Slydel’s Diary and notes.
There are many questions that I have from the last few days; maybe I am just misunderstanding everything that is going on around me. Well most things again.
The other night I had talked to Xavior and I couldn’t help but feel that he is very sad deep down inside, and I had been asked by a friend to try to help him with things. Though I do not think Tailn expected things like this to happen. Where to start really?
((Inspiration for the post came from this Johnny Cash song))
Cynric paced anxiously. Isolde was asleep in the other room, turning over silently in her sleep now and again. He could feel the sweat dripping down his palms as he leant his forehead against the doorframe and gripped the sides of the oaken paneling. His heartbeat was slow and painful.
Thats what he was.
Every time he was called to rise to the occasion, he fell.
He hadn't been able to save the little boy in Duskwood when he'd first became a Paladin.
He could feel it.
He could feel its warming presence flowing through his body. He could feel the soothing ways of the light as they washed through his body in powerful yet gentle waves. The Paladin would have preferred to pray in a chapel, but the nearest one was in Tarren Mill and he'd have had to fight through scores of Forsaken and Horde sell-swords who had made a living for years preying on the peaceful farmers of Hillsbrad.
It would not be wise to give the desiccated corpses any sort of provocation. Any sort of justification to commit more atrocities on the grounds that their holdings had been raided by a human.
He had often wondered what exactly had driven him to join the Crusade. It hadn't been for glory. He hadn't done it for riches or fame. He'd aligned himself with them because he had decided that their values were very similar to his. But deciding to go through the process to become a Crusader had been a different matter altogether. Many of the men and women who'd trained to become paladins alongside him as a boy were now either in charge of Noble families in Stormwind or dead. Yet he'd felt no ambition to become a Noble. Cynric had always been uncomfortable around wealth and decadence, likely because he had grown up in an orphanage, a casualty of Stromgarde's defeat. Stormwind was the city that had raised him, but he had no home. If he were to have one, it would be in the old country if it were retaken, or in a neutral land that the Horde would not attack.