I still remember the first time I met the Lord Protector: more than one year ago, at the Gilded Rose Inn, where I had just hearthed back after an unsuccessful trip to Booty Bay. I had some sort of pet with me, whose an utterly annoying trait is the attraction towards shiny objects – a bit as it happens with magpies.
So, while the world around me was still taking shape after the spatial transfer – wooden walls and tables, and all the noises from the buzzing trade district - I noticed that, to my great embarrassment, my small intrusive companion had perched on the polished helmet of a knight in armour who was sitting, back towards me, on a chair of the inn, surrounded by a group of similarly plate-clad soldiers.
I stepped in to apologise: the knight looked up and glanced at me for a moment, making some quick comment on the pet, which I had by then prudently dismissed; then he went back reading some letters. In spite of the very brief exchange of words, I was rather impressed by the aura of charisma surrounding that person and even more so when I met him again days later and learnt his name: Thomas Kerengar from Lordaeron.
My sixth sense told me that I had just met one of the future leaders of the Stormwind Alliance forces; I think that many initiatives he promoted or contributed to afterwards – the measures taken towards the plague epidemic, the counterattack against Kel’thuzad’s invasion, the recent offensive towards Andorhal in the Western Plaguelands – definitely proved that I was not wrong.
Anyway, back to one year ago, I thought that it would be interesting to interview the leader of an organization, the Shield of Light, which had by then gained good notoriety in the capital.
I admit that I had to insist in order to convince him, and, as a little related anecdote, I will mention that when sir Kerengar first read the list of the topics I wanted to treat during the interview – especially the last bit about private life – he was not entirely pleased, to the point that in fact he tore off the parchment and threw it into the canals: a mild act of disrespect towards our streets’ cleanliness, this one, which however contributes to show that even the Lord Protector was human after all.
Eventually, the White Knight capitulated – and accepted being interviewed. The horse riding through the forests of Hillsbrad Foothills following him to the location chosen for the interview remains one of the most thrilling moments in my career and that T.A.P. issue itself was, to a certain extent, a bestseller, at least according to the number of comments and reactions I received.
I was pleased by most of them, and slightly puzzled by others – like the fact that, after my article, I heard irreverent yet imaginative individuals nickname sir Kerengar ‘Sir Borengar’ or ‘Mr Karunga’ – this last one evidently an undeserved comparison between the Lord Protector and the impressive, if slightly obtuse, leaders of the ape communities in Un’Goro.
What can I say? As my Father used to repeat, misunderstandings and ungratefulness are only few uneven tiles on great men’s road to glory.
It is a fact that Thomas Kerengar was loved by many and respected by most, and the strong emotional wave running through the Kingdom at the news of his tragic demise was in fact yet another sign of the consideration the people regarded this emblematic paladin with.
Unfortunately I could not attend the memorial held for him at the Cathedral. So, as an inconspicuous token of my esteem towards sir Kerengar’s public figure, I thought that I would add a brief funerary poem written in those days.
Down by the river of that eternal reign,
Limbo suspended in grey joyless dawn,
Will you be one among the trembling crowd,
Treading those banks in silence and in pain?
Not like with others, when you pass the Gate,
The winged statues and their ash-like gaze,
Drawn by the wind through hollow lips of stone,
Even their voice will mourn aloud your fate:
“Oh, how he lived! and how he shone!
But how soon the Light was gone.”*
L.K.D.
(* OOC: for those who wonder how comes that the last two verses sound better than the rest: they aren’t mine, but some lyrics from the musical ‘Evita’ by Tim Rice)
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An Interview with Thomas Kerengar
The night speaks many languages, and tonight it is the thundering sound of two horses galloping through the grassy paths of Alterac Mountains, and the restless murmur of the wind, which is accompanying, or maybe drawing like an eerie call, me and my guest while we move north.
I guess that to a traveller flying on a gryphon back under this bright night firmament, we would look like two small figures appearing and disappearing among the black shapes of pine trees, one leading the way and glinting under the moon like a metal splinter, the other following, barely noticeable in her dark attire.
Having spent plenty of time in Stormwind as of late, I have been impressed by the importance of the Cult of the Light in our capital, and the influence exerted by its followers, mainly priests and paladins, on the law abiding circles of the public opinion.
I have become then curious to see how this was perceived from an insider point of view and decided to interview a person able to represent the common, widespread and probably stereotyped idea of the ‘Paladin’ as a holy knight at the service of all those in need and peril. With such purpose in my mind, I contacted for this interview Sir Thomas Kerengar of Lordaeron, leader of the Shield of Light, a well known and respected order operating under the patronage of the Cathedral of Stormwind.
