Thread: The Adventures of a Pretty Paladin.

There once was a kingdom a long, long time ago in a land far, far away. All manner of cheerful halflings tilled the soil, work their small calloused hands into the loamy soil. It was red, infested with night crawlers, infested with the tears and blood of generations of Proudfoots and Quickpalms, red from all of that love and hate and backbreaking labor. Recently smoke had marked villages, communities, spread out over miles. The King, Lord Wideheel, had called in a few favors with a church that was looking to make a move on the area, one that he had held off with royal decree after royal decree. Pressure had mounted to such a large degree that he was forced to, given the sudden wave of monsters who were crushing his people, crushing his small, bountiful, strategically located kingdom, one that had only remained sovereign through years of carefully applied leverage. This time, though, the Church of Kossuth was able to make a move that would secure a foothold in the nation one needed to cross through for access to three separate continents. Overland trade was what had made the otherwise small Wideheel Kingdom so wealthy, its taxes fueling the lavish lifestyle of the four foot king, one who's spendthrift ways kept the roads unkempt and their joke of a military completely strapped for cash. The concession that had been drawn from the king for the Church's particular services had been taken with all the joy of pulling fingernails, all of it tied to the orc chieftain being removed from the kingdom. Wideheel was clearly skeptical about the Church's ability, all but shouting his contempt for their hubris from the rooftops... -A point had to be made. One of the Church's champions- Lady Eliselotte van Edefelt, a staunch paragon of the Order of the Radiant Heart, was promptly dispatched to deal with the problem...While the hallowed Annals of the Knighthood would record the desired result, they certainly wouldn't capture the truth of the matter... At first glance, Lady Eliselotte didn't look like a paladin. Even in the militant garb of the spartan order, the paladin's inherent loveliness shone through She was a pale-skinned, almost delicate beauty, her lissome form blessed with soft, sweet curves that drew admiring eyes, her golden hair cascading down her sleek back from a central part...There was an innocence to her, one quite at odds by the determination that flickered in those mesmerizing eyes... When one thinks of paladins, the usual image is that of armored, muscle-bound burly men doing some righteous smiting. One does not expect an absolutely lovely girl, the blue surplice of the Order molding oh-so-nicely to her lissome form, to be one of them. It's...a little surprising, when think about it, of Kossuth's choice of divine champions. -But she'd been ordered to come...And in her shining cuirass of full plate, fingers flexing in cunningly jointed gauntlets, she certainly cut a warlike, if deceptively slender, figure. Still, with her mirror-bright shield, and her enchanted sword, Luther, which glowed eternally with the heat of it's forging, there was little doubt of her identity...Or her power. It remained to be seen, though, how well she'd do when she set off... The forests of Murklewarren were quiet, today, the serenity broken only by the occasional ripple of birdsong, the rustle of leaves... In the clearing, lit by shafts of golden sunlight, a woman knelt in prayer. With a gentle rasp of stockings, Lady Elise's blue eyes squeezed shut, slim but strong fingers clasping worshipfully Blessed Lord, Elise whispered, her voice low, lilting, but earnest- ...In your name, I venture forth. Grant me your strength, so that I may do what is Right- Your Courage, to drive me where I might falter...And most of all, your Spirit, to guide my journey along Your hallowed path. So do I pray. The winds ruffled the enticingly brief hem of her skirt, her elegant features radiantly beautiful in the light Very much a living symbol of purity, in those peaceful moments... Elise's slim fingers brushed specks of leaf mold and bark from her legs, just beneath the leather belt that encircled her slim waist...Securing her silver cuirass- Polished to a mirror-bright sheen- firmly in place. Her feet tapped a slow tattoo on the leafy ground, knee-high boots laced all the way to the top, accentuating her toned legs, the heel idly splintering twigs as she stamped her feet, stretching as a low ripple of laughter purred from her throat...Those full, sweet lips curling in a smile. Ready or not, she murmured, in a taut whisper, a mischievous glint sparking in those limpid blue eyes -Here I come.