Braghaman leaned back in his chair and glanced around the great room again. Madame Eva’s inn was as lively as it usually was. Adventurers of all stripes were coming and going, letting in the chill winter air. One gust shot through and hit the paladin like a knife. He shivered and then shifted closer to the hearth as he took another drink of his bourbon. Satisfied that the chill had been defeated, he started looking around again, only to find the owner of the inn standing at his shoulder.
“I trust all is well,” Madame Eva asked with a smile.
“As always,” Braghaman answered with his own smile and raising his mug.
Just then, another group of people stepped through the doors and walked up to the counter. Madame Eva nodded to the paladin before going to the group and getting them settled with a room for the evening. The group was a little loud for the room, joking about the number of skeletons that they had just defeated in the nearby cemetery. Their room acquired, they left to climb the stairs to the upper level.
Braghaman chuckled quietly and shook his head before taking another drink. As he lowered his mug, he found that Madame Eva had returned and was watching him closely.
“Lively group there,” Bragh said, nodding towards the stairs. “Seemed happy with their endeavors this evening.”
“True,” Eva replied.
“To be young again,” Bragh added, raising his mug in a toast.
“Yearning for more adventures, commander? Or are your days of galavanting around behind you now?”
“Oh I expect that I have a couple of adventures left in me,” Braghaman said slowly. “But I guess I’ve reached the point where I’m a little more picky with which ones I want to go on.”
“You’ve earned that right, of course.”
“Besides,” Bragh began as he shifted in his seat again, “training the newest paladins that Stormwind has to offer has its adventurous moments. Anyways, I think I’ve grown comfortable enjoying a semi-retired life with Niv. Let the younger generation have the fun for now.”
“Of course, commander,” Madame Eva said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course.” She turned and walked around the room to check in on other guests, but still noticing how the paladin sat facing the hearth, his gaze lost among the dancing flames.
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February Daily Writing Challenge 2025 Day 1: Hypnotic/Star
It was a clear, chilly night in Duskwood. Braghaman sat in his chair, leaning back and listening to the night sounds echoing across his back yard. Valiant lay on the ground beside the paladin’s chair, his eyes closed as his tail flicked from side to side. Bragh looked to his side and watched the flaming lion’s tail leave a trail of light across the ground. Several moments passed before Bragh tore his gaze away from the hypnotic patterns of light and leaned back in his chair. He looked up at the canopy of trees. Through one of the few breaks in the branches, one could see the stars of the night sky above. Bragh relaxed and stared at the points of light.
The paladin had lost track of time when he heard the door behind him open and the sound of soft footfalls coming near. He didn’t turn his head to look until he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder.
“Hi, Angel.” Bragh turned to Niviene standing next to him, looking down with a smile. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. You’d just been out here for a while so I came to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.”
“Not yet,” Bragh answered with a smile as he covered Niv’s hand with his own. “Just watching the stars.”
The priestess looked up at the sky for a moment then brought her gaze back to their yard. Holding on to Bragh’s hand, she moved around and sat in the chair next to his. “Clear night.”
“Sure is,” he responded with a squeeze of her hand.
“Longing to be out there? Adventuring under the stars?”
“Not really,” Bragh sighed. “Maybe a little,” he added with a chuckle. “But it’s not my time.”
“You’ve still got some good years left,” Niv said, returning the squeeze.
“Perhaps, but it’s not my show anymore. New stars out there. Up to them to keep the balance.”
“Like Banny?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Heard anything recently?”
“A little from the Meddlers. They seem happy with him. Haven’t heard from him since we left Bastion with his larion.”
“Not worried?”
“Maybe a bit of fatherly concern,” Bragh chuckled. “But he’s been well-trained and has good people watching his back.”
“Just like his father did.” Niviene looked at the paladin and smiled.
The paladin swung his war hammer and felt it connect with another enemy. He couldn’t see them, they always seemed to be shrouded in darkness, but he felt the hit and heard the crunch of what he assumed were bones. The enemy dropped to the ground and out of sight. He looked around but still couldn’t make out much detail. The only light was what he was creating himself. There was a part of his mind that wondered at that, this talent that he’d never displayed before, but the practical part of his brain shut that down. This is a fight. Time for curiosity later.
“Bragh!”
