Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Unanswered Questions

Sunlight streamed in through the skylights of the cathedral, and a breeze blew through the magnificent hall, raising a cloud of fine dust.Large white candles are lined up neatly in front of the church's huge stained windows, in front of which is a proud portrait of a regal warrior.Thousands of shards of stained glass adorn his broad face and aristocratic air, surrounded by golden radiance, holding a huge warhammer in one hand and a leather-bound book in the other.The title of the book clearly reads "We Defend Honor with Blood (Esarus thar no'Darador)". Looking at this colorful portrait, Tirion Fordring couldn't help but be fascinated.Tirion knelt in front of the ornately carved pulpit, bowing humbly and praying.On his left, a row of people dressed in white robes stood solemnly.They are missionaries from Northshire - Cleric.These devout clerics are here to provide Tirion with the necessary support and spiritual comfort.To his right, another group of men in heavy armor, the knights of the Silver Hand - paladins.These paladins are the guardians of Lordaeron and the entire alliance.They too had come to support Tirion—the new recipient of this sacred title.In front of him is the huge altar under the stained glass windows.The sun shines on the altar, and another person in a long robe with a thick book on his lap is sitting in the center of the altar, meditating.Tirion vaguely remembered the others talking anxiously as they followed him into the cathedral, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

The robed man on the altar raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet, Tirion held his breath, the moment he had been waiting for was coming.The man in the robe slowly got up and walked towards Tirion who was kneeling in front of the altar.The Archbishop (Archbishop) stopped in front of the podium, opened the book in his hand, and read like a bell: "We gather here in the name of the Light to give strength to our brother. The light of the light, make him reborn, the power of the light, make him persuade the people, the power of the light, let him conquer the darkness, the light of the light Wisdom, so that it can lead its fellow men to heaven forever." After reading the prayer, the archbishop closed the book and walked to Tirion's left, Tirion felt a burst of excitement.He took a deep breath, trying to focus on this holy moment.

"Preachers of Northshire, if you trust him, bless him," said the archbishop in holy tones.A man in a white robe stood out with a dark blue shawl trimmed in his hand.The missionary walked to the front of the pulpit, devoutly put the shawl around Tirion's neck, dipped his thumb in a small bottle of holy oil, and wiped it between Tirion's eyebrows. "Light save your fellow men," the missionary murmured, bowing and stepping back. The archbishop turned to the crowd on the right and said loudly again: "Knights of the Silver Hand, if you trust him, bless him."

Two men in full armor came out proudly and stood in front of the podium.One of them holds a huge two-handed war hammer.The silver head of the hammer was engraved with hymns, and the handle of the hammer was carefully wrapped in blue leather.Tirion marveled at the unusual craftsmanship and refinement of the weapon.The knight put the hammer in front of the kneeling Tirion, bowed his head and walked back.A second knight followed, holding a pair of shoulder armor, and looked at Tirion.He is, one of Tirion's closest friends.The knight's face was filled with pride and excitement, and Tirion smiled at him heartily.Saida put the silver shoulder armor on Tirion's shoulders and said solemnly, "May the power of the Holy Light help you to sweep away all enemies.

After he finished speaking, Saida adjusted the silver armor so that the blue holy belts below them could float out.Then he stepped back and turned back to the knights present.Tirion's heart beat against his chest.He was extremely happy, and even a little ecstatic.The High Bishop strode forward again and laid his hand on Tirion's head. "Stand up and let everyone know you again," he said.Tirion stood up, feeling that he had been given such an honor, he couldn't calm down.The archbishop looked straight at Tirion, and then began to read aloud "You, Tirion Fordring, swear to uphold the honor and the laws of the Silver Hand?"

