A new beginning.

"Go to Northrend and feel the cold stare of the scourge! Only then can I believe you are true to the Light!"
..."What a feckin' cunt..." I muttered to myself as I shivered, coming up to the harbour in Valiance Keep. Usually I keep my thoughts to myself, but that loon Clay pushed the limit. Not that I was afraid, nay an Arathorian is never afraid. I simply felt I had little left to prove, and that I needn't bother prove anything to a youngling from Lordaeron. Alas joining the Chapter had meant one thing, I had a bunch more people allowed to poke me with sticks and order me to jump at their will, I'll be fecked if I ask "'Ow high?". In a way I was happy that I wasn't doomed to a life hovering outside the Cathedral like a bad smell, atleast out here I could help, I could hone my skills and continue along the path of the Light. Still didn't make me feel any better about the cold.

"All off, we 'ave arrived at Valiance Keep! Sign up te 'elp at the front desk. Keep yerr wits about ye lads!" yelled the captain of the ship. Sighing, I truddled off the ship stepping on the frozen wastelands for the first time sent a shiver down my spine, looking up to see the chaos. Blacksmiths constantly hammering, cooks constantly cooking, builders constantly building, soldiers constantly training and medics, medics constantly aiding the ill. "Roll up! Roll up! Whuts yer profession!" yelled out the conscripter. "I'm...a blacksmith sir", mumbled an old man. Grizzled he was, still wet with piss to the britches about being up here. "Right ye be over there then" pointed the conscripter, "Yer start right away!". "Yes...sir" was all that remained as the man past his prime went about his prison sentence.

Then oddly enough, one familiar man from the journey over here attempted to push past the rest. Did he have a death wish? An ogre like human stumbled forward, holding a massive warhammer with one hand, "Oi move aside! Yer a petty tailor let me get conscripted first! Atleast I can actually help with the fighting!" "What a dick", I thought to myself as the bully pushed his way to the front, nearly toppling a old female tailor over with not a word of apology. "Oi! Apologise to her" spoke up a man, with no defining characteristics, apart from stupid.

"Fer what?, being in my way?", "No, for being a twat! Your no better than the rest of us!", Nygarth watched the argument unfold, cringing at the obvious outcome. "Aha! I am ten of ye! Ye little worthless insects! The scourge will cut through you like a hot knife through butter! I 'ave shitted stronger things than you all!". Ach, now everyone spoke up...Yelling here and screaming there. Seems like the scourge isn't the only thing we was fighting up here. A fist was thrown and the hammer was unleashed, aimed with remarkable accuracy at the dumb arse that managed to grow enough balls to fight him. "Ugh", he was hit. Dead on the floor with a crushed skull. Now the screams were let out. "YOU MONSTER! WE'RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT THE LIGHT DAMNED SCOURGE NOT EACHOTHER!" yelled one particularly peeved lass. "Ah shut up, he 'ad it coming te him!", backchatted the brute. This is when I snapped.

No weapon, just a armoured uppercut to the jaw. Thats all it took. Took him flying, nearly knocked over some more people. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall" I chuckled as I was ushered to the front of the queue whilst the guards cleaned up the mess. "Ye! Yer a hero! We need hero's!" spitted out the conscripter now blue in the face. "Ach, I'm nay hero...Just an Arathorian tha' dun't take shit from a fat brute". At these words, claps were heard from the back as the rest of the queue cheered. "Still yer more a hero than anyone I 'ave conscripted in the last week!, Whats yer name lad?!"

"Nygarth Thorgint, Ex-Orin o' Arathor. Currently a Whitecloak of the Chapter o' te Holy Anethion. Here on te orders o' Clay Farglade." I replied with an added salute. "An' yer profession?" asked an impressed conscripter. "Previously a medic, currently infantry". "So yer a paladin?" "Aye, pretty much". "Grand! Te the front line with ye then! If yer don't die within a week o' taking orders from yer new captain then yer be sent northward. Understand?" "Aye" I replied. "Grand! Your armour is with the Smithies! Tha' iron is it?", "Aye", "Aye, iron won't last long out here, yer be needing cobalt! Yer be told when yer can take yer breaks and eat, sleep an' shit. BUt fer now I just need yer to sign this. Just te say that your life isn't our responsibility and if ye die, ye die. Simply standard stuff". I nodded as I signed the paper with my simple signature. A pair of tits. Well I say tits, more like two dodgy circles with dots in the middle for nipples. Giving the conscripter a wink, I went to collect my armour, thinking to myself how on Azeroth I was going to be able to get changed here without freezing my dick off.

Why did I leave Strom in the feckin' first place!

Nice story. Even though my sentences is slightly wrong. But close enough.

I couldn't remember it word for word <.<

I will be adding to this, basically more small stories about how I got to Dragonblight and joined the Company.

Fail decision and all, but good luck! ;p Looking forward for the stories.

Nygarth amuses me. I'm guessing this may not be continued, since Garth's little stint with the Chapter didn't last long, but I'll be looking forward to anything else you end up writing!