The voice cut through the darkness. The paladin began moving in the direction he thought, he hoped, the voice was coming from. Another shadow leapt at him, but he jabbed his war hammer into it and knocked it down to the ground. Bringing the weapon high, he swung it in a great arc at the ground and hammered the enemy into a pulp.
Ahead of him, Bragh could make out a change in the darkness. He pushed forward until he thought he could make out some shapes ahead of him. The air seemed to shift and he thought he could make out the base of a large tree. He heard movement as he stepped closer until finally he could see someone kneeling next to the trunk. The person was slight and leaning forward, dark hair spilling down and hiding their face.
“Who are you?” Bragh asked in a whisper, though even that seemed too loud and harsh for this place.
The figure looked up, her hair parting to show her face. With clear, bright eyes, she stared at the paladin and yelled, “Bragh!”
“Anaja??”
——
Braghaman’s eyes shot open and he bolted upright in his chair. He heard the sound of glass breaking but didn’t know where it came from. He looked around the room, expecting some form of attack but there was none. Forcing his breathing to slow down, he saw his knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the arms of his seat. With effort, he released his hold and that’s when he saw the shattered glass on the flood next to his feet. Slowly, the paladin sat back in his seat as he continued to try and force himself to calm down.
“Bragh?”
The paladin blinked a couple of times before turning to see Niviene standing in the hallway looking at him.
“I’m okay,” he answered, though not in a voice that would convince anyone.
“Another dream?” Niv asked as she stepped over to him and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.
“Yeah,” Bragh answered reluctantly.
“Same person?”
“No,” the paladin answered quietly, taking a slow deep breath and then letting it out. “Someone else who needed help, though. Just like all of the others.”
“What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. But I think I’ll head to the city tomorrow and ask around. Maybe somebody knows something.”
(Warning: not sure there are triggers, but this does get a bit dark.)
Braghaman shook his head and let out a groan. Everything was blurry when he first opened his eyes, but he sat patiently and took a couple of deep breaths and waited as his vision came back into focus. He looked around and saw that he was in a small room, about the size of a novice’s bedroom in the Cathedral. There was no furniture in the room, just shadows cast by the afternoon sunlight coming through the small window.
He looked down and saw that his armor had been removed while he was unconscious. He had been left in his leather pants and cotton shirt. He started to bring his hand up to his head to rub the spot where he had been hit and realized that he couldn’t. Flexing his arms, he heard the familiar sound of chains behind him that bound his wrists together. Bragh let out a quick breath and frowned slightly.
“So here we are,” the paladin said quietly to himself.
Braghaman managed to pull himself up to a sitting position and then scooted back against the wall. He then sat quietly, facing the door, with his head bowed and his eyes closed. When he finally heard keys being inserted into the lock of the door, Bragh opened his eyes and saw from the deepening shadows that some time had passed. The door opened and Bragh lifted his head just enough to see a paladin removing the key from the lock before stepping aside. Stepping past him, Lord Shadowbreaker stepped into the room and looked at Braghaman sitting on the floor.
“Larethian,” Shadowbreaker said quietly. Braghaman did not respond. “That was a poor choice.” Braghaman didn’t move. “You’re in a good amount of trouble, brother.” Braghaman lowered his head and closed his eyes.
The paladin trainer frowned and shook his head. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.
“There’s someone who wants to speak with you, Brother Larethian. It’s in everyone’s best interests if you behave. Do you understand?”
Braghaman continued to sit against the wall with his head bowed and breathing slowly.
“This is a bad idea,” Shadowbreaker said, looking back to the doorway.
Bishop Lancaster strode into the room, glancing at Shadowbreaker as he passed, giving him the barest of nods. “You may leave us paladin.” he said as he looked around the room before leveling a disdainful gaze on the prisoner.
He waited until he heard the door close before addressing the chained paladin, “So you’re the husband.” he sniffed contemptuously, “You are what drives Sister Niviene to treason. I must say, I do not understand her reasoning, you look hardly worth dying for. But then, it is said that like seeks like. Tell me? Are you raising your children to be deserters too?”
He looked Braghaman over, his voice changing to a more conspiratorial tone, “Perhaps you can tell the little woman to attend to her duties to the Light. Demand that she pay homage to the Cathedral and her king. You are her husband, make her commit to service to the kingdom.”