"I swear it," Tirion replied earnestly. "Have you sworn to act by the grace of the Light and to impart its wisdom to your subordinates?" "I swear." "Did you swear to fight back the evil you encountered wherever you were, and to protect the weak and innocent with your own life?" Tirion swallowed hard, then nodded and said, "By my blood and my glory, I swear." He breathed out the words softly, completely overwhelmed by emotion. The archbishop closed the book and walked back towards the center of the altar. Turning to the congregation, the archbishop said, "Brothers - you who have gathered here today and witnessed - raise your hands and let the light make this man glorious." Every priest and knight raised their right hand , pointing directly at Tirion.To Tirion's surprise, their hands began to glow with a soft golden glow.He felt that he was too excited at this moment, and his eyes made a joke with himself.As he opened his eyes wide and wondered what was going on, the sunlight poured down from above and began to move slowly across the ground.As if instructed by the participants, the light stopped when it reached Tirion.Eyes a little blurred by the intense radiance, Tirion felt his body warmed and charged with divine power.Every nerve of his own was lit with divine fire.He could feel life-giving forces flowing through his limbs, an energy that could heal any wound and remove any disease.He contemplated how powerful this power could be, capable of burning even the souls of foreign, cursed shadow creatures.Except himself, he shuddered subconsciously.

Excited with hope and joy, Tirion knelt down and grabbed the mighty hammer - the symbol of his divine calling and identity.Tears of joy streamed down his face, and he looked up to the archbishop, who was smiling warmly at him in reply. "Rise up, Tirion Fordring—Paladin, Defender of Lordaeron. Welcome to the Silver Hand." The whole scene erupted in cheers.The sound of various trumpets playing came from the elevated balcony, and the loud cheers echoed in the vast space. Tirion woke up with a start.The sound of children's merriment and play carried through a nearby window.From outside he could hear the familiar cries of sales, which were done on the grounds of Castle Maddenhold.He was at home, in his own bed.Shaking his head, to wake up his vague consciousness, he wondered how long he had been asleep.His sheets were soaked with sweat and smelled like he hadn't showered in a week.His head seemed to be pounding hard, as if it was going to explode.Sighing deeply, he recalled that he had been dreaming just now.He tried to recall the details of the dream, but as his skull seemed to pound constantly, he could only grasp the vaguest moments of the vision: a man in a robe, a glowing hammer, a vicious orc.An evil orc?He surmised that he was dreaming of his mission as a paladin.But there were certainly no orcs in that joyful ceremony.Slowly more images flashed through his consciousness.He himself had a gladiatorial fight with the orc - and he lost.Nonsense, he thought absently.He mused, feeling that his dreams were only more imaginative as he got older.

Lifting his head from the sweat-soaked pillow, he tried to get up and get out of bed.A sharp pain shot through him, and he lay back, panting.He removed the blanket from his body, and he saw that his entire midsection was neatly bandaged.There were bruises and small cuts almost all over his aching body.He was surprised to find that his arm was also covered with medicine and bandaged.He frantically recalled what had happened to him.Is the gladiatorial fight with the orcs real?For some unusual reason, his memory became hazy and dull.He tried to get out of bed, but the pain made his expression distorted.Wrapping himself in his underwear robe, he walked to the living room of his home.

He found his young wife, Sitting quietly in a large plush chair, sewing, by an open window.Seeing him enter the house, Kalandra dropped the knitwear in her hand and ran up to meet him.She held him carefully and warmly without squeezing him tightly. "Thanks to the Light, you're awake," she said.Her youthful and frail features tinged with relief and concern.Her blue eyes looked straight at him, as they always did.In reply, he smiled and kissed her forehead lightly.He was amazed, perhaps for the ten thousandth time, by her beauty. "I was just wondering if you were going to sleep through middle age," she said.As he stroked her soft blond hair, her eyebrows arched as if asking a question.

"What are you trying to say? How long have I been asleep?" he asked. "Almost four days," she replied flatly.Tirion blinked in disbelief. "Four days," he murmured to himself.That would explain the hazy memory, he thought. "Calendra, what happened to me? Why have I been asleep for so long?" he asked.She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slightly. "We don't know exactly what happened to you," she replied. "You left to hunt in the morning, and you went for 4 hours. Because you basically don't come back late, I was worried if you were injured. I sent you to find you." Tirion smiled.Alton is the captain of the castle (Captain), perhaps his most loyal friend.He should have guessed that Alton would be looking for him.Kalandra continued, "Just as he was leaving the castle, he bumped into you on Mirada's back. He said you were unconscious when he found you, and that you were bound by your own bridle. on the saddle."

