From Darkness comes Light

My past? I do not like to remember such things, but alas, it is our pasts that define us, our pasts that shape the people we have become and the futures we live. I do not like to dwell on this story, this is a different me, me before I found the light, but we cannot forget our pasts.

I was born the son of a simple family; unlike some of my brothers I do not have any semblance of blue blood, I started at the bottom. My family worked as miners and smiths, traveling the trade routes surrounding Ironforge and Stormwind. I grew up with this partly nomadic lifestyle, spending much of the summer on road; I became my father’s apprentice and he taught me the skills in mining and smithing I still use today.

As you can imagine, a simple life of a miner does not breed Paladins such as I. I would have been happy to live out my existence making a little gold from my professions, taken myself a wife, and perhaps even raised my own apprentice like my father did, and as was the tradition in my family for generations. It seems however the fates had other plans for me.

I remember it all, exactly as it happened, after all it is what drives me now. My family we’re making the trip from Ironforge to sell our wares around Goldshire. Our wagons were ambushed by a group of the bastard Horde. My father and I tried to fight them off, but alas I was but a boy and my father although strong as an ox was but one man. I watched my father, my mother and my sisters killed, along with the workers who had attempted to defend themselves against the Horde attack. The handful of us they spared we’re taken and put to work for the Horde.

We were miners, and the Horde put us to work as such. We were forced to work in horribly dangerous mines the horde wouldn’t risk their own men on. Gradually I watched the ten or so of us that survived dwindle in number as the harsh taskmasters pushed us harder and harder. I had resigned myself to die there, toiling for the Horde, hope had left me. Again however, apparently the fates weren’t happy with my lot. The few of us that still drew breath were taken south to mine a large deposit of Iron freshly found by the camp scouts. However the weather set in on our trek through the mountains and we were forced to make camp. We were left without food or warmth while our Taskmasters feasted around their fire. We had nothing to lose anymore. I had a simple choice die like a dog in the cold or act. I chose to act. As we were such a small troop our guards were few, I led the remainder of my families staff in a brawl with the guards. It was brutal fighting; miners armed with nothing but shovel and pick against the fully armed guards. We made a good account for ourselves and broke for freedom, heading for Stormwind. Fate had given freedom to the few of us that escaped, but fate is not without its irony and all but one of my companions died during the night.

In the morning two guards found us, and we were forced to fight again. My companion was felled, and I was left standing against the two guards. I am not entirely sure what happened next, I remember a light and little else, the light was somehow calming and warm, I remember welcoming it – a happy respite from the pain and cold.

Perhaps my mind has blocked the savagery of it, or perhaps it was the fates intervening again, they seem to enjoy having their fun with me. Either way, the details are not important. I stood above the broken bodies of the guards, alone in the world my entire family slaughtered or killed slowly in the horde mines. I slept, huddled in the furs I’d taken from the guards bodies. Morning came and I was roused by the light, Looking out from the cave were I had spent the night I could see the glittering towers of Stormwind, with no were else to go I headed there.

Having no one to call on, or coin to buy accommodation I stumbled disorientated around the city, my last remnants of strength doing little more than keeping me putting one foot in front of the other. I found myself before the Cathedral of Light, starving, wrapped in the furs of my slaughtered captors and covered in their blood I made my way inside and fell to my knees before the Alter. I remember the light again; the same light I felt as I made my last stand against the guards that had cornered me. I had fallen before a group of Paladins. I was given food and my wounds were treated, I recounted my tale to these warriors of the Light and was offered a place with them if I was willing to fight. These of course were the Paladins I now call my Brothers and Sisters.

I was ready. I was consumed by hatred for the Horde for the slaughter of my family and the loss of my life. I died that day in the Cathedral and was reborn a Paladin, of the Order of Illumination. Initially my hatred consumed me; I wanted nothing more than to smite the Horde and claim vengeance for the wrong doings wrought on my clan, I was a berserker. Gradually under guidance from my brothers and sisters I have tempered my fury, I forged it into a blade rather than the blunt weapon it was, I have followed the path of the Paladin and learnt its Holy ways and talents and I am stronger still for it.

There, that is my story. My struggle and loss that brought me here, from the Darkness of my simple life and the toil that followed it to the Light to the Warrior you see before you. This is me as I am now. Tokken, Hammer of Uther.