Braghaman slowly lifted his head to look at the bishop standing in front of him. Without warning, Bragh lunged forward a few inches and flexed his arms to make the chains of his shackles rattle. The bishop fell back and quickly cast a spell, a pale shield appearing around him. The paladin leaned back against the wall and tilted his head slightly. The neutral look on his face never changed through it all.
“I don’t remember seeing you on any battlefields,” Bragh said quietly as he relaxed and lowered his head again.
Bishop Lancaster gaped at the paladin, forcing himself not to retreat further though he knew the shielding spell wouldn’t last long. He straightened, gripping his staff tightly, “There are many battlefields, you could not have possibly been on them all. I was there. I am always there. Serving the Light as is my sworn duty. As it is that of your wife.”
He moved closer, though not close enough that Braghaman could reach him. “Had I been in charge at the time you would have never been permitted to wed. Marriage, children, they are a distraction. A priest’s only passion should be the Light, their only desire to serve it. Until death.”
Emboldened by the safe distance between the two of them Lancaster sneered, “This is what comes of consorting with warlocks. The two of you stink of them.”
“No,” Bragh answered with a shake of his head. “You’ve never been on a battlefield. At least not until it was safe for you to be there.” The paladin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. “I do not work for the Cathedral and have not for a while. You have no say in what I do with my life. Same for my wife.”
“A priest dedicates their life to the service. That duty never ends paladin.” he sniffed self righteously. “I will not speak for your lot but my priests serve the Light, the King, and the Kingdom. There is room for nothing else.”
“Seems to be enough room for your ambition,” Bragh answered with a smirk. “And she was serving the Light and the kingdom, just not in the way you wanted. She didn’t need to walk out onto the field and sling the Light around to make Azeroth better. Some make things better back home, that’s what the Light calls on them to do.”
Braghaman closed his eyes again. The paladin said nothing for a few more moments, seemingly ignoring the bishop. Then he cracked one eye open. “Actually, I imagine she’s doing more out there right now than you’re able to.”
“Let us pray that it is not too little too late to save her soul from damnation.” Lancaster glared at Braghaman, “It is blasphemy that dares to know what the Light calls us to do. You are no priest. You call yourself a paladin but you are merely another thug, using the Light to sew destruction and chaos at every turn. I’ve heard of your exploits Larethian. You’re trouble.” he gave a bark of dry, mirthless laughter, “the two of you are well suited.”
He pointed a long, boney finger at the paladin, “I can do nothing for you boy, but I will save her. Even if it’s the last thing that I do.”
“I’ve heard that talk before, bishop. ‘You’ve been corrupted. We’ll save your soul. You don’t know what you’re doing.’ You aren’t the first to say that kind of thing in front of me. It’s no more impressive coming from you than it was coming from the others.”
Braghaman lifted his head from the wall and opened his eyes, staring directly at the bishop.
“You say you’ve heard of me, that you somehow know me. Then you know what I’ve done to the others that threatened my family. And no, that’s not a threat. It’s a clarification. You call me blasphemous and a thug, yet I’ve done more in the service of the Light than you have. I have put my safety on the line to protect others while you sit comfortably in the back waiting for the limelight. What have you done? Thrown others into the fire without any thought to them or their safety. Putting people on the line whether they were fit for the job or not. Sacrificing others for your own desires and ambition. Explain to me how that is not blasphemous.”
“And just for the record,” Braghaman started to add, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes again. “She’s not yours. Not to order around and not to save.”
Lancaster laughed softly, nodding his head, “Aye I throw them to the fire. We are cleansed in flame. Those who do not survive are not worthy to call themselves children of the Light.” The laughter quickly ceased as the bishop looked at Braghaman, his face a picture of zealous fervor, “It is time she proves her mettle. The flames await.”
Braghaman snorted. “Trial by fire, eh? You sound an awful lot like Benedictus did. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s not the limelight that motivates you.” The paladin snorted again. “Willing to sacrifice the innocent to achieve their own goals. Yeah, sounds a whole lot like the old archbishop.”
Bragh opened his eyes a crack again and looked at the bishop. “And how exactly does that serve the Light, much less get the king back, sending innocent people to die in the ‘fire’? Not sure how much forgiveness there is in setting people up to die.”
