Blame Paladins

The topic for this weeks Blog Azeroth was "How do you think NPC's view/treat your Class?" The following comes out of some role play that came out of that along with some other situations.  Many Thanks to Anea of Obeying the Muse for the original idea.
 
"I was only trying to help." Syyiand whined, even in humanoid form he sounded like a pile of leaves rustling in the wind as he shuffled along in Therigwin's long strided wake. "How was I suppose to know?"

"Sy, your a healer! Surely at some point one of your trainers mentioned that alcohol is a depressant." Therigwin retorted in exasperation.

"Well, yeah, but the last time I saw you and Amalt get inebriated you attacked the Violet Hold in nothing but your Winterveil suits....I thought maybe it was different for humans than elves." The druid explained anxiously.

Therigwin rubbed the back of his neck and flushed, never breaking stride. The truth was he had been so plastered after last years Winterveil party he hasn't been able to see straight and most of his memories of that that night were VERY fuzzy. It didn't help that people kept referring to things he and his friends had supposedly done while in their drunken state either.

Rounding the corner the two came to a abrupt stop at the sight before them. Daraia sat at a large round table in the corner, weapons of various types laid out before her, a mug cradled in her lap. Her feet were up on the table, hair coming lose from its usual confining bun. A disapproving frown marred her face as she examined the axe in her hands through glazed eyes.

"Light, Sy just how much did you GIVE her?"  Moving cautiously, Therigwin approached the table. "Hello Sweetheart, I understand you haven't been having a very good day."  The sound of thundering footsteps had him turning back towards Syyiand to discover the arrival of the rest of the officers. Kikiloo and Schaikera quickly pushed past Syyiand to come flank him.

"When we saw you and Sy going by so quickly we followed." Kiki remarked as way of explanation.

"So do you know what day it is today?" Daraia slurred suddenly. "My birthing day. *hic* While cleaning my axe this morning I noticed something." Lurching forward she tossed the axe in her hand at the far wall embedding the blade. She had obviously been using it as a target for quite a while as weapons and holes doted the surface. Hands now free she proceeded to push the loose locks of hair out of her face revealing silver streaks at her temples. "SEE!"

"OH!" A chorus seemed to have risen from the women beside Therigwin.

Bewildered Therigwin turned from one woman to another, before remarking, "But Honey, I went completely gray after the incident at the Wrathgate and I am younger than you, why..." Suddenly his knees buckled beneath him as pain shot from his head down. A pair of fists had connected with his skull. Kikiloo being a priest and wearing cloth hadn't done much damage but Schaikera was a Holy Paladin and plate-mail HURT.

"NOT helping." The ladies chorused again.

By the time his eyes had stopped watering Syyiand and Amalt had assisting him into a chair.

"When we saw them attack we figured we had better come even the odds" Amalt explained eying the three women with some intrepidation. "What exactly is going on?" He questioned quietly out of the side of his mouth.

"I'm going soft and getting sloppy." Daraia declared, tipping her chair back once more to place her booted feet on the table top. She then proceeding to swing the now empty mug in the air. "They all say never trust a rogue but it is really Paladins that are the deceitful ones."  Pausing briefly she turned to pat Schaikera on the shoulder in sympathy. "Sorry Kera, but it is true. When I first started out I could never go into a shop or even walk down a street without someone watching me, expecting the worst." Brows furrowed she considered that truth for a moment. "Its funny, I've never minded being referred to as spy or even an assassin, but to this day I can't stand to be called a thief...." Shrugging she continued. "Anyway, every thing was about planning, picking the fights, setting up the kills, PATIENCE. But now look at me, I have more titles, mounts, pets and money than I know what to do with. I'm a bloody AMBASSADOR with more races than I once knew existed. Even people I have never MET seem to know who I am. Battles are fought now by just wading in and start swinging, the finesse is gone. It....it seems WRONG. I LIKED obscurity. I LOVED the shadows...and now everything is bathed in light....and it is all the Paladins fault."

"How is this because of Paladins?" Amalt asked offended. Then wagging his finger he continued. "And lets be honest here Daraia you ARE a thief. How many people do you know that complain because the Lich King didn't have pockets you could pick? You'd riffle though everyone's pockets if you could, you have sticky fingers. Goblin's check their purses whenever you saunter by." Slamming down onto a bench Amalt crossed his arms and glowered.

"Think back to when we first started out Amalt. Our jobs were almost always on behalf of Paladins." Daraia shot back, feet slamming to the floor. "You goody two shoes are ALWAYS up to your visors in everything going on and usually some how the ones footing the bill to get someone else to fix whatever problems happen to come along." Arms waving she continued."It is all an insidious plot to get us to become respectable and how SI:7 hasn't caught on to it yet I don't know." Jumping up from her chair Daraia began circling the table, each revolution picking up a weapon to send it spinning off towards her previous target wall. " It use to be there were tons of rogues, we were everywhere! Now we're an endangered species. Instead what do you trip over every time you turn around? Paladins! And when one of you goes to the bad? How well do you all handle that? Hmmm? Got to sweep THAT under the rug as quickly as possible. Zelek, Rivendale, Arthas...." Daraia continued to pace and lecture, her voice slowly growing in strength despite an occasional hiccup or slur. "Then look what you lot all did to poor Darian and the Death knights..."

"This is why Daraia doesn't drink Sy" Therigwin muttered, tenderly testing the lump on his head from Schaikera. "She is blunt enough when she is sober, but give her even a little bit of alcohol and it is as if all the filters shut off." Syyiand just nodded his head, by this time a tad dizzy from watching Daraia's laps around the table.

"Rogues today are so CLUELESS." Daraia continued, launching into another subject. "I had one today who couldn't tell the difference between Killing spree and Pick Pocket. Granted it was a gnome but still. She tried to tell me that she just got so frustrated because she couldn't reach the Val'kyr that she became enraged and lost her temper...What does she think she is a Warrior in LEATHER?!?!? Most of the young ones have no idea how to pick a lock, they just don't see the need. It makes me feel ancient."  Sighing Daraia came to an abrupt halt, leaning against the wall forlornly. "We use to proudly declare how we all did it from behind..."

After this pronouncement Amalt started sputtering with laughter, Kikiloo, covered her mouth to muffle her giggles and Schaikera's ears turned red. Syyiand just looked confused.

Gingerly Therigwin eased out of his chair to carefully approach Daraia. "Love, you have had a little to much to drink. Maybe it would be a good idea to go get some rest."

"I don't drink, I don't use mana so what is the point? I just wanted some Thistle Tea." Daraia moaned, rubbing her temples she looked up with bleary eyes. "It has been so long since I have had any you know? I knew it wouldn't be the pick me it up it use to be I just thought one cup of it would be nice. But something was off...maybe my Swiftthistle was to old?"

"It's my fault Dar, you seemed down so I thought if I added a little Caraway Burnwine it would help you to feel better." Syyiand interrupted, wringing his hands. "Honest, I was only trying to help!"

"The world trembles when you say that phrase Sy, for surely disaster follows your best intentions." Daraia intoned, weaving unsteadily as she push away from the wall. "Last time I felt like this I woke up married to Therigwin...." Pitching forward, she passed out, Therigwin catching her before she hit the floor.

"Oh come on!" Amalt protested, "It was just getting interesting!"

Therigwin glared at his fellow paladin, while tenderly gathered his wife up.  "Come on Love, lets get you to bed and hopefully when you wake up you won't remember any of this." A soft snore was her only response.