#briggette

A symphony of gold and red bathed the stone walls of Tyr’s Hand as the sun set on the area. Inside the walls, the sounds of the Dawn settling in for the night were evident even from the courtyard. A golden adorned paladin crossed from Abbey to Keep. She paused next to the restored fountain, a moment of respite and introspection as water within the marble edifice flowed from top to base. Moments passed in calm then broken by the sound of a horse neighing in the distance had the paladin looking to the gates. A patrol was just returning, reminding of duties still to be cared for before day’s end. 

Those thoughts propelled her to the room she’d claimed as her refuge. The golden armor was carefully removed, each piece set aside and wiped down reverently. Bri had taken her father’s armor and created a testament to the Dawn. Her fingers traced the wings, delicately formed from his pauldrons. Almost she could hear his calm deep voice telling her stories of valor and fighting for a purpose. Being here in the land those stories were formed in seemed to bring him to her thoughts more and more often.  She could hear the stories in her head and almost see him adorned in gold and silver, sword in hand ready to stop whatever threatened the peace of this land. 

Her hand went to the wings at her neck. She had found her own valor and purpose here within the Dawn. Each day a chance to reprove her loyalty and devotion. Each day offered up like a prayer for the Dawn’s continued strength. Each day lived for those she’d lost in and out of the Dawn. 

She turned from her musings and dressed. A soft skirt and blouse, soft soled boots and her libram as always attached to her belt. No armor other than the Light, no weapon other than her faith. The paladin was sure in her place and the new yet old title was carried with a sense of duty. 

She made her way from the keep once more to the smaller chapel where evening prayers were just beginning. The history of Tyr’s Hand a presence, like a hand upon her shoulder, as she stepped within the chapel. Dawn banners hung next to windows showing scenes of silver hand and argent battles.

Her steps were whispers upon the marble as she found an empty pew. Libram pulled into her lap, Bri settled in. Her gaze lifting to those stained glass windows and thoughts still upon her father but then turning to more pressing and current matters. Her mind chased details still to be cared for, worries for things happening on Dawncall, and how to squeeze a trip to Elwynn and Feralas into her already busy schedule. 

She looked up when the call for heads to be bowed went out and Bri tsked internally letting her mind clear. Letting the priest's words enter, soothing her worries and sustaining her faith. She felt the aura of Light from those around her mingling and bolstering her own. Renewed with a sense of calm, warmth and hope practically glowing on her face. As the evening services concluded she rose, a smile and nod to those who spoke congratulations to her as she passed. 

With one last glance upon the windows of history, Bri left the chapel to return to the keep. 

Inside the keep, her purposeful steps took her to the small office she’d claimed for herself. A stack of correspondence and orders sat ready to go out in the morning. Another smaller stack still required her to review and pen replies.  A step saw her behind the desk and settling into her chair. Careful attention was given to her duties until she heard the bells chime once and the disconcerting wait for more had her stretching aching muscles turned stiff as she’d hunched over her desk to write. A quick note penned and  left for her squire to deliver everything to its marked recipient. 

Bri wandered the keep’s hall fingers trailing along the wooden railing on the way to her rooms. Again her mind returns to her earlier thoughts of her father. Would he be proud of her? That she now embraced the title he’d worked hard to retain for his children’s legacy?  Albeit this title was of the Dawn, and she had embraced it because of the Dawn. Still, she wondered, would he be happy with her path.  

Moonlight bathed her room in a silvery glow, as she closed the door to her room. A lone candle was lit and bounced off the armor she’d doffed earlier.  Her shadow crossed back and forth as she prepared for bed. The pile of responsibilities she sorted through in her thoughts, an order created and a schedule planned, her thoughts drifting back once more to the honor bestowed on her earlier.

The sounds of scales brushing against stone echoed through the corridors. The prisoners were ushered through the dark, the chains making a strange counterpoint to the Naga scales. Briggette gripped the metal holding her hostage and tried to keep a hand on the soldier in front of her. He was terrified of the dark closing in around them and it was her hushed directions as well as the grip on his shoulder that was keeping him from collapsing in front of her. She was sure if he fell, the Naga would waste no time killing him, cutting his hands free to keep the prisoner’s moving. They’d done it once already and Bri had strengthened her resolve that she was going to keep this band of Dawnsmen alive until their forces could find and rescue them. She had no doubts they would come. 

The Naga left the group in a stone room, some kind of sea creature affixed to the walls gave light to the area. There were more prisoners here. Horde. Ankoan. Giblin. Alliance. Dawnsmen. A tauren seemed to be tending to a wounded dwarf. A forsaken aided a human by bringing over a cup of water. A draenei spoke quietly with a sin’dorei. 

The prisoners had the freedom of the room and were for the most part left to themselves. Food was brought periodically. Bri began to use that to measure the time. Twice a day the Naga brought strange fruits and bread. Where they got the bread no one questioned but all would take a portion and eat. Water in the form of an opening high in the wall no bigger than Bri’s hand poured into a pool that seemed to go deeper than even a forsaken could go ensured those in chains were at least not going to die of dehydration. 

The days passed broken only by two groups of prisoners being taken out daily to mine. Azerite was being gathered by the Naga for what purpose none knew. Bri and a Draenei spoke with the tauren and a sin’dorei who seemed to be leading those of the Horde. The four of them quickly became the source of inspiration and motivation. Taking care of their people and making plans to find a way out. 

Bri prayed each night as she tried to fall asleep. She prayed for the people around her to make it through the next day. She prayed no more Dawnsmen would be captured. She prayed for the Dawn’s scouts to find a trace of them. And she prayed the injuries would be minimal when they did come. For she knew they would come. And a reckoning would be had.

She drifted in darkness.  Flashes of scenes played for her. Sometimes she saw herself. Sometimes Bast. Sometimes she saw other Dawnsmen.  The only constant was the pain. Though its intensity wavered. 

They’d been on the ocean. Chasing Horde vessels per the Highlord’s command. Even he had been a part of the mission to retrieve some item from the ships in front of them. They were catching up. Morale was high among the crew as Bri stood at the railing marveling at their speed and preparing herself for the inevitable conflict when they caught the ships.

Then a strange feeling had permeated the air. Everything went silent. Then a roar of water crashed over them as a spout shot up in front of the Horde ships they were right behind.

The entire ship rocked. She was flying through the air. No time for even a scream as she was thrown up away from the solid ground. 

The next second saw her trying desperately to not drown as the water covered her. She fought against nothingness as she tried to find the top and air. She saw the mast of a ship falling toward her. The rush of air as she broke through but her brain tried to make sense of what was happening as the mast was still falling toward her.

The wood hit her and she was slammed to the ground below her. Pain wracked her body. She tried to call upon the light to help her push through but then the ship crashed next to her. Another piece of wood flew out and hit her head. The last thing she saw was the flag of the Dawn and she passed into darkness with hope someone would find her.