“I would hardly call Sister Niviene innocent. She has cavorted with warlocks and trolls. She has served the shadow. Her soul is black as the abyss. But I can bring her back from that darkness. I will save her. But I will break her first.”
Lancaster turned toward the cell door, calling out to the guard, “I believe the good brother here has refused to repent. Be sure that he receives no rations for the several days. We’ll see if hunger can turn him.”
“Turn me, eh?” Braghaman repeated with a chuckle. “I didn’t realize you were trying to save me, too. Thought you didn’t care for my lot.”
“How right you are paladin. You can rot in the abyss for all I care. But I do gather some joy at the thought of you suffering. Joy is so hard to come by theses, one must take it where he can.”
Lancaster tapped a boney finger against his teeth, “Those children of yours… we will have to place them in the orphanage. No one will want them of course. They will be raised by the church. They will know what it is to serve the Light correctly.”
The bishop turned at a sharp rapping on the door, moving forward he leaned against the grate as a courier muttered to him. Lancaster chuckled and nodded, “Excellent. I knew she would come around.”
He looked at Bragh, a self satisfied grim splitting his gaunt features, “Sister Niviene has seen the error of her ways. She has thought for nothing but serving the Light, of caring for her patients. I am positive that by the time I am through with her, she will be through with you. She will return to the cathedral and service to me.”
“At least you’re being honest now,” Bragh responded, closing his eyes again. “This was never about the Light. It was always about you and what you wanted. Right, Benedictus? Especially if you have her taking care of patients. That was never her calling. But hey, as long as you get what you want, right, Bennie? Never knew someone serving the Light and also taking joy in people’s suffering. Oh, and you don’t need to worry about our kids. They’re perfectly safe.”
Braghaman shook his head slightly and opened his eyes again. “You don’t serve the Light in this. And all your posturing and bleating won’t change that. All you’re doing now is trying to punish people you don’t like.”
“In that you are wrong. I like Sister Niviene. I like her very much. She’s a pretty little thing isn’t she?” Lancaster licked his lips unconsciously, “She would be radiant were she to turn to the Light. I will see it done. I will cleanse her soul, I will save her.” he looked at Bragh, his muddy brown eyes shining, “I will have her.”
“So it’s not the Light you serve. Just lust. Lusting after another man’s wife, using whatever justification you can come up with you justify it.” Braghaman shook his head again, but his eyes were wide and staring at the bishop. “Not exactly the holy man that everyone should be looking up to, is it? I came here thinking you were doing this because you thought it would get you more power. Maybe you expected it would pave the way to being archbishop. I guess I was wrong. Your motivations look to be a lot more base.”
“I will have power. The power of the church, and power over her. I will bend her t o my bidding and together we will cleanse this kingdom of the filth that floods its streets and clouds the morals of its people. She will be the angel at my side, inspiring the masses to follow where I lead.” he looked at Bragh, down the length of his nose, “The first thing I will do is throw the paladin rabble out of the cathedral.”
“Paladin rabble, eh?” Braghaman repeated loudly. “You feel okay with that Shadowbreaker?”
Lancaster started to say something but was interrupted by the door opening and Lord Shadowbreak stepped into the room. “I can’t say that I am, brother. How’d you know I was out there?”
“Figured that you’d stick around to make sure I behaved,” Bragh answered with a smirk.
“Right,” Shadowbreaker replied with a slight frown before turning his attention to the bishop. “Rabble?”
Lancaster started at the sound of Shadowbreaker’s voice. He quickly gathered his wits and straightened to his full height, squaring his shoulders, “Rabble. Yes. If your men are an ounce like this one they must all be cast out. You do not deserve to walk the hallowed halls of the cathedral with your filthy boots.”
The bishop grasped hold of his staff and stepped forward, shoving passed the elder paladin. “Out of my way paladin. I am needed in the Shadowlands.”
Lord Shadowbreaker took the bishop by the arm and pulled him back into the room. “We’re not done here.” The bishop looked startled as he was almost taken off his feet, glancing at the gloved hand that was still holding on to him. “Guard. Get in here. Unlock his manacles.”