We have arrived to our chosen destination, the eastern shore of Lake Lordamere. This sombre lake is quite a sight at night, with its leaden waters unwillingly reflecting the rays from the moon at the zenith. But peering beyond the water I suddenly realize what background my guest really wanted for tonight’s meeting: the imposing, turreted profile of a city slowly emerging through the mists of the horizon. Sadly too similar to a huge desecrated cathedral, Lordaeron capital, now called Undercity by those usurping its halls, still stands as a symbol of what the Alliance lost in these lands.
After tying his horse’s bridles to a tree Sir Kerengar comes to sit in front of me. He has taken off his helmet, revealing a face with slightly angular traits that, for an instant, reminds me of the portraits I have seen of another somehow famous knight from Lordaeron, Arthas Menethil, in his younger and righteous years.
The resemblance, if any, ends here however. According to the chronicles, young Arthas was an extroverted, vehement and hot-blooded character, while, talking with sir Kerengar, one cannot help noticing the reserved attitude and detached politeness - bordering in fact on stiffness - of this Paladin of the Light. A light which, in this particular case, will probably dazzle you but will not warm much, like the sun shining crystalline in a glacial winter day.
Yet, after all, what sort of cheerfulness can be expected from a man who sees his land, Lordaeron, lying in the silent embrace of Sylvanas?
I start my interview, hoping to find in my guest at least an attentive and responsive interlocutor.
T.A.P.: “Thank you for coming tonight, Sir Kerengar. I often open my interviews with a curiosity, so please tell me, what is the symbol you display on your tabard? A key? A chalice? And the colours you wear, white, pale grey and gold, do they have some particular meaning?”
Kerengar: “It is a golden key, a symbol of spiritual power, and our white tabard represents purity and holiness. Also, how we look to the people is important, and a tidy white tabard gives them a more reassuring image than if it were, let’s say, darker. It is a small thing, but it conveys an impression of reliability.” My guest’s voice is the peculiar combination of a calm, pleasant tone and a strong northern accent.
T.A.P.: “In a few words, how would you describe the purpose of your Order? Do you have a motto to summarize it?”
Kerengar: “We do not have a motto or anything similar. The purpose of our order, however, is to reunite all the paladins willing to serve under the Archbishop. Everyday we see paladins without a cause roaming the land, and we offer them a place where they can serve the people and the Light together with other paladins and priests.”
T.A.P.: “I have heard, and have no reason to doubt, that you are pretty selective in the recruitment for your order. Can you tell us the requisites that an applicant should meet? And what sort of hierarchy they can expect to find once they are admitted?”
Kerengar fingers the hilt of his sword while listening to the question, his gaze fixed on the distant city.
“Yes,” he replies “not everyone has what it takes to become a paladin. An applicant stated ‘I can heal’ as a reason to join us, but lacked in almost every other aspect. Paladins and priests carry a heavy burden and we cannot afford weak links in our chain, as that could have terrible consequences. We seek people strong at heart, set on doing what is right and most of all, with a genuine care for the people more than anything else.”
In all his speech are the words ‘doing what is right’ that I find mostly interesting, pronounced as they appear with the nonchalance of someone not overly accustomed to internal dilemmas. But I don’t want to interrupt my guest, now explaining about the ranks in his order:
“The first step towards paladinhood is squirehood. Each squire serves under a paladin who acts as his or her mentor. They learn about our arms, philosophy and conduct. If their mentor deem them worthy, they are promoted to paladin status and fully accepted into our order. Not everyone makes it though, as their time as squires is a time of trial of both hand and heart.” I nod and continue.
T.A.P.: “On the hierarchy topic, who is the man you most rely on, in case you have to leave your leadership for a while? In other words, who is Sir Kerengar’s right arm?”
Kerengar: “My right arm is paladin Lotars, who is also the one who overlooks the training of the squires. He has proven himself many times and I trust him with my life.”
T.A.P.: “The name of The Shield of Light is quite renowned in Stormwind, and widely respected by many organizations of the calibre of the City Watch. However, it appears that your fame and commitment in hot, turbulent frontier places like Arathi Basin or Alterac Valley is not equally strong. You do not believe in the war against the Horde?”
Kerengar shrugs: “The Alliance has soldiers at the front, but seems to pay little attention to what is happening back home. We have men and women fighting on the frontiers as well but we focus on protecting those back home as they are more or less abandoned. Look what is happening in Westfall, Redridge and above all Duskwood… I respect the men and the women fighting on the battlefields but someone has to safeguard the people back home.”
