Lauren Montrose

[Rentz Montrose]

All teenaged girls are some amount of trouble; this is a fact I accept. After all, Ocilla, that’s my wife, and I have already raised two fine, upstanding priestesses of the Light. Both my eldest daughters got into the normal sorts of mischief: staying out after curfew, sneaking into the Slaughtered Lamb, playing down beneath the Deeprun Tram. Nothing particularly harmful or embarrassing to the family.

Lauren, on the other hand, seems to delight in tormenting me. The girl simply has no respect for decorum. It wasn’t, for instance, that she felt the need to splash around in the park’s moonwell; it’s that she insisted upon doing it wearing nothing but a smile. She practically caused an interkingdom diplomatic crisis by listing the statue of Alleria Windrunner in the Valley of Heroes for auction. I’ve made enough trips to Goldshire in order to retrieve Lauren that most of the residents know me by name and point me in the right direction without my needing to ask.

It’s difficult for me to see my daughter act out. I confess, I take it as a personal failing on my part. Maybe I encouraged the wrong sorts of behavior when she was a child. Lauren always loved to run, she did so from an early age. The boys playing outside in the cathedral’s square always complained whenever she tried to join them; not because she’s a girl, but because she’s faster than any of them. I love to watch her sail over the cobblestones. Her athletic ability is a gift from the Light itself. She’s not just fast, either. Once she turned about five years old, I could always count on finding her perched in the trees outside the cathedral with the wrens, waiting for me to come home. Even though she's independent and strong, she is… she was always my little girl.

When the time came to enroll Lauren into an academy, she pleaded with me to let her train as a warrior. Of course, I flatly refused; I’ve served with distinction as a military ordinary. I’ve seen the horrors of war from just behind the lines. I’ll be damned before any child of mine comes home blind, or paralyzed, or in a box. Still she begged and cajoled and bargained, even to the point that I offered paladinhood as a compromise. It was all or nothing for Lauren, though. We fought late into the night, until finally the next morning I enrolled my daughter in the seminary and declared the matter closed.

That was the day our relationship changed. Now every day Lauren looks at me with a mix of disgust and disappointment. Everything about her has become muted, like the light within her dimmed. Every fiber of my being believes that I made the right decision, but I regret it every single day.

My girl’s first year in the seminary was a trial. She’s bright, she’s so bright, but she does just as much as she needs to eke by and nothing more. Lauren is constantly disruptive during classes and services. The bishops have tried everything they know, from extra attention to extra discipline, but Lauren has proven incorrigible at each turn.

Strangely, the unexpected arrival of The Exodar created a huge change in her attitude. When the first draenei made their way to Stormwind, Lauren became immediately fascinated. Within days she was begging me to allow her to visit the great vessel and to learn of the Light from the naaru. I admit, I practically fell over myself to get word to the priests of Azuremyst, and took great pleasure in seeing her face light up when I delivered word that Izmir agreed to take her as a student.

She’s been gone about a year now, and I miss her greatly. I think, though, this is the price I have to pay to heal our relationship. Part of me worries that she’ll make the wrong decisions away from our watchful eyes, but Ocilla reassures me that having more responsibility will cause Lauren to rise to the occasion. I pray every day that I have done the right thing.

[۞ KAT ۞ AKA Red Viper]

((This was very amazing!! ))

[Lauren Montrose]

Lauren sat on the steps of the small house in Darnassus she had called home the night before. The girl and her new lover were awakened at dawn by a tall, green-haired kal’dorei who smelled of the sea. The house the couple had assumed was empty and available did indeed have an owner, it turned out, and he was alternately shocked and bemused to find his bed occupied by two humans after a hard night’s fishing on the Veiled Sea. The couple offered apologies and tried to give the night elf some silver for his trouble, but the old man just grinned and told them they could stay at night while he was at work. Though he insisted the only payment he would accept would be a keg of rhapsody malt – alcohol being scarce on Teldrassil – the young girl suspected he found the idea of the two lovers being in his bed remuneration enough.

