Reflections in a Dwarf Inn

The tall young paladin paused in sharpening his greatsword and tried to repress a smile at the trio in the common room above. Although the inn’s stone walls were thick as any dwarf could wish for, the roaring trio’s song could still be heard in the small bedroom

“Ye ken theres good reasons for drinkin',
And another one enters me head:
If a fellow can't drink when he's livin'
How the hell can he drink when he's….
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
If a fellow can't drink when he's livin',
Howwwww the hell can he drink when he's dead?”

Chalker shook his head at the bellows of laughter from the common room at the well known dwarven drinking song.  The crowd had been more restrained when he’d arrived.  Not that the dwarves of Loch Modanwere hostile to the human knight, just quieter at a stranger in their midst. When he’d sat working the dense rock into a proper sharpening stone while waiting for his sausages to arrive and the innkeeper had recognized he was a blacksmith the crowd had relaxed and accepted him as one of their own.

Strange that being a Paladin of the alliance meant less to them than the fact that I’m a smith. Chalker thought. I should have put on the tabard when I stabled Aldeberan. Being a Stormcrow would have put them at ease quickly enough.

The knight looked fondly on the black tabard hanging near the roaring fireplace. I only wish I had earned my place in the oldest guild in Azeroth, that it wasn’t granted me as a right because of my predecessors.

The thought brought flashes of memory of those few with whom he shared Ruach, that divine spark which unites across race, gender and class. His earliest and least clear associations had been from Owen, a dwarf hunter. He wondered if Owen had ever sat in this very room cleaning his long gun or sharpening his flurry axes before setting out on a hunt with the bear…Lug.  The smell of wet bear came vividly to him as he stared into the fire.

His memories of Zee, the Dranei shaman, were the most distant and as he reached for some concrete recollection of that prior life he heard the distant crash and shouts as the inevitable after dinner bar fight broke out upstairs.

In a sudden flash he recalled a grinning Niffit as the dwarven rogue provoked a melee in some bar so he could pick pockets as he battled. The knight shook his head while grinning himself as he imagined some rogue upstairs creating the same distraction. Not Peekabout, he thought, but its something that Shardee might have done…

As he reached for a memory of the rogue woman whose life had most recently preceded his own, a recent unbidden memory leapt forward.

“It is perhaps, ironic that a servant of the light should be so predisposed to associate with rogues.” Paladin Lightwielder intoned, the disapproval in his voice obvious. His instructor, after reviewing Chalker’sreport was considering whether the paladin was worthy of level advancement and was clearly unhappy.  “But that is not the central issue. The problem, young Chalker, is that instead of facing the challenges of dungeons that would prepare you for the epic battles to come, instead of learning your role as part of a team of adventurers, you are content to race off on individual quests or help younger members of your guild overwhelm challenges that they should be learning to face unaided. Don’t you understand that as servant of the light more is expected of you?”

With a sigh Lightwielder continued, “While I cannot deny that you have earned advancement, I do wish you would consider more appropriate use of your talents.  Soon you will be powerful enough to face the challenges of Outland, and after that Northend. Don’t you wish to realize your full potential?”

Realizing his full potential- a theme repeated each time he sought advancement among the holy knights.  It wasn’t that he was against  reaching  his full potential. Glancing at the tabard, he thought about the leaders of the Stormcrows, the officers and elders. Could he ever rise to their ranks? It wasn’t simply a matter of experience- Shardee had attained level 80, been exalted with all Alliance factions, explored all of Azerothbecome a grand master in engineering, mining, fishing, and cooking and never considered entering the ranks of the elite in the guild. No, there was an aspect of the guild that he thought might always elude him- working together. The raids and battlefields which he’d avoided, the instances that Lightwielder criticized him for missing, these were parts of what made captains like Jaden, Gusdagangsta and Corksoaker. Officers and elders within the Stormcrow hierarchy all led or participated in the most heroic endeavors because that was how they viewed the world. They ENJOYED those challenges. With a sigh he realized that none of his previous lives, from Gygax the mage to Grimbly the warlock, from Finnegan the priest to Tristen the warrior, none of his previous incarnations had pursued those avenues.

Face it, you’re jus not cut out to be elite. He thought. Unable to generate any great regret or view this as a character flaw, Chalker found himself humming as he prepared for bed-

“I don't care ta go inta dungeons,
And epics I never will see
but if you've a damsel needs savin
you've only ta call upon...
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
But if you've a damsel needs savin,
Yooou've only ta call upon me”