Conquest of the Horde

Resignation...

YOU CANNOT PROTECT THEM! YOUR FAITH MEANS NOTHING!

Archilia raised her plated fists and slammed the table, her face contorted in anger as tears began to drip down her face. 'All of them. Dead. Orders are orders, but I should’ve gone. I could have saved them… She slammed the table again. This is not the first time the Church has stopped me from saving lives. From smiting evil. Fro-…'

KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Sir Archilia Lightheart. I am Brother Valentini, Bishop Alexander is ready to see you.” Archilia looked towards the door, frowning heavily. She stood and walked towards the door, wiping her tears on her tabard and opening the door. The bald priest bowed and moved aside, allowing Archilia to pass freely. “Good luck, sister.” She simply nodded to the priest and continued down the hall. Her walk displayed confidence as she had her head held high and chest pushed forward. Eyes locked forward, she resembled a rebel dying for a noble cause more than a Paladin of the holy Light. The clinking and heavy steps of her plate armor are the only sounds that could be heard echoing through the Cathedral as several of the other paladins eyed and shook their head at her. Archilia simply ignored them, too deeply immersed in her thoughts to notice or care about them.

A massive wood door was the only thing that stood between Archilia and the bishop. Taking one last moment to collect her thoughts, she took a deep breath and stepped through the door. “Greetings, Archilia. It is good to see you.” The tall man smiled at her, arms linked behind his back.

“Bishop Alexander… I suppose you know why I’m here.” She gave him a stern look.

“Indeed, Archilia… I would ask that you reconsider. You’ve done nothing but help us. You are not only a strong paladin, but a good person and a true follower of the Light. I could see you becoming a great lead-.”

“Spare me, Alexander. You know why I’m here. You know –exactly- why I’m doing this. I can’t keep doing this. People are suffering. People are dying and you send me to be ‘the Church’ influence’. That is not what the Light teaches. It is not about influence, it is about protecting the world! Making sure everyone can sleep at night. People matter, not rank!” She stared at the bishop and held her position.

“I see… If that is what you truly believe, then what are you planning on doing? Going out to the world and saving people? You think you can just do that, Archilia? You will be killed. Remember the virtues! Not all-”

“Do not quote the virtues to me, Alexander. I know them as well as you do. I have plans. Perhaps you will see me, perhaps not.” She sighed heavily as she slowly knelt down. The bishop opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by her. “I hereby renounce my rank and my influence, within the Church of the Holy Light. No longer bound by orders, no longer giving orders, I am a free Light.” She stands, the bishop’s head shaking in disappointment. “May the Light bless you, Father Alexander and may it keep you from harm.” Her face showed no emotion as she bowed and turned, heading straight out the door.

“And you, Archilia. For your sake, I hope you have made the right decision…” He looked down in disappointment as the door shut loudly.

Walking to her room in the Cathedral, she saw many of her former brothers and sisters, most of whom completely ignored her. She stepped into her room and sighed as she began to undress. The weight of the plate armor, leaving her shoulders she placed it on the manikin and dressed in a simple robe. “I am in need of much self-judgement...”. Entering her closet, she removed a large bag and placed it on the table and began to move from drawer to drawer, removing clothing and placing it in the bag. Afterwards, she reaches over the table and grabs a massive tome. Opening it, she reads for a moment, stopping at a particular prayer. She reads it, allowing herself to be filled with the Light. A faint white slow surrounds her for a moment, before she shuts the book and places it in her bag. Lifting it and hanging it over her shoulder, she returns to the hallway and heads for the exit. Without a single word, she walked out of the Cathedral.

Busy Streets and Leaving Home...


The bustling streets of Stormwind never cease to bore. Especially in the Dwarven District. Dwarven merchants running amok trying to sell their armor or weapons, showing off their rare trinkets and bargaining their prices. Usually, they’re drunk while doing this, but no one minds. Dwarves drink and no one cares.

Archilia was not here for drinking, she had other business in mind. Walking a straight path, she ignored all the dwarven yells as she turned a corner onto a less busy street. Turning once again, she ended up in an alleyway where a single dwarf man sat, snoring. His hat covered his face, but he was a dirty one. His overalls were stained in every color of the rainbow and his palms were covered in black powder. Archilia sighed as she walked over, calmly and sent a strong kick to the dwarf’ shin. The dwarf jumped up and began hopping, yelling and holding his shin.