T.A.P.: “Back to Stormwind related events, recently the city has witnessed the brutal murder of the much loved Sgt Eldal. You were the judge at the trial against the two scoundrels accused of the crime; eventually your verdict was the exile, although many people asked for the capital punishment. What can you comment on this fact?”
Kerengar replies with a serious look: “I was asked by the City Watch to judge this case and, following their rules, a death sentence was nothing I could give. Besides we still don’t know who murdered the sergeant, the testimonies could have been much better…”
T.A.P.: “Right to this point with my next question, Sir Kerengar. There were allegations about the City Watch prosecutors not having produced the necessary evidence to inflict a more severe condemn. Do you agree on this, or not?”
Kerengar: “I will not comment on the City Watch prosecutors. But several witnesses claimed that both the accused were present at the crime scene… just those two said they were somewhere else during the murder, yet nobody verified that…”
T.A.P.: “Now Sir Kerengar, you are talking like one of those gnome lawyers. Basically you think that if the Watch had produced better evidence you could have condemned those men to death?”
I expect a precise answer now, and punctual it arrives:
Kerengar: “No. I could not have sentenced a murderer to death according to chapter 1, paragraph n.6 of the Stormwind Laws – committing a murder can give you either four warnings or being outlawed.”
T.A.P.: “Passing to more abstract matters, I think I am right if I qualify you as a Follower of the Light. This doctrine is possibly one of the most widely generalised or misunderstood. Maybe you could explain to us the true essence of this Cult?”
Kerengar nods: “Yes, many talk about the Light or even frown upon it without even knowing what it is. Often people think that the Light is some kind of deity, while it is more a philosophy, a way of life if you will. We believe that everybody is connected to the universe, and by doing good and staying true to ourselves we can affect it, and make the world a better place. The three virtues of the Light are Respect, Tenacity and Compassion. We try to let these virtues guide our actions.
Should anyone be interested in knowing more about the Light, soon there will be sermons held at the Cathedral, under the initiative of a lady named Caty Daleson. With this we hope to spread the knowledge of a philosophy that many think is just for paladins or priests, but in fact is for everyone.”
T.A.P.: “This is mostly interesting and quite reassuring, from the point of view of a follower of the Light. But what about all those people who move in a more shaded, polychromatic universe, warlocks, for example?”
Kerengar: “While I do not approve of what warlocks do, it does not necessarily make them evil… only risky, much like a drunk gnome walking around with explosives. It is risky and people may get hurt because the warlocks think they are in control, when they are in fact not.” An opinion so common, this last one, that it could be written as a mocking reminder over the entrance of any warlock den.
T.A.P.: “If you remember, a famous and extravagant warlock, currently residing in Pyrewood, was put on trial for being a witch some time ago, and even faced the risk of being burnt at the stake. What would you do, if you had to witness a similar occurrence? Free the prisoner? Or maybe set fire yourself to that pyre?”
Kerengar: “I was not there so I cannot say, but I believe she was deemed innocent and set free. I did not and do not know her so I cannot say how I would have acted.” Well expressed as it may be, this reply sounds rather evasive from a man who claims to be a devout supporter of the ‘Compassion’ virtue.
Sir Kerengar must somehow feel the very same discrepancy since he adds hastily: “However how it was done sounds more like a lynch mob than a trial. We would never burn someone at the stake.” After this reassuring clarification I move on.
T.A.P.: “I have heard that you know pretty well Captain Arthurion Greymantle, and as many others, you have praised and supported his initiatives. Would it be correct to state that he is a friend, and a role model for you?”
I admit that the question has been devised to stir some reaction in my guest, but I am surprised to see him suppressing some laughter and grinning instead, shifting his gaze to the lake.
Kerengar: “Role model… well… I think he is contributing greatly to the Alliance cause, and I consider him a good friend, but he is as much as a role model for me as the turtles walking around the beach here… and to make sure that no one misunderstands, that means ‘very little’.” A brave reply indeed, I think, turning my head to glance at the huge, obtuse beasts grazing lazily on the lake weed.
“We are very different him and I. But in diversity lies strength.” He concludes.
T.A.P.: “Now, about Lordaeron, you were born here, weren’t you? Whereabouts and how long ago?”
Kerengar: “I was born and raised in the capital a little more than thirty years ago. When I saw the refugees coming from the south I came to feel responsible for the people and I think that is why I sit here as a paladin today.”
T.A.P.: “What is the landscape or place you miss more now that you are forced away from you native lands? Any particular location you would like to be able to visit in freedom and peace?”
Kerengar: “When I was a boy my brother and I used to go hunting in a nearby forest, with my father, and that place has still a special meaning to me. There I have always felt free from trouble and heavy responsibilities.” “Silverpine?” I ask. He nods silently.
