The Highlord of the Temple of the Almighty had a very severe expression on his face. He was a gentleman of advanced years and his thick white eyebrows where drawn down into a frown. Deep wrinkles where set into his forehead and his right hand was scratching thoughtfully at the white stubble that was starting to sprout on his chin. In his left hand he held Rosaline White’s field report. As he continued to read, his eyebrows were pulled down so low that they almost touched in the middle and he was frowning so extremely that Rose was worried his face would tear in half. She squirmed rather uncomfortably as she stared at him over his rather ominous and imposing mahogany desk. She was twirling a strand of her dirty blond hair which was rather practically cut short. Her dark blue eyes were darting around the room trying to find anything other than the Highlord to look at, but they always found their way back towards his stern face.
“Paladin White,” he said, rubbing his temples with his free hand, “What have you to say about this?”
“Well,” Rose mumbled, “All in all I would say that the mission was a-“
“Complete failure.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that, it was more of a-“
“Outrageous disaster.”
“You could look at it that way, but we did find the demon who-“
“Escaped.”
“That it did, but we did follow and-“
“Destroyed half the village in the process.”
“Yes, we did get it in the end but-“
“Not before ten civilians where injured.”
“Yes, that is true. But we got it and-“
“And the villagers demand that we pay quite a hefty sum of money to pay for damages done.”
Rose opened her mouth to explain, but after looking into his eyes she thought better of it and closed her mouth again.
“Paladin White,” he began, “Once again you appear to have outdone yourself. Your field reports seem to be getting worse as the days go by. I am starting to wonder whether it might cost us less to just leave the demons alone instead of sending you! You seem to be going from disaster to disaster! Damn it woman! Some people have taken to referring to you as the walking plague of the Almighty and that is hardly the image we want our paladins to have, is it?
Rose bit back a few tears, “No sir, it is not.”
“Exactly,” he replied, “Now, after much deliberation I have decided to take you off of field duty until you can prove that you are ready for it. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Rose replied.
“I will not revoke your title as Paladin,” he continued, “for the Almighty has chosen you to do his work and I will not second guess him. So I thoroughly advise that you return to your quarters and do some praying. I think that everyone will benefit from your blade being guided a bit truer.”
Rose nodded and stumbled out of the office, down several halls and into her bedchamber where she collapsed with a heavy sigh. She wanted nothing more than to be a good paladin but the truth was that she was the worst paladin this side of the Dark Side. She was a complete and utter laughing stock and the bearer of many titles better left unsaid. And to add to that, she was now off field duty which meant that she was little better than a Novice. She sighed despairingly. She would never hear the end of it and that was a fact. She sat up and looked at herself in the mirror. Why couldn’t she just be a good paladin? Why did she have to be awful at everything? Why does everything she does turn out to be a disaster?
“Because I’m the walking plague of the Almighty,” she answered her own questions bitterly before she flopped back down onto her bed.
She lay there for a minute before pushing herself up and moving to close the door. Before she did she caught a sliver of someone’s conversation.
“Did you hear?” came a female voice, “The walking plague’s been taken off field duty!”
“Really?” came another voice, “Well, it’s about time! You know I heard-“
Rose slammed the door shut.
“No one cares about what you heard,” she sniffed.
She started to take off her armour and placed it piece by piece back onto her armour rack. She sighed as she rubbed a blemish on her cobalt blue chest plate. She pulled on her robes and walked to the door. The Highlord was right; prayer was the best thing for now. She steeled herself, pulled up the hood of her robes and hastily made her way to the chapel. She wasn’t able to miss all the nasty looks and smug, knowing grins, but she had dodged the majority of them and was once again in the solitude of her own company. She knelt down before the alter in the chapel.
“Great and gracious Almighty,” she prayed, “I pray for you to give me the strength that I lack. That you guide my will to be as yours. To see beyond my own needs and failings. To guide my sword to be true to your will. I pray for you to guide me through my time of trial so that I may be forever you dutiful servant. I pray that you keep my armour strong so I may protect those who need protecting. I pray that you aid me to be better than I am. I pray for the souls of those who are damned and I pray that we may all live safely within the power of your ever gracious love. I pray you that protect us from that which may harm us so that we may protect others from that which may harm them. I serve and obey. Amen.”
Rose stood up and smiled. She always felt refreshed after prayer and she felt as if she could face the world again. She strode confidently out of the chapel and made her way to her room. Where, much to her dismay, she found her nemesis Maverick waiting with a smug grin on his face. She pushed him out of her room before he could say a word and slammed the door in his face.
“Must suck to be you!” he called through the door.
She waited until she was sure that he was gone before she collapsed face first onto her bed.
“It does actually,” she mumbled in reply.
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