“BY TH’ GREAT ANVIL! Who th’ Fel di’ tha’ y- Archilia?” He continued to hop, a very confused look on his face. “Wha’ th’ FEL was tha’ for? Done nothin’ to ya!”

“You’re sleeping on the job, Marf! In an alley!” She smacks her head. “What are you thinking?”

“Wha’ are you thinkin’!?” He rubs his shin. “Damn I’… Wha’ th’ fel you wan’ then? Wan’ more armor or somethin’?” He looks down and plops himself down, nursing his shin like a wild animal licking its wounds.

“I’m here just for a small favor.”

“So ya kick me, then, eh? No’ givin’ ya shi’!” Marf looks at her defiantly.

“I’ve left the Church. I want you to take the armor and blade that you forged for me and melt it down into farming equipment. Bring it to some of the farms around Elwynn and Westfall who need it. Understand?” She crosses her arms and leans on her left leg. The dwarf’ eyes burst from their sockets.

“Ya’ve left th’ Church, lass!?” He sighs and stands, waving for her to follow. “Come inside for a bi’. We gotta little chit-chat ta do.” Without argument, Archilia simply follows Marf to the house on the left of the alley. Walking into the door, she notices a small table on her right, along with a stove and counter-top. On the left, a small oven, steel, anvil and barrel, however she made straight for the table and took a seat, followed by the dwarf with two cups of water. “Archilia, wha’ are ya thinkin’?”

“You don’t know the Church as I do, friend. I want to help people, I do not want to be part of any politics, as the Church is steadily becoming. They gave me orders and I was not to do anything else. I can’t-“

“Ya can’ save everybody, darlin’. Ya followin’ in th’ paths of Arthas, when thinkin’ like tha’.” Archilia eyed the dwarf, hate in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that. I am nothing like him, nor will I fall like him.” She takes a deep breath. “I cannot stand by and watch people die. Not when I can stop it.” Marf sighs heavily and shrugs.

“Ya do wha’ ya wan’, but I gotta ask, why’re ya droppin’ off your armor an’ sword? Need ‘em don’tcha?” He quirks his brow.

“Not where I’m headed, Marf. I have some training to do and this is step one.” The dwarf narrows his eyes.

“Step one, eh?” He glances to both sides, before leaning in. “’Tis a dangerous path ya’re headed on, Archilia. You’d best stop while ye’re ahead…” Archilia shakes her head.

“It’s far too late, the decision has been made and I am ready.” She stares at the dwarf. He sighs again.

“I know this is ‘cause of Northrend, but ya can’t-“

“Will you take my armor and do as I asked or not?” She hisses. He brings a fist up to his chin and hums quietly, in deep thought. He nods.

“Aye… I’ll gather it up at th’ Church after…” She stands, leaving her full cup on the table. Turning, she heads straight for the door.

“Thank you, Marf. My reasons are my own for doing this, but I know this is right.” The door shuts just after she finishes talking.

Her next stop, was the Stormwind Tailor in the Trade District, perhaps the busiest district in all of Stormwind. Dodging through the people, she arrives to the quaint little building. Walking in, the woman behind the counter smiles. “Welcome to Copperton’ Charity. I’m Tanya, how may I help you?” Archilia places the bag on the counter and smiles. “These are all my clothes. I’d like for you to give them to the women on the streets for me. I’m afraid you would be much more efficient at distributing them then I would.” She chuckles lightly and pushes the bag closer to Tanya. Tanya on the other hand as a confused look on her face as she stares at the bag. When she looks up to Archilia, she has already left.

Stopping at the bank, Archilia heads to the nearby mail office and places the large sack of gold coins and hands it to the mailman, asking it be delivered to the Stormwind Orphanage. She also hands him her personal tome of prayers and tells him to bring it to the orphanage as well. The confused mailman took it and left. Leaving Archilia and the only possessions she has left, her drab clothing.

Archilia headed towards the exit of the city. Nodding and smiling at the surrounding people, she arrived to the gates. Some of the guards stared at her in confusion, but she simply smiled and nodded at them as she stepped out of the city. She turned back and looked at the city before heading deeper into the woods. This may be the last time she sees her beloved home of Stormwind.

