The plodding, slow pace of their mounts was mind-numbingly boring. In the boredom, Beckyann's mind wandered, and she began to daydream....
They rode like the wind, not on the back of undead monstrosities, but on noble and powerful, purebred warhorses. The horses wore barding, the silver armor and blue cloth bright in the sunlight. She sat straight upon her mount, her body alive and fit and clad in sparkling silver plate armor as she gently guided her steed down the path. Her eyes glowed not with the foul touch of Scourge magic, but with the holy light of one who believes, the righteousness of her cause unquestioned.
Behind her rode the rest of her men, paladins all as she was, the boldest and bravest heroes of the land. Their mounts ate up the distance, flying through the forests of Elwynn and passing beneath the mighty gates of Stormwind, pennants flying above them as Beckyann's golden hair streamed out behind her, her blue cape flapping in the wind of her passage. A shadow crossed over them as they rode, and several of the heroes with her pointed, shouting as they charged ahead.
She looked up to see the terrible black wings unfurled above them, the mighty dragon roaring as it disgorged fire down upon their charge. Flames crackled around them, buildings exploding from the fiery fury of its breath, and yet they rode on, untouched, their righteous cause and holy blessings making them invincible to evil.
Ahead Stormwind's keep loomed large, and the dragon withdrew towards it, knowing it could never stop such mighty heroes. With a gesture Beckyann broke her squad up into groups, many of the knights dismounting as they ran towards the burning homes around them to save and care for the innocents that the dragon had harmed. She snapped her reins, her warhorse eagerly breaking into a full gallop as she crossed the cobblestones and drawbridge to the keep itself. The dark opening loomed large, larger than it should perhaps but it mattered little to her, for what darkness could stop a holy paladin of the Light?
She dismounted, patting her horse gently and proceeding ahead on foot, glinting silver blade in hand as she crossed the threshold. Within that darkness she heard the flapping of wings, and knew her prey was trapped. She turned and slammed the doors closed behind her, sealing herself within the keep with the black dragon, intent on saving the rest of the city from its rampage.
In the darkness, a tiny glint of light flared up as the dragon prepared to breath fire on her. She raised her golden shield, and the flames parted around it as she advanced resolutely towards her foe. The dragon roared, the fires of its breath illuminating the cavernous throne room as it plunged its head down to swallow her.
But what was it to her? She was a champion, and it a mere beast. She dodged the blow, dropping her shield with a clatter as its head passed by her. With her sword held in both hands, she brought it up and plunged the tip into the base of the dragon's skull, slaying the beast instantly. She planted a foot on its head, withdrawing her holy blade as the doors banged open.
Sunlight streamed in, illuminating her standing atop the ruins of her foe. HE paused in the doorway, looking at her in awe and admiration. He walked towards her, his footsteps echoing in the throne room, coming down to a knee before her.
"You have my thanks, mighty champion," said King Varian Wrynn. "Without you, my kingdom would be lost. If only we could all have such courage and righteous might."
She stepped down off of the dragon's corpse, standing before her king, bowing low, "No thanks are needed, Your Majesty. I live to serve my kingdom and my King."
He rose up before her, taking her hand in his, stepping closer, "As I live to serve my kingdom....and my newfound Queen."
She felt herself blushing, the blood rushing to her face as she opened her mouth to respond, "My King, I-"
"Sergeant?" the voice interrupted Beckyann's daydream. She blinked once, actually feeling a rush of embarrassment bubble up as she realized what it was she'd been thinking about. Her body attempted to blush, but in undeath her circulatory system didn't function properly and instead of the healthy red hue of a living woman, her face took on a bruised look for a moment as brackish black blood clotted in capillaries.
"What do you want, Private?" Beckyann growled. She turned to glare at him, seeing the rest of the Knights of the Ebon Blade she was leading on the patrol strung out in a line behind them.
"M-ma'am," the Knight replied hesitantly. "I think there might be an a-ambush ahead."
Beckyann began to growl something at the Knight and then held her tongue for a moment. She realized that if she was going to be a good Sergeant then she'd have to act the part. Recent events had shown her the difference between good and bad leadership. She calmed herself, trying to imitate Red's easier manner of speaking, her voice sweet, "Yes? What makes you think that, Private? Thank you for bringing this to my attention by the way."
The Knight paused, looking at her with wide as as if expecting a trap of some sort. Beckyann sighed, realizing that she might as well just act like herself; the men were more used to it. After a moment the Knight managed to regain his composure and he pointed, "Look at the road ahead, there and there. You see how there are two ruined wagons near the edge of the road? There are others in the distance where the orcs have taken a supply convoy, but note how the ones near the road have no scavenger birds over them?"
Beckyann turned and peered in the direction he was pointing, nodding. They had been traveling across the Barrens on patrol, and ahead was clearly an Alliance supply convoy that had been overtaken by Kor'kron raiders. Several wagons were destroyed, and dead pack beasts lay strewn here and there in the tall grasses. Two of the wagons were on either side of the road, disabled. "I see what you are pointing at, but I'm not sure I follow why you think this is an ambush, Private."
The Knight pointed, his voice sounding concerned, "Well look there, Ma'am. There are drag marks on the ground near those disabled wagons, as if they'd been placed there. And there should be dead pack beasts near them, where scavenger birds would be feeding. Also I thought I spotted something moving near the front of one of the wagons."
Beckyann squinted again, her baleful glowing eyes missing few details of the road ahead. She could see nothing out of the ordinary given the constant conflict that had been going on for weeks across the plains. The debris of battle could be found everywhere after all. She shook her head, "I don't think so, Private. You likely are just seeing flies or other insects on a corpse. I'm quite sure that it's fine. I think I'm pretty well versed in being ambushed at this point. We will proceed at our current pace."
"Yes, Ma'am," the Knight replied, sounding sullen. Beckyann smiled, snapping the reins and making her deathcharger hiss in anger at her. She was in control of the situation, and she would let her previous experiences guide her. What could go wrong?
**************************
Five hours later, several death gates opened in Acherus, disgorging a number of battered, gore-covered Knights who looked like they had seen better days. Beckyann lead them, her hair messy and one shoulder pauldron dented from a lucky ax-blow, a broken arrow shaft protruding from her hip. She glared at the Initiates that were on guard duty as they smirked at her before stumbling away from the death gate and dismissing her patrol.
One day she would learn how to be the champion she'd dreamed of. Or at the very least, recognize the signs of an ambush.
Maybe.
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