Peek: Another Shield in the Wall (Patreon)

Faeir tries to keep his nerves calm as the stands in the church courtyard. His parents are nervous about him doing this, but he wants more than to sew! He doesn't hate knowing how. In fact, he finds it rather soothing to mend clothes, but he wants something more.

He wants to be something more, and the Church of the Crystal Shield offers just that. The young elf looks around, trying to be subtle about it, and failing miserably. At least he's not the only one shifting his feet and looking at everyone around him. The orphans are easy to spot, with clothes that are often more patch than not, but they're still fully functional as clothes. The poorer ones are also easy to see, with threadbare clothes and not much meat on their bones.

The handful of well off acolytes are easy to spot, standing out in new clothes and trying to look like they're prepared for what's about to come. He had heard acolytes are treated as individuals, not what their pasts are, and standing out in the courtyard with everyone... he can believe it. Nobles would definitely try to get their kids in a special group, but the Shield doesn't do that.

If you want to protect, you will do so side by side with others. Social standing is no matter.

Yet even with that ideal, he can still see a few looking at the others like they're tools rather than comrades in arms. Not that any of them there, even the nobles, have ever held a shield before. Still, some people are convinced they're better than others, and good luck convincing them otherwise.

The chatter among the kids quickly dies as the door to the church opens, and it's not difficult to understand why. They're not being addressed by a priest or cleric, but a paladin. Faeir can only stare at the tall elven woman in plate as she strides through the throng of kids, her eyes measuring them all as she goes. He feels woefully inadequate under her gaze, but though it's calculating, it's also somewhat warm, like a potter examining clay. She's not expecting fine pottery, at least not yet. She's seeing what she has to work with.

She soon stands before them all, silence reigning as she takes the time to meet every pair of eyes. Only then does she depose the quiet. "So, you all wish to dedicate yourselves to the Shield?" she asks, and revives murmurs and nods in response. She smiles in turn.

"Good. None of you have your classes yet, and I'm sure you've heard people talking about how much we're trying to recruit youths without them yet, though I imagine the reasons are only rumors so far." She takes a moment to run her gaze over everyone again, and Faeir can't help but look around as well, noticing a few of the young nobles looking frustrated at not knowing the details.

"The answer is both simple and profound: The Crystal Shield has been gifted a new class, one It has been working toward for only It knows how long. So far, only a select few paladins have managed to advance into it, but they are not the ones who first received the Legionnaire Paladin class. That honor goes to a young orcish lad, though I won't give any details about him, except that he is still too young to truly teach new paladins just yet."

She chuckles and strides forward into the middle of the crowd. "Line up on either side of me," she orders, and they all rush to obey. It's messy, but she's patient, and even resumes talking as they all try to organize themselves. "So it is up to paladins like myself to try to guide and mold you all into this class. But don't get it wrong. While the Shield has many paladins, It still has need for clerics, priests, historians, and many other classes. A paladin will protect against attack, but the people need protection from more than simple harm. The path of the paladin is not for everyone. If you don't think you're ready for it, return to where you were. It is a dangerous class, and if you have even the slightest doubt, there is no shame in taking a safer path."

She smiles, warm and bright, clearly thinking of friends. "A shield will take the hit, but it still needs an arm to hold it. And an arm is far more versatile than a shield. If you wish to be the arm, return to your spots. If you wish to be the shield... walk with me."

Most of the others stay, but Faeir can't help but follow her, as well as several others. The paladin leads them out of the courtyard and into a training yard. "Two on each side," she casually commands and comes to a stop, and they all do their best to stand with some semblance of order at her side.

He's on the outside to her left, with a noble between them. Thankfully, this noble looks to be more bored than judgemental, but someone bored doesn't volunteer to be a shield. He meets Faeir's eyes and gives a subtle nod, his fellow elf acknowledging him without any disdain, at least. On the far side of the Paladin, next to her is a tall and skinny minotaur girl, looking like her last meal was a distant, unpleasant memory. And on the far side of her, a rather short Owlkin lad, looking around curiously.

"I am Paladin Hellan, and I will be instructing you in the ways of the Shield and the ways of the paladin. All of you: left foot back, arm raised at chest level. Like this," she says, immediately taking a defensive pose, though she doesn't don the shield from her back. They all copy her as best as they can, but even Faeir can see how poor their forms are compared to hers. But she doesn't chastise them.

Instead, he feels mana start to flow as she speaks. "The Legionnaire Paladin is not the lone shield in the wilderness. More than any other paladin, we require support. But by that same token, more than any other paladin, we provide support. Shield Wall."

The four gasp, even the disinterested noble, as shields materialize on their arms, crystalline and weightless. He can feel the shield... or maybe the Shield gently nudging him, whispering how to properly link his shield with the noble beside him, and he can feel the others shifting their own stances slightly to mesh all together.

"This is what it means to be a Legionnaire Paladin. A single brick is no obstacle, but a properly built wall can be all but impossible to overcome. We are the wall." She releases the skill and Faeir releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. From the gasps of the others, he wasn't the only one.

Paladin Hellan steps forward and turns to look them all over, a smile on her face. "I'll let you all catch your breaths, then take you to the dorms. You're more drained than I think any of you expect. Don't be afraid to ask for seconds at the cafeteria. Training is hungry business. I look forward to teaching you four, and I hope you four are looking forward to learning."

Faeir glances at the others, and though they are all breathing hard, they all look determined, in their own way. The minotaur girl has a fire in her eyes, and the owlkin has stopped looking around and fixed his eyes on the Paladin. Even the noble has lost the dull look in his eyes. Faeir can only imagine what he looks like, but he is also determined to gain this class.

She called them the wall, but to him, it felt more like being the thread, the stitching that keeps clothes from falling apart. One misplaced stitch can ruin the whole piece, but when done properly, the thin little thread will withstand more punishment than most can imagine.

He can't wait to start.