Me, Myself and a Templar...

Archilia opened her eyes. A crack of daylight shone through one of the many holes in the wooden walls. She looked around; making sure the house was empty and sighed. She had been praying all night and had received no sleep. Rising from her prayers, she headed for a small basket in the corner of the room and opened it, revealing some stale bread. Reaching in, she pulled it out and took a small bite, before returning it. She had been spending most of her time praying and judging herself. Re-living all of her sins, she had trouble getting them out of her head, but prayed until they disappeared. She pictured herself with power and liked what she saw, a benevolent warrior who smites evil. She smiled, yawned deeply and stretched as she stood up, bonking her head on the ceiling. “Ow!” She rubbed her head as she headed towards the small door, opening it and stepping out into the light of Elwynn Woods.

Arriving to a small river, she knelt down beside it and cupped her hands, bringing the water to wash her face. She took a deep breath and looked around the woods. It was a beautiful day. There was no doubt about that. The sun was shining down from the canopies. Squirrels, rabbits and groundhogs, trotted happily across the verdant grass and around the healthy trees. She smiled peacefully. ‘I wish the world could always be so peaceful… So full of light… So beautiful.’ Archilia knelt by the river and shut her eyes, beginning a prayer, as she has been doing for the past few weeks. As she prays, her body emanates an aura of Light, which slowly disappears as she reaches the end of her prayer. She finishes with a quote from her idol, Uther the Lightbringer. “No one feels he deserves it... its grace, pure and simple... but-.”

“The Light loves us anyway.” The man smiled warmly. “Uther the Lightbringer. An interesting end to your prayer, young one.” A voice called, almost echoing. Archilia opens her eyes and turns. She quirks a brow and stands to face the armoured man. The sun seemed to shine off both his armour and face, which was partially covered by a large plate mouth guard. His armour was golden and seemed to emanate with Light, or maybe it was just the sun shining off of him. But she knew what he was. She could feel the Light and believed that maybe it wasn’t the sun.
“Indeed. I personalize my prayers, so their meaning is that much stronger.” She nods sagely.

“I see. Now, what is a young lady such as yourself doing out in the middle of the woods?” He crosses his arms, blue eyes staring down at Archilia. She simply smiles at him.

“I think you know. Why else would you be here?” He smirks, his eyes glow for a moment, before returning to normal.

“Indeed. I felt a strong connection to the Light and decided I would investigate. Tell me your story.” Archilia begins to let the templar know her doings. Beginning with her resignation from the Church, her donations and her days spent praying. Throughout the story, the man stays silent, unmoving, like a marble statue. He nods approvingly when she finishes. “I see. Not very many people are capable of doing what you have done. To say the least, you have started well. What is your name?”

“I am Archilia Lightheart, sir.” She bows.

“Archilia Lightheart? A paladin for the Church of the Holy Light, eh?” She nods.

“I thought you would only come in a few more days. I mean, it’s only been a three weeks and I figured it would be a while until you came to ge-.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just because I am here, does not mean anything.” His smile disappears and he stares at her, eyes glowing once again. “Not many could do what you have just done, but I am not impressed that easily.” Archilia quirks a brow.

“Alright, then tell me, what must I do?” The glowing eyes, burn straight through into Archilia’s soul, filling her with anxiety. The templar smiles.

“I hope you like hiking.”

Tall As A Mountain...


Archilia was not pleased. Not one bit. She was cold, hungry, tired and, now, angry. She looked up the side of the mountain and grumbled angrily to herself about the height, shivering all throughout. Sighing, she rubbed her hands on her shoulders as she exhaled, watching her breath rise and disappear. The grey gazed down at her as she knelt down on the snow and shut her eyes, reciting a prayer. Nothing happened. No glow. No blessings of any kind. She rose, content with her prayer, but still her hunger and energy remained low. With one final deep breath, she reached up the side of the mountain and pulled herself up, beginning another climb.

‘Alterac Mountain.’ The templar said, arms still crossed. Archilia quirked a brow and tilted her head questioningly.

‘You want me to climb Alterac Mountain?’ He simply nodded, glowing blue eyes staring into her light blue ones.