Tirion patted his aching head lightly. "To my saddle? That doesn't make sense at all," he said wearily. She put her cool hand on his forehead and said reassuringly: "Your ribs are broken and your arms have been cut open. We fear you have been attacked by a ferocious brown bear. Alton just killed you Bring it in and treat you." Tirion sat down heavily in her chair.Barthilas?Barthilas treated him?The young man had only just been consecrated as a paladin, and Tirion was surprised to hear how quickly his power had grown.That's a bit arrogant, but the pious Barthilas is already considered Tirion's second - and overall, heir to the Paladins.He taught the young paladin in their holy ways, and taught him the etiquette of state affairs.Although he was happy to see that the young man had been able to heal him, something made him reflect.Did the gladiatorial fight with the orc really happen? Kalandra knelt down and moved closer to him. "Basselas' treatment was stressful and exhausting for you. You yelled nonsense a lot while you were sleeping," she said. He looked at her suspiciously. "And then?" he asked. "Well," she said with a look of concern across her face, "you've been babbling about orcs, Tirion. You said there were orcs in Hearthglen." He slumped wearily into the back of the chair.The memory of that violent conflict came to him again.That gladiatorial fight happened for real.His eyes fell on her crystal blue eyes, and he nodded solemnly. "There was indeed an orc," he told her.Kalandra knelt down on her ankles, dumbstruck. "Light keep us," she whispered.Just then, the door slammed open and five-year-old Taylan jumped into the house. "Daddy! Daddy!" the boy yelled, running up to his parents.Kalandra straightened to her feet, and Tyran jumped into Tirion's lap.Tirion let out a low hum when the little boy hit his aching chest. "Tylan, how is my son?" he asked, wrapping his son completely in his arms.Tailan raised his head and shrugged his shoulders with a shy smile. "Have you treated your mother well?" Tai Lan nodded desperately. "He's always been quite attentive," Arden's gruff voice rumbled through the door. "But he's as rambunctious as his daddy was when he was a kid." Kalandra smiled warmly at the loyal guard as he entered the house. "I hope I didn't disturb you. I saw Tyran over there coming this way like an angry ogre (Ogre), and wanted to catch him before he disturbed you, Tirion .Looks like I shouldn't worry." With a low grunt, Tirion stood up with Tyran in his arms, and went up to greet his old friend.The two shook hands sincerely. "Calendra told me you stripped me back to the castle, and I owe you a big thank you. Geez, Alton, if I had a gold medal every time you helped me out of trouble..." "No need. I'm just bringing your horse back. If you want to thank someone, go to Barthilas. He's drained all of his strength trying to heal you. You look like you've been beaten like hell Take a break, brother. No way, it's good to see you back among the living. You really worried us for a while." "I know," Tirion said. "We have something to talk about, right now." Alton nodded, looking sideways at Tyran and Kalandra.Understanding the captain's subtle hint, Kalandra took Tyran from Tirion's arm and said, "Then I'll leave you two here. You have something to discuss. The little one needs to lie down and sleep too. ’ She kissed the child’s face.Tai Lan hummed unhappily, trying to break away from her mother's clenched hand.Kalandra smiled softly to herself. "Same as your father," she giggled.Both Tirion and Alden smiled as she left. "See you later, son," Tirion said, watching them out of the house.When they couldn't hear this side of the conversation, he turned to Alton, his face full of anxiety. "There's an orc, Alden. Chances are, he's still alive. As far as I know, he's the only one out there. Until we get to know more, I hope it's just the two of us, and you, of course, Those who were there when it was brought back knew it. I don't want this to cause panic throughout the province, in case it's just an isolated incident." Alton's strong jaw tightened visibly. "There may be something wrong with that, sir. Barthilas and I were there when you fell asleep. We both heard you read about the orc," he said.Alton continued talking, while Tirion looked bitter. "You and I know Barthilas. When he heard you say 'orc,' he flew into a rage, and started gathering a whole regiment to hunt across the countryside for that ferocious monster. I Really had to pin him down and let him calm down for a while." "I applaud the lad's passion, but his passion can cause problems," Tirion said dryly. "That's an inadequate statement of yours," Alton echoed, smiling.The two had long understood Barthilas's almost fanatical