“Legs!” Came the stout Dwarven yell as the fire haired lass barreled into the target in front of her. The line of Dwarven Shieldmaidens charged forward alongside her. The line orc sized dummy’s were shoved back solidly. “Attack!” Each shield dropped in unison, and a flurry of axes and sword and maces came flying out from behind before the shields snapped back up with loud clangs. A metallic thud from each foot hitting the ground was heard as they took position. Noise came from the other side of the dummies, another line of Shieldmaidens lacking their shields, giving out a yell. “PUSH!” Came the call, and the lass hunkered down with the rest of her sisters, holding the line as the push dug their heels in.
Riathan sat on a hill nearby, watching with admiration. He remembered at one point being part of a unit that organized. Not full memories, not yet. But snippits of the fire of battle. Encouraging yells to hold the line, the smell of steel and oil, sharpened blades and men and women preparing for battle. The thrum of the Light pounding in his chest and exploding through his hands and along his sword. It was a few moments before Riathan realized that he wasn’t paying attention to the line anymore, and nearly jumped out of his feet, and nearly loosed Talon from it’s sheath on his back. Gyllia stood aback, a bit surprised but not too shaken. She’d known him long enough to be careful when he looked kind of zoned out. “Oi Lad! Jus’ me!” She chuckled as she brushed her hands on the leather tunic that hung down from her waist. Her undershirt was stained with sweat, revealing the chiseled, shaped form of the dwarven shieldmaiden. Scars littered her shoulders and arms, mixing in with her many freckles.
Giving a sigh, the Templar took his seat again, shaking his head. “Sorry Gylli, I was away again. It’s getting better, now that I found the Templars.” He gave a grin to her at that. The Dwarven woman’s expression changed quickly, excitement lighting up her face as she rushed forward and gave the man a huge hug. “Ye found em?! Good on ya lad!” She thumbed her nose as she backed away, chuckling. “I told you they wouldn’t be hard to find. Group like that can’t be out at battles all the time.” She leaned on her axe, the long haft reaching her chest. “So it’s helping?” She brushed a twist braid out of her face before looking him up and down. He was less shakey, and his gaze wasn’t as cloudy. At least not all of the time. The human paladin nodded, leaning back on the box he’d found to sit on. “More is coming back, still bits and pieces, but more.” He looked back at her again. “So I came back to thank you, for all your help when you found me, and after. You could have left me where I was. You had no reason to trust me, or even care. But you and your clan did.” Gyllia shook her head and threw up her hands. “Ach, lad. You’d think I brought you back to life. I just gave you food and a place to sleep one off.” She smiled though, glad for the gesture. “An’ it’s no problem. Ye paid her debt many times over afore you even left.” She sat down beside him, feet kicked up crosswise on the edge of a tree stump. “So what’s next? Join the good fight for Azeroth with them?”
Riathan nodded. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to stay, but I will.” He looked down at his hands, noticed a slight shimmer, and focused hard, making them stop. A little light wisp left his hands as he let go. He was finding it easier to channel the light again, not as much pain when he did so. “I think it’ll help bring back more memories, and probably make me feel better regardless. Doing something worthwhile again.”
Gyllia chuckled as she reached up, fluffing at his long shoulder length hair. “Going to tame the mane at any point, Lion-man?” Riathan chuckled, reaching up and tying it back. “Maybe, not touching the beard though.”
The dwarven shieldmaiden, Gyllia Firemane, laid back and laughed. “You’re telling a dwarven lass you’re not touching the beard an’ expectin’ her to be surprised.”
Riathan laughed along with her and leaned back, enjoying the feeling of belonging again.
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