‘What supplies may I bring?’ The templar smiled for a moment, absent-mindedly scratching his grey beard.

‘You are to bring the clothes upon your back.’ Archilia simply stared at the templar.

‘That’s it? But the Alterac Mountains are almost as cold as Nor-‘

‘Northrend. I know. You are permitted your clothing. There will be no use for any breaks; you will find that it will be next to useless. No food, but you may take the snow to quench yourself. You are also not to bring any weapons, nor bless yourself with the Light.’ Archilia thinks for a moment before nodding. He smiles. ‘Good. Once reaching the top you will find a Church, abandoned since the Second War. You will go inside and pray.” Archilia licked her lips.

‘How long?’ The templar smiled one more time.

‘If you quit, you will not progress with me and your connection to the Light will surely falter. If you are deemed unworthy, you will die. If you are worthy, I will know.’ Archilia thought for a moment. She was nervous. Climbing to the top of a mountain is hard, but praying in a Church for a couple of days… It seemed difficult to the blonde paladin. She nods.

‘Fine. How long do I have to prepare?’

‘Prepare? We are leaving now. I will escort you to the base of the mountain, but that is where my assistance comes to an end.’ He turns and begins to walk, Light seemingly being emitted from his body. She trusted this man and knew he would not lie. He was a force of good. With a sigh, she walks after him, keeping a good distance away. ‘We have a long walk ahead of us. I hope you don’t need much sleep.’

It took a few days to reach the mountains, they were picked up by a few caravans, but during this whole time, Archilia never found out the templar’ name. She continued to climb, breathing heavily and grunting as she pulled herself higher each time. Looking for something to blame for her unhappiness, she immediately blames demons, undead and the Horde. She begins to curse them angrily as she climbs. She grasped another edge, hopeful she pulled herself up, finally smiling. She had done it. She faced a church, wrecked by the time and weather. Wood had fallen off and stone was cracked in more places than one. The steeple seemed to be in perfect condition, which was very strange.

Taking a few steps towards the church, the wind began to pick up. Thinking not of it, she sped up her walk. Snow began to poor down from the sky, seemingly freezing the air. She ran and breaking through the doors of the church and slamming them shut. She placed her back against the door and breathing heavily. She had taken few breaks that didn’t seem to do anything. She wondered if the templar had done something, but shrugged it from her mind. He couldn’t do that. She took a deep breath and walked through the church, heading straight to the altar. She had a goal in mind and ignored the decrepit church. The altar was quaint and obviously old. Parts of it were on the floor, while the whole piece was largely cracked. Kneeling down, she began to pray.

She couldn’t tell how long she had been kneeling. Hours, days? It was all the same. She remained unmoving the entire time. After going through her repertoire of prayers, she began to recite them. In the back of her mind, she thought of all her past, her goals, her mistakes and her greatest achievements.

With her closed eyes, she saw light. As if someone had brought the sun to her face, she thought she should close her eyes further. Suddenly, she came to a realization. The Light is more than just an idea. It is force of good, planting itself in people like her so that may grow and one day become a force of justice against the dark forces who threaten all of Azeroth. She opened her eyes, seeing only a golden glow. Smiling, she knelt down again, closed her eyes and continued praying. It was close and she felt it.

The templar opened his glowing blue eyes and smiled. He uncrossed his arms and turned into the church, opening the doors lightly. He observed a small glow around Archilia and smiled. He took heavy steps towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. The Light around Archilia fades as she opens her eyes, turning to the templar, speaking very softly. “Thank you, sir. I now know why this was needed. But I must ask, what is your name?” The templar’ glowing blue eyes intensified as he smiled confidently.

“I am Bartan Valorcry. A holy templar of the Light.”

“I am Archilia Lightheart.” The man offers his hand to her.

“Come with me Archilia. We have much that needs to be done.” She takes his hand and stands. Archilia stumbles slightly and smiles.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate, I’m sorry.” He chuckles.

“You needn’t worry; I thought as much and came prepared.” He removes bread and milk from his satchel and brings them to a nearby table, placing both on it. He takes two chairs and places them on either side of the table. The two then took a seat and began to eat.

“Where are we going next, then?”