“Now,” I say “you know that I always end my interviews with some personal questions. So, let’s talk about the Charity Ball.” Kerengar nods with a brief smile.
T.A.P.: “One could expect that a man like you has other things in mind than parading around the city on frivolous occasions. But in fact I have heard that you have had at least two invitations to the ball, and that one person was so furious for having being stood up by you, that she tore in pieces the dress she had carefully chosen. Is that true? What did you do indeed that night?”
Kerengar: “I cannot confirm or deny the dress incident but yes, I was invited to the ball. Sadly my duty interfered and I had to travel north that day, and missed the ball.”
T.A.P.: “Also, there were allegations, maybe slanderous, of you having a relationship with someone ‘in the illegal underground’. A rogue, perhaps?”
Kerengar: “Yes, I have heard about that one. It seems that someone tried to make me look bad spreading rumours of me having lovers in the underworld and beating up old men. None of them are true, however.”
T.A.P.: “After an adequate tip Eric Lohan, advertiser at the Blue Recluse Inn, disclosed to me that he saw you several times as a customer of that inn: same inn, same outside table, but a different damsel each time… can you confirm this?”
Kerengar: “Some people go to the Pig and Whistle, some go to the Magic Dragon… I go to the Blue Recluse. I go there from time to time with friends of mine, and that is all there is to it. I do have a favourite table, so that part I am guilty of, I suppose.”
For all this last part of the interview Sir Kerengar has displayed an enviable calm. It is very difficult to imagine this austere and dignified man as a callous womanizer, but, alas, we live in dark, unpredictable times and a certain dose of suspicion is always advisable. So I deliver a last lunge.
T.A.P.: “In the faraway regions of Kalimdor the most charismatic troll war chiefs have harems of concubines, among which they divide their amorous attentions. We agree that it would be indeed sad if the same happened, under a more respectable façade, on the Alliance side. I realise that this is an indiscreet question, but, in order to rule out any doubt, can you tell us if you have a special involvement with someone? Just one person, that is, not many.”
Sir Kerengar frowns slightly and shakes his head, while trying to shoo away a turtle that has come close to us, probably curious as well about the answer. “Well,” he says “I see relationships form and break everyday, as if the people were in a rush to share their lives, and their beds, with someone. I guess the dangers of this world are the cause… the person you are interested in might be gone the next day. Perhaps this is why people are in such a hurry, but I do not think it is the right way to go.” This bout of existential reflections is very interesting, however I was expecting just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. When I point this out my guest confirms: “No, I do not have a special someone yet.”
T.A.P.: “Sir Kerengar, I will finish with a more general question related to your life as a paladin: in an existence devoted to the unfaltering service to the Light precepts, you still feel insecure or hunted by personal demons sometimes? Where you get the strength to fight these possible set backs?”
Kerengar: “Yes, I have my doubts and times when hope falters. I think this happens to everyone and I am no different. However I find great strength from the survivors in these dark times. Their struggle for a good life encourages me and works better than any prayer, potion or spell would.”
I jot down this last reply, then I smile and thank my guest. The interview is over, and I put away my parchment and inks, now that even the moon has descended near to the horizon, ready to leave the scene.
Your chronicler,
L.K.D.
As promised I publish the first installment of my reviewing tour of the restaurants and inns around our city.
On Sunday night I visited Mr Ricaver Peterson’s restaurant along with a friend, whom I would like to thank again for his valuable assistance in this occasion.
As a quick introduction I will say that Mr Peterson, who is from Westfall, decided to open his establishment after a period spent serving in a knight order – hence the name of the tavern. While the upper floor of place is a restaurant and more ‘upper-class oriented’, the ground floor is mostly a pub, where light refreshments and drinks can be enjoyed for rather reasonable prices.
But here comes the review. Marks are given in stars: * poor ** mediocre *** fair **** good ***** excellent
THE THIRSTY KNIGHT: AN INN WITH AN ATTITUDE.
Owner: Mr Ricaver Peterson
Master Chef: Mr Borann Stormcloud
Where: The Dwarven District. First building on the right coming from Old Town.
When: used to open just in the weekends, but it is now every day from 21h until late.
Reservation recommended for the upstairs area.
Price-range: average (about 8silver per meal, drinks included).
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The Location. Some may think that the dark and polluted dwarven district is not in fact the best choice to open an inn. I partly agree with this impression, and not just because of the notorious smog cloud impending on the borough but also because of its dubious reputation in terms of petty criminality.