Another paladin stepped into the room and walked around the trainer and the bishop. He leaned down next to Braghaman, reaching behind him and unlocking the manacles around his wrists. Bragh stood up slowly and glanced between Shadowbreaker and Lancaster.
“Now, bishop,” Shadowbreaker said, leaning closer to the bishop. “You and I have some things to discuss. And I dare say the other leaders would like to be a part of this as well.”
The bishop jerked out of the paladin’s grasp, “By right do you detain me? This only proves my statement! I will have you out. All of you! Now get out of my way. I have to go retrieve my priestess.”
Braghaman lunged forward and pushed Lancaster in the back, sending him into the wall next to the door. The paladin then grabbed the back of the bishop’s robes and yanked him backwards, pulling him off his feet. The bishop fell to the ground on his back and before he could do anything else Bragh was on top of him with his left hand around Lancaster’s throat.
“I warned you not to talk about my family,” Braghaman said through gritted teeth. He brought his right hand back and then struck Lancaster in the jaw. He struck again and then a third time, causing a cracking sound to echo in the room. The bishop’s eyes rolled up into his head as the paladin brought his hand up to strike a fourth time. But before he could land another blow, he felt someone grab his arms and pull him off the prone bishop.
“Stop Larethian,” Shadowbreaker said loudly in Bragh’s ear. “Stop!”
Braghaman looked around and saw the paladin who had freed him holding one arm and Shadowbreaker the other. He looked down at the bishop who groaned as a thin trail of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth.
“We’ll deal with this, Larethian,” Shadowbreaker said calmly. “We’ll get your wife back and we’ll deal with him.”
Braghaman pulled his arm free and stood up straight. Eventually he was able to control his breathing, though the anger in his eyes didn’t fade.
“You’d better,” Braghaman said quietly, taking a step back from the bishop.
The Larethian home sat silently in the shadow of the nearby forest of Duskwood. Niviene walked into the bedroom to find Braghaman already in bed with his eyes closed. The priestess smiled, moved over to the bed and turned down the covers before sitting on the edge. She started to lean forward to blow out the lamp on her nightstand when she paused. Niv’s smile faded as she looked around the room and slowly sat back up.
“Bragh?”
“Huh?”
“Something’s wrong.”
Bragh’s eyes shot open and he turned his head to look at Niviene, still sitting on the edge. “Did you hear something?”
“No. But something is wrong. Can’t you feel it?”
Braghaman sat up and tilted his head slightly, his eyes looking down. After a moment, the paladin pushed the covers aside and got up. He walked over to the window and pushed the curtains aside so that he could see road.
“You feel it?”
“Yeah, angel. You’re right.” Bragh let the curtain fall back and moved the dresser. He pulled out some clothes and quickly put them on. Sitting back on the bed, Bragh started pulling one of his boots on when he noticed that Niviene was already dressed.
“What do you think it is?”
“Not sure,” Bragh grunted as he pulled his other boot on. “Doubt it’s any good.”
“Dad?” Niviene and Braghaman looked over to the doorway and saw Banagan standing there. “Something’s wrong.”
Niv and Bragh looked at each other for a moment before looking back at Banny.
“You feel it, too, son?”
Banny just nodded. Braghaman opened his mouth to say something, but before he got a word out a scream echoed outside. The priestess and paladin looked at each other again and then started moving. Braghaman stepped past his son and walked down the hallway. Niviene walked over to Banny and put her hand on his arm.
“Go get your sister. Quickly.”
Banagan left and Niv could hear him running up the stairs. Moments later, she heard more footsteps coming down and then Banagan appeared with Korissa in the doorway.
“Good,” Niv began. But before she could say anything else, Braghaman appeared and stood behind the kids. He had already pulled his breastplate on and with one hand he held out a staff to Niviene. She took it and smiled slightly. Then she noticed the mace and massive warhammer he was holding in the other.
“Get your things, son,” Braghaman said calmly. Banny looked at his father, first in confusion and then with surprise. Without saying anything, he turned and sprinted back up the stairs. Bragh glanced over at Niviene and the priestess raised an eyebrow slightly. Bragh nodded slightly.
“Momma, what’s going on?”