Beside Lauren lay a sealed letter addressed to Izmir, her former master during her seminary studies at Exodar. She assumed he was worried about her, as she had promised to be back from the midsummer festival at Azure Watch early the previous evening. She didn’t dare go back to explain in person, however; the pain in her shoulders from her prior disciplining had finally begun to fade, and she would not risk more. In the blonde haired girl’s lap lay her shield, an odd, totemlike affair given to her by a draenei shaman. Upon the shield sat an inkwell and a piece of parchment which bore the beginnings of a letter:

Mom and Dad,

I’m in Darnassus. I’ve left Exodar to continue my training as a fighter. I know you will object, but I’ve met a paladin who trains with me and keeps me safe.

Lauren twirled the white feather quill between her thumb and forefinger, unsure of what to write next. She looked up into the impossibly high canopy of leaves that overarched the kal’dorei city. Sunlight danced through the branches as the wind blew, an effect that the young girl found mesmerizing. When she finally wrestled her attention back to the ground, she was delighted to see the paladin coming back up the street and bearing a small wooden crate. Poking out from the box, Lauren say the top of a bottle of melon juice, a loaf of spice bread, a small pile of red apples, and a blanket: the makings of a picnic breakfast.

The girl leaned her elbow on the shield, her chin on her hand, and watched her lover walk toward her. A feeling grew in the pit of Lauren’s stomach, a sensation of nervousness mixed with anticipation. She could feel her heartbeat quicken. When the paladin neared, the blonde’s face broke into a smirk. She lowered her gaze and beckoned with a single finger held in front of her eyes. With a smirk, she held her arms wide, wrapped them around the holy warrior’s neck, and welcomed her protector home with a soft, lingering kiss.

[Roraran]

(( This story is so good! I love it =D ))

[Roraran]

((Lol she should join the Difius or something.))

[Stormwind]

Stormwind stank. In the Trade District it stank of ripe fruit, fish stalls and crowd sweat in a summer's heat. In the Old Town district it stank of musty alleys and spicewind kitchens. In the Dwarven District it stank of smelting oil and excavation dust. Even in the Cathedral District it stank of papyrus and lime-wash. It stank like home.

They intertwined their fingers as they walked through the bank. It wasn't that Lauren needed to help prop the older woman up - the limped gait had disappeared now that a medic had tended to the break. It was simply a physical expression of the deep affection and connection that they shared.

They had a few tasks today: provisions were first and foremost before they headed back out to Westfall. But this would be the last banking stop for some time as well as a chance to put some simple profiteering up on the Auction. Once everything was completed, the two women would re-connect with their guide and the hunter could get them to their final destination of Westfall.

Her hazel eyes glanced at Lauren every chance she could find, trying not to be obvious. Lauren caught her staring and turned to kiss her soundly. She pushed the nineteen year old back after the first kiss and scolded teasingly, "Oh no you don't, we'll wind up back in bed and it'll be as bad as Darnassus, where we didn't hit the road again for three days solid!" She chided gently but knew full well that it wouldn't be that big a tragedy - their lovemaking was fresh to them both and still at the stage where they would willingly go hungry, given the choice between food and pleasure.

Still smiling at each other with their arms now around each other's waist, they meandered down the bank steps and turned to the central gathering spot near the auction house....and both froze at the sight before them. A cluster of adventurers, senior in their years and grizzled in appearance, were chatting raucously together.

Each one wore the black and red skulled tabard that the two had seen for the very first time yesterday! These were guild members of that drunken warrior who had offered to help them out of the Deadmines...the one whose kindness had turned into a ranting and pawing of the paladin, his slurred words so disturbing that Lauren had felt the need to draw her sword and stand between her lover and the strange man as they fought their way out to the surface.

[Lauren Montrose]

Outflanked

Lauren Montrose strode out of the barracks, a fortified structure wedged into the easternmost corner of the city, in the oldest section of Stormwind. She walked into the empty flagstone courtyard, spinning her sword along its long central axis by letting it roll off the palm of her hand and snatching the handle again before it left her fingertips. She looked around to see if the space was indeed clear. The girl stopped and held her sword aloft, its hilt at eye level, its point aimed at the sky. She positioned her feet shoulder width apart. Tensing her back, she bent her wrists, letting the blade fall. Like a bolt of lightning, she spun around, swinging the sword in a vertical arc, the weapon whistling through the afternoon heat, and stopping perfectly just above the ground. She couldn't wait to try this new technique in battle.

Cheerfully sliding the sword into the black leather scabbard at her hip, Lauren took two steps toward the street.