obsession with fighting orcs.Barthilas' parents were murdered by orcs during that war, leaving the traumatized child orphaned and devastated.Deciding to spend the rest of his life fighting the evil of the Orcs, Barthilas endured years of rigorous training and study.Tragically, however, this passionate young man was allowed to become a paladin just after the end of that war.For all his training and preparation, the fact that Barthilas had no chance to avenge his slaughtered parents tormented him.He also felt that there was only one way to earn the respect of his elders, and that was by fighting with blood on his hands, as they had done in the old days.He dreams of becoming a mighty hero, taking revenge on the creatures that took his family away from him. Though he sympathized with the young paladin, Tirion knew that such thinking could lead to disaster. "I doubt he will keep quiet about what happened to me. Especially after he healed my wounds. How many people know about it, Arden?" Tirion asked anxiously. "Rumours have been flying all over the castle for the last few days. I've heard everything from a raiding party of orcs, to a full-fledged army waiting to pounce on us. Guess what. People are freaking out thought the Horde would return. And, especially Barthilas, he was afraid that if the enemy came again as before he would not be able to repel them alone," Arden replied.Tirion patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Let's hope things don't turn out that way," Tirion said earnestly. "Call my advisors. We will discuss this further in Parliament." Alton saluted readily, then turned and left.Tirion cleared his throat. "Alton," he said softly, "one last thing..." Alton stopped and froze. "When you found me, did you see what I was like?" "Yes," Alton replied. "I couldn't have strapped myself to Mirada and found my way home in that situation." "Yes, sir. That's impossible." "And you didn't see anyone else there? No one who helped me brought my horse back here?" "No, sir. There was no one around. I even went back afterward to look for traces. Found nothing. Someone must have bound you to your horse. And on my life, I can't tell who," Arden finished .Tirion nodded for him to leave.Alone, Tirion mulled over which unnamed savior had done it.As far as he knew, the two people in the woods that morning had been himself and the mysterious old orc.In short, Tirion wondered if the orc had saved him.His past experience with the creature prompted him to rule out the idea.Those beastly creatures have no sense of honor.From what he'd seen of them, he was sure they would never show their way of mercy to another creature, least of all a loathsome foe. Candles flickered in the medium-sized council hall.In the middle of the hall stood a large oak table covered with a huge map showing the land of Hearthglen down to the smallest detail.Six men sat at a table, and they talked among themselves.Sitting at the table was Tirion, staring at an area on the map that showed a woodland surrounding the ruins of a tower.In deep thought, Tirion had no interest in the baseless claims of the advisors.He couldn't let that nagging question torment his mind—who had rescued him and brought his horse home?He vividly recalled the orc saluting him, allowing the creature to breathe during the battle.Perhaps the savage creature had a sense of honor after all, Tirion mused.No, there must be a mistake.Orcs are evil and savage.They don't know anything about humility or compassion, he reminded himself.However, his heart still told him that the orc had saved him. His thoughts were interrupted when the door whimpered open and a tall, lanky young man entered.With his silver armor shining, and his dark green cloak trailing behind him, Barthilas looked every bit like a sweeping paladin.Although he was nearly 30 years younger than Tirion, Barthilas kept his oath, and as a Knight of the Silver Hand, he did it as sacredly as his elder paladins.As usual, Barthilas walked erratically, merely saying hello to the few others in the room.Hasty and somewhat pompous, Barthilas rarely made the point of greeting anyone who wasn't a paladin blessed by the Light. When he entered, Tirion stood up and saluted the young man. "Greetings, Barthilas. I appreciate your healing. Without you, I might already be on my way to join the Light," Tirion said, rubbing his still-paining ribs.Although his wounds have been fully healed, his body still hurts to the touch.Barthilas shook his head disdainfully, and saluted Tirion. "That's nothing, sir. If the situation were reversed, I'd do what you would do to me," said Barthilas confidently. "I do wish I had faced the orc. If it had been me, its head would have graced the battlements of the castle by