The atmosphere outside the inn was not the most cheerful or reassuring, and when my friend and I arrived to the place and dismounted from our horses, we noticed shady figures lingering around, more similar – I am sorry to state this – to vultures in search of prey than the usual festive crowd outside a tavern.
I must add, however, that the welcoming staff to the inn is excellent and very friendly, and the bouncer – a sturdy dwarf named Dorgano Stonebeard - does a great job in keeping troubles away from the customers, as we experienced afterwards (see below – service).
Mark: ***
The Atmosphere. The interior of the inn is pretty. The architecture is nothing extravagant or special – but we all know that monotony reigns supreme in the city buildings as far as the inside layout is concerned – I think that renown architects like Baros Alexston should apply their designer genius to devising something a bit more original.
The décor is Ironforge-inspired, with pewter mugs and other dwarven ornaments (hammers and shields) hanging from the wooden walls.
The inn, which has been recently refurbished and re-opened, is evidently enjoying a moment of great popularity, since we found it full of customers, the result being a lively environment, packed with the most different people. This adds – no doubt – to the social factor of the place, although the noise from the tables can spoil a bit the privacy some people hope to enjoy in an evening out with friends.
We were given a table upstairs, on the gallery, which, in addition to allowing a good view over the rest of the hall, provided a discreet atmosphere and a nice background for conversation.
Mark: ***1/2
The Food. The inn doesn’t have so far any written menu - it has just opened after all – but we were promptly briefed by the owner about the plates available, most of them quite country-style I would say, yet interesting: blood sausages, beer roasted boar, liver pie, clams, and others.
A fair good choice, especially if considering that the head chef, Mr Stormcloud, was on sick leave. An unfortunate occurrence, since fame has him to be one of the best chefs in town.
I was looking forward to trying his specialties, but I must say that we were rather pleased with what the owner himself cooked for us: a clam dish for me, and roast boar for my friend.
The clams were especially delicious – the very same quality and freshness that one could expect in Southshore – and accompanied by a mouth-watering herb sauce. The bread served, which is always a good sign of the quality of food in a restaurant, was fresh and crispy.
I was a bit disappointed when I heard that, due to the chef absence, there were no desserts available. I insisted a bit and the resourceful Mr Peterson performed one of his tricks and came up with two nice custard pies – I particularly appreciated his flexibility and the ability to humour the customers’ whims so promptly.
Mark: ****
Note: I cannot give the full 5 stars due to the fact that I didn’t try the chef’s plates.
Drinks. The wine and liquor list was quite long (Darkmoon and Jungelvine wine, Pinot Noir, Malt, Ale, Stout, Cherry Grog, Port and others); as announced, I have to rely on my friend’s expertise for this, due to the fact that I do not drink alcohol myself.
He tried the port, a pinot to accompany the main course, and bourbon at the end of the dinner.
His comments were quite favourable: the port had a ‘nice stingy taste’ and probably a faraway provenience. He recognized in the excellent pinot a ‘Maclure’ flavour and expressed appreciation also for the bourbon, single malt and about ten year old.
I think that, according to his positive appraising, I can give a rather high mark to the wine list.
Mark: ****
Service. We were both very impressed by the professional and courteous approach of Mr Peterson to his customers. He and his staff were never intruding, yet always ready to help, quick in serving the courses despite the large number of customers and, above all, rather effective in dealing with… troublemakers.
This last bit requires a little digression. We all know too well that, no matter where in the capital one decides to spend the evening, the chance of having our fun and, more often than not, our personal safety disrupted is very high.
Crazy bombers and robbers, leather-clad assassins, pretty girls selling poisonous flowers, feral big cats turned homicidal, misguided bards or just the usual pesky eavesdroppers: lot of potential troubles await the poor Stormwinder trying to enjoy an evening out.
This dinner was no exception, and the trouble took the form of a quite annoying individual, a gnome whose expensive, gaudy attire matched quite rude manners and immediately qualified him to my eyes as a ‘nouveau riche’.
This gnome barged into our conversation grabbing my friend’s glass of wine and drinking from it. Later he came back with a more threatening attitude, but at that point Mr Ricaver and his colleague, Master Stonebeard, had already taken action.
They were kind, but very firm, in accompanying the troublesome customer back to his table and, later, in asking him to leave. The situation was sorted out without too much inconvenience, and my friend and I agreed that it was a quite remarkable display of professionalism and correctness on the management’s part.
Mark: *****
Overall comments. Although ‘The Thirsty Knight’ is maybe not as up-market as originally advertised, I cannot but recommend this inn to everyone looking for a quite relaxed yet lively place where to enjoy good quality food and drinks at relatively fair prices.
Overall mark: ****
L.K.D.