“Hello, Little Wren.” The voice was soft, kind, and careworn. It came from an older gentleman, who stood at the foot of the steps leading up to the barracks. He wore a plain brown robe and a pair of threadbare shoes. His head was ringed by a semicircle of short white hair and he leaned on a long wooden staff that shook slightly in his aging grasp. Despite the rest of his outward appearance, his blue eyes twinkled in the hot summer sun.

Lauren stood, stunned. Her first instinct was to run away, but that wouldn't have changed the fact that she'd been discovered. In the end she did run, but toward the gentle sounding man. She threw her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. The girl stammered for a moment, her mouth held open, her voice catching in her throat. “Hi, Daddy,” she whispered, completely at a loss for more substantial words.

Rentz Montrose, in turn, let the wooden staff clatter to the ground. He gladly took his youngest daughter into his arms, just like he had for years, every evening as he left the cathedral for home. The scales on the back of Lauren's metal armor scratched his dry hands. After a long, long moment, he stood back at arm's length, looking at the young warrior. Shaking his head, he asked, “Were you ever going to come home?”

Lauren blinked. “How did you know I was here?”

“I have eyes everywhere, Wren. I have to. You're my child.”

The girl stared at her father's chest, unable to look him in the eye. “I had to be stronger before I came to see you.”

“You scared me, young lady.” Rentz's words were both an accusation and a confession. “Izmir notified me immediately when you didn't return to Azure Watch. He didn't even wait until morning. It took two more days for your letter to arrive from Darnassus.” The girl could hear the mix of emotions welling within her father: anger, frustration, but something else too. “Your mother didn't sleep the whole time, Lauren. You're too old to be behaving like this. It's well past time for you to be thinking about people other than yourself.”

This last point brought out the fight in the warrior. “I think about others! I share everything I have with Khrys! My money, my food. I risk my life for her every day--” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

For his part, Rentz simply closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly. After a moment, he looked back to his daughter. “I know that's how it works. I know the warriors rush headlong into the teeth of danger, while the healers stay back out of the fray. Still, I wasn't quite ready to know that's what you've been doing, to hear you say the words.”

Lauren wrapped her arms around her chest, very self-conscious of the pink scratches that crisscrossed her skin. “She keeps me safe, daddy. She's always behind me. Always.”

“Except when she isn't,” Rentz interrupted. He raised his hand to keep her from arguing further. “I know you, Little Wren. You're too impatient to always wait for someone else. Are you really going to stand there, look me in the eye, and promise that you've never gone out to fight by yourself?”

Lauren frowned, twisting her lips to one side. “No.”

The father looked at the daughter's face. The daughter looked at the father's feet. Neither knew what to say next.

“Lauren, listen to me--”

“No, daddy, listen to me.” The young girl's voice was defiant, but edged with fear. “This is my calling. I knew it as soon as I held a sword. I'm good, daddy; I'm so good. I learn all the time. I get stronger and more powerful every day. I'm happy, daddy. I'm so happy when I'm out there and it's just me and Khrys and my sword. It's what I was meant to do--”

Again, Rentz held up his hand to cut her off. “I know, Lauren. I'd hoped to steer you away from this path. Nothing but pain and sadness lie down this road, even for the heroes who make it back in one piece. I'd like to spare you from that, to protect you, but I can see now that isn't going to happen.”

The warrior's eyes grew wide and an excited smile played across her lips. She again embraced her father. “You mean I can keep training?! Oh, daddy! Thank you, thank you! I'll make you so proud!” Lauren's strong arms trembled, reeling with shock.

The old priest squirmed free and held his daughter's hands at arms' length. “It's not that simple, sweetheart. Izmir is furious with you. On top of your dismal performance in your studies, you humiliated him by leaving the way you did. He had half the peacekeepers at Exodar scouring the islands trying to find you. Then to learn that you disobeyed him openly, in fact that you had been doing so for weeks. The draenei may be newcomers to Azeroth, but you must understand that their link to the naaru gives them considerable sway.” Rentz trailed off. He looked skyward, trying to find the right words. “I can't put this gently, Lauren. He's moved to have you excommunicated.”

The warrior's ears rang and her vision swam. Excommunicated? Her entire life she had been taught that to be cut off from the Light was a fate worse than death. How could this be happening to her? “He can't do that. You can stop him, can't you?”