“Silver Refuge. An uninhabited island just off of the Hinterlands. We will be meeting an old comrade of mine who will help in your training.” Archilia simply nods and takes another bit out of the bread. She smiles and gives a small prayer to the Light, totally at peace.

The Seventh Loss


The templar knocked his shield into Archilia, sending her flying across the room. Slamming into the wall, she fell down onto her knees, breathing heavily. Barton flexed and the Light around him intensified and shone brightly, as he relaxed, it reverted back to its simple aura. He frowned, stepping towards her with heavy, plated greaves. He kicked her claymore away. He turned away and began to walk to the other end of the room. Archilia bared her teeth, running to grab the claymore and swing it down from over her head. Turning, Barton blocked the blade with his shield and sent a kick, sending the woman hurling back into the wall.

“Seems you talk the talk, but can’t walk the walk. The claymore is not a weapon for you. Return to the armory and choose another.” Archilia stood, breathing heavily; she picked up the claymore and let it drag against the wood floor as she walked out into the sunlight. The island was rather small and there were only two buildings. A small keep, which held the rooms, kitchen and armory and a small hut, meant for training. As she walked towards the armory, a meager looking high elf waved at her through the window. She simply nodded back to him, still panting; she entered the keep and headed straight for the armory.

Returning the claymore to its resting place, she gazed around the room, looking for a weapon. Swords, shields and pikes of all shapes and sizes lay all over the room. She sighed as she reached for a longsword. “Really, Archilia? Another sword?”

She turned to see the elf, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“It’s the only weapon I’m proficient with, Geal. I’m terrible with any other weapon. You saw during my training! Even Barton agrees!” She lifted the sword up, grabbed a shield and turned, heading past the elf.

“Listen, I think that the one you will bind yourself with, is the one you refuse to try.” Archilia simply ignored this and walked past the elf. He sighed and shook his head. “Here comes the… Sixth loss in two months…”

Barton simply sat, cross-legged. Light shone from him as he mumbled quietly to himself. Archilia knelt down and began to pray on the other end of the room. As the Light slowly faded to its simple aura, the templar rose, back still to Archilia. “I hope, for your sake, you can wield this better than the last.” He turns quickly, charging Archilia with a downwards slash. From her knelt position, she raises the shield, blocking the sword. As she rises, she pushes the sword up and attempts a stab. Stopped by the templar’ shield, he pushes her back. “You are too slow. Too weak. These weapons are not natural for you. You would be better off becoming a priest.” Archilia stomped angrily as she charged him. Beginning to keep up with him, Barton smirked. Light began to emit from him as a massive sword created from Light, burst from his chest. Archilia barely managed to throw herself to the side. Breathing heavily, she watched the Light blade fly from his chest into the wall across the room, shining brightly before disappearing.

“What was THAT!?” Barton simply frowned.

“You must be ready for anything. The enemies we face have terrifying powers that can do virtually anything. You must learn that the Light can bless you with such power. Until you can defeat me, you will never be able to survive and thus your time here is being wasted.” He sighs. “And so far, it seems mine is as well…”

“What do you mean?” She stood, letting the weapons slide to the floor.

“I mean, you are given one more chance. I will not tolerate an eighth loss. You have one week to practice. I will be in here at the end of the week. Do not disappoint me.” He turned and sat down, Light emanating from him.

Archilia was shocked, stunned and in awe. She had witnessed the great powers of a templar first hand, but never realized she would have to best him. Not only does his superior Light-imbued strength give her a disadvantage, but that ability, to craft the Light into what he wishes, is even more dangerous. Not only that, she had a week to be able to become strong enough to beat him. She grabbed her sword and shield and headed outside, Geal waiting.

“So?” Archilia shook her head, as she began to tear.

“I just can’t do it. He’s too strong, too fast. He has powers that I never dreamed of. How am I supposed to beat that?” Geal opened his arms and let her fall in, hugging her.

“I believe in you. If I know Barton and I do, he would never have brought you here if he didn’t think you had it in you.” She looked up at him, still tearing.

“Then, what should I do?” The elf grinned and let her go. Motioning her to follow, they ran to the armory and deposed of her sword and shield. Reaching in, he grabbed two polearms. Sending one to Archilia, they went outside. Facing each other, weapons at the ready he smiled at her and winked.

“You should best me.”