now." Tirion noticed several advisors exchanging surprised glances at each other.Under normal circumstances, the young paladin's passion bordered on insolence.Tirion smiled at the young man with the patience he was used to. "Of course," continued Barthilas, "that is not to say that you yourself cannot defeat the beast, sir." "Well, at least, I'm sure you've brought Union panic to this, Barthilas. For now, I still need any of you not to talk about it with anyone else. I don't want to put civilians to muddy our conversation until we have a better understanding of what we're dealing with," Tirion said. Barthilas could hardly speak. "With respect, sir, are you implying that we remain silent? Even when the enemy sneaks up to pass unhindered through our territory? We must wash all the woods at once! Every time we waste here Seconds will give the orcs enough time to—" Tirion cut him off. "You're taking it for granted that there's a lot of orcs out there, Barthilas. I've been there, and I haven't seen anything. I wouldn't have sounded the armed siren until I'd been sure. time. We have to stay calm and be vigilant." "Suspicion? An orc troop somehow sneaked into our territory without anyone noticing, and one of its members beat you to a pulp. You still have to stay calm? This is crazy!" For this young man The man's audacity gasped for several advisors, but Barthilas continued on, showing no sign of weakening his tone. "We should mobilize a search party right now!" Tirion clenched his fists and tried to keep his voice even and even.The advisors remained quiet during their heated exchange of ideas, but seemed irritated by Barthilas's rude shouting. "You have to watch how you talk to me, boy. I'm still the governor of the province, and as a paladin I'm your immediate boss. I've been this long, and we'll go as I see fit. Deal with the problem. You stand back and stay in the castle until I order you to do something else. Understood?" Tirion growled. Barthilas turned himself aside in anger. "I hope and pray to the Light that my lord is not so shaken by his recent defeat that he is afraid to do what he should do." "Enough, Barthilas! You have gone too far!" shouted a member of the council.Filled with anger, Tirion walked up to the young paladin, looking into his dark eyes. "You may leave my chamber now," he said to Barthilas. The young paladin held back his anger and stood firm.He visibly calmed down. "Of course, sir," he said in a strained voice. "I will be eagerly awaiting your order." Saying this, he saluted sharply with a snap, and left the room. "Yes, I'm sure you will," Tirion said gravely.When the tense atmosphere escaped from the room, it seemed that everyone breathed a sigh of relief.Tirion wiped his eyes wearily, then sat back. said a consultant. "Sir, he's hot-tempered, but kind-hearted. I assure you he didn't mean--" "I know what he is. I know what he's trying to say. Barthilas is always at the mercy of his emotions. It makes him better than the average paladin. He creates a disadvantage," Tirion said.He feels tired, like an old man. "Once he calms down, he'll come back. He always does." "But sir, what if he's right? What if there are more orcs out there waiting to attack us, and we just sit here and do nothing?" asked the advisor. Tirion's finger slid across the map and landed on a spot that indicated the broken tower. "If there's no case, we'll stand still, old man. I'll take care of it myself." They were about to argue the point further when he got up and headed for the exit, leaving the advisors staring at each other in bewilderment. "But there is an extremely small chance that he is right...May the Light help us all." Later that night, Tirion sat alone in the castle's spacious dining room.The food on his plate was cold, and he ate absently with his fork.He thought about the old orc again.Could it really be that orc who saved his life?He had to find out quickly.If Barthilas was right, everything he had tried to do would lead to total failure at any moment. Behind him he heard the soft shuffling of little feet.Looking around, he saw a sleepy Tailan coming out of the living room next to him. "Shouldn't you be in bed already, my lord?" he asked.The boy climbed into his lap and looked up at him in horror.Tirion smiled at his son, thinking how much the child resembled his mother.Brown and blond hair.big blue eyes.He must be a lovable and innocent boy, Tirion thought. "Will the greens come back again, Dad?" Tyran asked.Tirion nodded, stroking the child's hair back and forth. "Yes. But you needn't worry, son. You're safe in the castle." "Would you fight greens, Daddy?" the boy asked.Tirion's brow furrowed. "I don't know, son. I really don't know." -------------------------------------- Notes: