows have gotten us all in dutch now! All because o'-OW!"

Snatching her hand back from where she'd slapped her cousin in the back of his head, Hanna snapped, "We've nae got time t'be playin' blame-games, ye dunderheaded son of a hill-dwarf. Not when we've got trouble by th' boatload here t'deal with now!"

Rhandall grunted, then glared at Hanna, before he started to stalk towards the stairs, making Freaja start to back up the steps in alarm. "Well, this is one piece o' trouble I am t'see dealt with. Because I ain't gonna be run outta here or be taken to the Stocks on account o' yer lily-white hide, lass!" As Rhandall started to reach out to grab her, Liam slapped his hand down on the dwarf's thick arm, and shoved him back several paces.

"Stay your hand and calm yourself, Rhandall," Liam said sternly. "No one is going to the Stockades; not you, or I and especially not her."

"What!?" Rhandall stared up at his companion in disbelief. "B-But, you heard the Marshall just now--!"

"Yes, but he did say we had two hours to leave Goldshire. That is time we should not be wasting." Liam looked at Freaja. "Lady, I'm sorry, but we must leave this place."

"I am not deaf, human," Freaja said archly. Straightening up, she only barely caught herself as she staggered against the steps.

"Nae, but ye may not be healed enough tae travel," Hanna said, shoving Rhandall aside to step up to Freaja's side. Reaching up to take the blood elf by the arm, she turned towards the top of the stairs. "Come, ye'll need help--."

Jerking her arm back, Freaja glared at the dwarf woman. "I do not need . . . ugh!" She reached up to hold her head as a sudden wave of dizziness came over her.

Hanna just scowled, but it was tempered with tolorance as she reached out again to the elf woman. "Perhaps, but ye need some fer th' 'nonce. Come. We'll get ye dressed fer travel, an' no arguing, lass." Glancing at Liam, she said, "Laddie, best ye an' my cousin go an' get th' mounts ready. We'll be joinin' ye presently."

Liam nodded. "We shall be waiting in the stables, Hanna." He looked at Freaja for a moment longer, then he turned and motioned to Rhandall. "Come my friend."

Rhandall growled under his breath. "Bloody brass bollocks!" He glared at his cousin meaningfully, before he turned to follow the paladin out of the inn.

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oOoOo

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Stalking away from the inn, Marshall Dughan was met by several of his militia. "Sir, we've managed to kill most of the raiders," a corporal reported. "However, a few of the blood elves escaped into the woods, towards the Westfall border."

Dughan scowled as he surveyed the surrounding village. Bodies of dead Sin'dorei, fallen soldiers and a scattering of villagers lay on the ground and roadway. "Did you dispatch anyone to chase the raiders down?"

"A token few, Marshall. We're calling up every available man and woman from the garrison, and I sent word to Stormwind, to see if any soldiers from their compliment can be spared."

Dughan shook his head. "Stormwind may not wish to send anyone . . . but, we cannot let any of those raiders get away."

"Sir, but what about the inn? Should we investigate--?"

"I'll not go chasing after phatoms, Corpral!" He shot a sharp look at the younger man. Blast that paladin! Got to send my men on a herring-chase, much as I don't want to! "This wasn't just a terror raid, cooked up by the Horde! Get moving, men. I want the rest of those raiders hunted down and captured to the last man!"

"Yes'sir!" With that, the corporal and his soldiers quickly left to carry out their orders.

Standing alone, Dughan snarled softly, before he shot a look back towards the inn. He spied Liam and one of the dwarves, just leaving the entrance to head for the stables near the village smithy. With a black look on his face, Dughan muttered, "That Sin'dorei had better be worth your oath, paladin. Just be thankful I gave you what time I could." With that said, he turned and marched off pass a lone vendor's cart to join his militia.

As he continued onwards, the marshall of Goldshire did not see the ripple of displaced air that shifted from behind one corner of the cart. This quickly faded, leaving behind a slim, leather-clad figure standing in the cart's dim shadow. Covered by a hooded cloak, this person peered after the departing Marshall, before turning their face towards the inn.

"Sin'dorei? With a paladin . . . hmm!" they said softly, before an amused chuckle followed their words. "Now, that bears some looking in to!" Without another word, the cloaked figure slipped along the back side of the cart, fading back into the cover of their steath spell . . . .

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-==- To Be Continued... -==-