They say that the life of a paladin is simple, praying for the living and blessing the dead. Converting the fallen and helping the confessors find salvation. Others did not understand that duty ends where the sight of man ends and the spirit begins. The day seemed different that day, a sense of doom looming above my monastery. This doom would break the very foundation that I have lived upon, and it all started with a knock made by a small hand…

The small, familiar rapping of bone on wood woke me from my quiet slumber on the cold wind of an early Sunday morning.  I pulled myself together and gathered my clothing and walked wearily towards the large wooden door that led to the civilization that is the famed Camelot.  I slowly opened the door fearing that it was another drunk looking for a blessing, or even worse confession, but alas it was a boy, short of stature and as pale as the moon stood in my doorway with a smile that could light up the devil’s heart.  He did not speak as I had expected, because pages were not told to speak unless the message was urgent, but instead held out his small white hand which held a folded piece of parchment with a seal of green wax stamped in the middle.  I retrieved the letter from his hand and he skipped along the cobblestone path towards the city center, which would lead him to the castle of King Arthur.  I had known Arthur since he was a boy, we were in the same monastery and school together and shared many good times over the years, but ever since he became king and named me a paladin it has been a very quiet relationship.  As I looked upon the letter though I noticed the all too familiar seal upon the parchment, the one used by the royal scribe for the king, but was not in its usual gold color.  I opened the letter to see why, this was a letter personally written by my dear friend Arthur to be delivered to me immediately, as I read further into the letter’s content it was a favor that I go deal with a corrupt duke in the upper county of Devlin.  It spoke that he has mercilessly slaughtered his people and had retreated to his castle and will not speak to the king to resolve his problems, so Arthur wanted to send a holy warrior to deal with the corrupted duke and trusted no one more than me. 

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So, I opened up the dusty closet that held the old blood-soaked armor and the holy blades of a paladin, I first grabbed Redemption, my trusty claymore that has seen more combat than the honorable king himself.  As I buckled the silver and blue ivory encrusted armor to the holy engraved silver chain mail, I started going through my head the magic I had learned to use and began to practice on the scattered bowls and cups left by the confessionals in past nights.  I could still levitate them even though I was years out of practice, I could still feel the auras around the living plants in my room, which I could draw upon to fuel my powers.  I tried to use my other powers, but it would take a while before I was back up to speed again.  I called for one of the monks to get my horse, and with a glowing face the monk asked the reason, and I simply replied,” I have another soul to save.”  And with that, I rode off into the countryside towards the clouded region of Devlin.