“Something’s happening outside,” Niviene explained as she stepped over to the young girl and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Louder footsteps came stomping down the steps and Banagan reappeared pulling a chainmail shirt into place with one hand and holding a wooden mace in the other. He stopped next to the rest of the family and stood up straight, as if waiting for an inspection. Bragh and Niv exchanged glances again. The paladin then held his hand out to his son and motioned for the mace. Banny looked at the wooden weapon in his hand momentarily and then handed it over to his father.
Braghaman took the wooden mace and, without looking at it, tucked it under his arm. He then took the mace he’d been holding and handed it to Banagan. It was larger than what Banny had been carrying, made of a silver metal that glowed slightly. Banagan took hold of the mace and looked it over, marveling that it felt just as light as his wooden one and seemed to vibrate slightly in his hands. Bragh then took the wooden mace and knelt down in front of Korissa and handed it to her. The young girl tentatively took the the mace, looking first at it, then to Bragh, and then finally to Niviene.
Braghaman stood up and put his hand on Banny’s shoulder. “Don’t leave the house. Keep your sister safe.”
“Listen to your brother,” Niviene added, giving Korissa’s shoulder a squeeze. “Help him.”
“Ready?” Bragh asked as he hefted his warhammer onto his shoulder and looked a Niviene.
‘Yes,” Niviene answered softly, but with steel in her voice.
Braghaman gave his son a pat on the shoulder and then started walking down the hallway. Niviene kissed Korissa on the head and let her go, then squeezed Banagan’s arm before following Braghaman.
“Lock the door behind us. Don’t open for anyone except us.”
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It was a quiet night at the Larethian house. A breeze pushed through the trees outside and brushed up against the house, but the inside was warm and secure from the cool winds of the season. All the candles had been snuffed and shadows danced throughout the home. Only the sounds of sleep could be heard inside.
Deeper into the night, a grunt could be heard from the first floor. Soon another followed. And then another. Braghaman lay on his back, shifting a little from side to side. Suddenly, he grunted again as his head turned to the side and his arms flew into the air as if to ward off an attack. His eyes opened and then blinked several times as he tried to focus on the objects in the dark. Slowly he lowered his arms and brought his right hand to his face.
Beside the paladin, Niviene stirred slightly. Mumbling something, the priestess turned on her side to face Bragh and placed a comforting hand on his arm before she fell back to sleep.
Bragh took a few moments to control his breathing. Calmer, he reached over and patted Niv’s hand. Satisfied, the priestess’ hand withdrew and she curled back up under the blankets. Bragh slid out from under the covers and off the side of the bed as cautiously as he could, so as not to wake Niv. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he moved around the bed and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Once out in the living room, Bragh sat down heavily on his chair and took a couple deep breaths. Slowly, almost mechanically, he reached up and untied the leather straps in his hair. He took a moment to run his fingers through the hair before putting it back into a pair of messy braids and tying them off again. That habit done, he looked at the table in front of him and the candle that sat on it. The paladin reached forward and pulled the matchbox free from the holder. Taking a match out, he struck it and lit the candle, then waved the match until it went out. Bragh placed the burnt match on the rim of the candle holder and then sat back in his chair.
The paladin stared at the flame of the candle. While his breathing had slowed, the look in the paladin’s eyes had not changed. He stared blankly at the dancing flame of the candle. Whatever he had seen in his sleep was slow to leave him.
“Dad?”
Braghaman’s head jerked as he looked to the hallway. Standing in the shadows of the house, young Banagan took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light of the candle. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, Banny then started walking into the living room.
“Are you okay, son?”
“I had a bad dream,” Banagan answered as he stepped over to his father’s chair. Without ceremony, he climbed up onto the Bragh’s lap and rested his head against paladin’s shoulder.
“Its okay now. Nothing can get you here.”
“There were people fighting. They were really angry.”
“Someone you know?”
“No,” Banny answered, but then paused. “There were skeletons everywhere. And they were angry, too.”
“Sounds like some dream,” Braghaman said calmly as he patted Banny’s shoulder.
“Could the skeletons outside ever get inside?”
“No son, we took precautions to make sure that wouldn’t happen.”
“What about the new house? When we move there? Will they get inside of there?”
“No. We’ll take the same precautions there, too.”
“Can we do more. Just to be sure?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Can we build a wall around it? Like the city has?”
“I’m not sure we can build a wall like Stormwind’s.”