Her father shook his head. “I'm trying, Little Wren. All of us, your sisters too. We're all trying to stop it.” Rentz paused. “It doesn't look good. You managed to make an enemy out of practically every high ranking official in the church. There aren't many who will take your side.”

Lauren stammered, and so her father continued. “You know how it works, if it happens. No contact. None.” The old man looked at his beloved daughter with pleading eyes. “If it were just me, I would leave my position over this. But it isn't just me. It's Stephanie and Eleanor, too. I can't destroy your sisters' lives like that, and we can't support the family on just your mother's earnings.”

Tears began to stream down the young girl's cheeks. “It's not fair,” she whispered. “I'm not a priestess, I'm just not. I can't go back to that, not now.”

Quietly, solemnly, Rentz nodded. “I know. I wouldn't want you to.” Then with a sigh he added, “Not the way I had to.”

It took a moment for her father's admission to register with Lauren. She blinked her eyes a few times, trying to assimilate this new information. “You had to choose? What are you talking about?”

Rentz slowly, deliberately bent down and took a seat on the stone steps, groaning as he did. He looked up at his daughter, who remained standing on the sidewalk in front of him. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I was seventeen years old. My father expected me to follow in his footsteps, to become a priest, just like him.” The old man stared right through Lauren, shaking his head solemnly. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to be a soldier, just like my best friend Lorenzo.” A wry smile crossed Rentz’s face. “Yes, you are named after him. Lorenzo was two years older than me, and I wanted to be just like him. He was good looking and charming. He went to the military academy, became an expert swordsman. When he walked around Stormwind in that uniform of his, he’d turn the heads of every young lady in the city. You’d have probably been after him yourself, you know.”

Lauren grinned and her cheeks turned a bright red. She had never heard her father talk like this, and she listened intently to his every word, taking a seat beside him on the steps.

“At the end of Lorenzo’s second year at the academy, he was assigned to his first patrol. The young ones used to go out with the veterans, to learn from them in the field. He was so proud. He wound up with the Sixth Brigade patrolling the mountains between Stranglethorn and what is now Duskwood.” Rentz’s face fell, his expression went blank. “A Bloodscalp scout found them one night. Went for the weakest one. Lorenzo never had a chance.” The old man was silent for a short time. “When they brought his body home, no one was allowed to see. I…” The priest cleared his throat. “I snuck in, before the funeral. I had to see him, one last time. He was barely recognizable, Lauren. The troll had cut out his eyes, his tongue, had taken his ears and his scalp.” He sighed. “I still have nightmares about it, even now.”

Lauren looked intently at the brick sidewalk, not daring to look at her father. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”

“No, you didn’t, and neither do your sisters. Your mother doesn’t even know everything I’ve told you. I expect you to keep it that way.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl replied.

“When the time came for me to elect an academy, I wanted to sign up for the military, to live out the dream Lorenzo could not. Your grandfather absolutely forbade it. I considered leaving home, just like you, but in the end that horrific image of my closest friend paralyzed me. I fell to my own cowardice. I have a good life now, with your mother and your sisters and my work at the cathedral. Part of me regrets not taking that other path, though. And now you want to be a soldier. You want to follow in your namesake’s footsteps. I suppose it was destined to be this way.”

Rentz turned to look at his daughter. “You may not have the choice yourself. I can’t promise you have a future in the church anymore. Perhaps we could still get you within the ranks of the paladins; I don’t know. Certainly it would require penance, likely two to three years of service as a priestess, minimum. It would take a lot of luck and a lot of work on your part, Lauren. But this is the only way you can avoid the fate Izmir has set before you.” The warrior nodded wordlessly.

The priest began to struggle to his feet. Instantly Lauren sprang up, helping him stand. “I want you to sleep on this tonight. If you choose to follow your calling, I will not attempt to stop you. You must know what you’re giving up, though. Excommunication is irreversible; I know you know that. All of us must obey the edict lest it happen to us as well. But, if it truly is your calling, I know that it is what you have to do.”

Again, the old priest wrapped his arms around the young warrior. They stayed like that for quite some time before he gently pushed away and leaned again on the wooden staff.

“I love you, my Little Wren. Come home at sunrise to tell us what you have chosen.” Rentz turned away and hobbled up the street, back toward the cathedral. Lauren watched him go with blue eyes that were blurred by tears.