“Maybe an armory, then? So if something gets inside we can fight back.”
“It may be a little late to put one of those into the constructions plans.”
“I just don’t want the skeletons getting in. They had armor and were scary looking.”
Braghaman looked down at his son, whose eyes were closed as he leaned against the paladin. Bragh watched his son for a few minutes more, taking in what the young man had said. A look of concern appeared on his face and almost as quickly disappeared. Patting his son’s shoulder again, Bragh let out a slow breath.
“It’ll be okay, son. Nothing is going to get in here. I promise.”
With a downward swing, Braghaman brought his made down on the skull of the skeleton that the paladin had been fighting. With a grunt, he pulled his mace from the bone and quickly scanned the area. At his feet were the remains of three other skeletons that had been fighting him. The paladin could hear the rattle of bones from other parts of Raven Hill cemetery, but nothing was nearby.
Bragh took a moment to catch his breath before moving past the broken fence around the cemetery. He didn’t have to go too far before he found the body. On the ground were the bloody remains of an adult. The victim’s clothing lay shredded on the ground around the body.
“Guess you got too close to the fence, didn’t you?” Braghaman whispered as he knelt next to the body.
“I see you got my invitation.”
Braghaman jumped up and turned around quickly, holding his mace up in front of him and shield at the ready. Standing a few meters away, near the fence, was a lone figure dressed in black robes with the hood pulled low. Shadows concealed the person’s face.
“Are you responsible for this?” Braghaman asked, taking a step towards the mysterious person.
“Nope,” the robed person said, a female voice coming from the hood. “But maybe he got the wrong idea that there was treasure to be found there.”
“Why would you do that?”
“You’re here, right?”
“If you wanted to speak with me, you could’ve just come to town,” Braghaman said, his voice getting an edge.
“But what we have to talk about is private,” the robed woman said, not moving as the paladin slowly stepped closer.
“Well, I’m here now. Say what you have to say before I take you in to the authorities and let them sort you out.”
“Fine,” the woman answered. Pointing her right hand towards the paladin, she reached up with her left and pulled the hood back. “I’m home, honey!” She spoke a word and fire erupted from her hand and flew towards the paladin.
“Anaja?!” Braghaman yelled with wide eyes. He brought his shield up as flames splashed around the edges.
Braghaman woke with a start, sitting up violently in bed. The paladin panted, gulping for breath. The chill of the night air washed over him as he frantically looked around the room, expecting another attack. Niviene was shifting beside him in the bed.
“Okay?” the priestess mumbled, still mostly asleep.
“Yeah,” Braghaman said after a moment. The paladin took slow, deep breaths as he tried to slow the beating of his heart. Bragh lowered himself down onto the bed and pulled the covers up. “Yeah, angel. I’m fine.”
Braghaman sat to one side of the couch, a healthy fire going in the hearth before him. His left hand held a glass of bourbon as he leaned on the armrest. In his right hand, a piece of paper. The paladin looked at it again, re-reading the same passages as before.
I can’t say that I am friends with him, or that I really know him at all, but Arator seems a nice enough person. I do feel bad for him. Things didn’t seem to work out the way that he had hoped. At least that’s the impression I had. And with his family being involved in it, I guess that only made it more challenging.
The Maw, sad to say, was pretty much what I thought it would be. Maybe even a little more. Never thought that I’d go there myself, but I guess that’s just the nature of what we do. I think I have a little better understanding for why you never really talk about the place.
Having met Sylvanas, I’d say she’s not at all what I expected. Having heard stories about the “ranger-general” and the “Warchief”, I expected something different I guess. Something more detestable maybe? I don’t know. But the person that I met there, well I guess I could almost have sympathy for them if I wasn’t already aware of who they were. Her actions there didn’t really match up with what I’d heard before.
The paladin shook his head slightly. Then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Setting the glass down on the armrest, he reached up and covered the hand with his own as he turned to look at the priestess standing beside him.
“How is Banny doing?” Niviene asked with a smile.
“”As well as we were back in the day,” Bragh answered with a smile. He laid the letter on his lap while giving Niv’s hand a squeeze. “He’s finished up one adventure and looks to be getting ready for another.”
“I’m sure he’ll be as safe as we were,” Niv said, returning the smile.
