Adelard of the White Shield, or, How to Have Faith

It is a year ago.

Wake up, morning prayer. Urgh, morning prayer, he hates the morning prayer, his constant argument that Helm himself must get tired of getting berated by prayers all at once before the sun has come up has fallen on deaf ears. And so he prays in the chapel. "Great Guardian, Great Watcher, guard your faithful as they guard the innocent, watch over them as they brandish your shield." He flips the page to the next prayer and reads aloud the next passage. He can't help but scowl as he listens to the rest of his squadron pray, listens to their dull and rote recitations, it has become a habit to them, just as eating, sleeping, shaving. When was the last time they really thought about the words they read, thought about the oaths they throw around like simple contract. But the sun has risen, he must join the great hall's feast.

He follows his squadron from the small chapel of the Blue Tower into the main hall of the monastery, sitting next to them as a whole host of clerics, monks and healers settle down around the table. Porridge is slowly scooped into each person's bowl, disappearing down gullets almost as fast as it fills the bowl. He smiles as the table begins to joke and discuss the day's plans. His ears pick up a conversation between Sister Clara of the Watchful Light and High Paladin Hargreaves of his own Order of the Blue Tower, it wasn't an important discussion, it rarely was. But even the small things, the allocation of donations, the resupply of bandages to the small clinic that made up the front facing end of the monastery, all under the watchful eye of the beautiful stained glass icons of Helm, the small things felt comforting. Slowly the table begins to empty as the rest of the monastery goes to their studies and duties, and even some of the junior members of his order make their way to the dreaded courtyard where they were to train under the watchful eye of the master of arms. He remembers his days under the baking sun, the hours of exercise turning his body into the thing it was today. But he has a free day for once, as do the rest of his companions. Suddenly he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.
"Adelard! Paladin Yvette and I are heading into town for a day out, you coming?"
He looks up into the crooked grin of his old friend Regis, not his fault of course, a rather skittish horse a few years ago had broken his jaw and ever since he had refused every offer to have the clerics heal it properly in an apparent attempt to 'impress the cute guys in town with rugged charm'
"Sadly not Regis, Mother Ylia said I could have a browse through the library today, wanted to have a look at some of the tomes on fiends and fey"
"Awww, nerd. Can I convince you with a visit to the Golden Ox? I even think that young lady Valencia is working there today."

Paladin Regis deftly dodges the light jab Adelard throws with a chuckle and the two share a grin.
"Well I can't force you, Helm watch over you brother."
"And you Regis, make sure to bring back a few bottles of wine for the rest of us"
He watches the two paladins depart before neatly placing his bowl at the end of the great table and making his way to the library. The smell of parchment and incense washes over him as he enters the quiet space and quickly makes his way to the shelves of tomes. Running his fingers over the leather spines he stops at a book titled "Baatezu, Tanari'i, Yugoloths and their associated banes". Even in the daylight hours he has to light a candle as he takes the book and lays it on one of many stands that dot the library.

Hours pass as he takes in every little detail, the Maraliths and their propensity for betrayal, the Abishai and their many forms, the Bargheists and their shapeshifting powers. The activity of the library passes around him but he never loses focus, never strays from his study. Eventually the tome comes to an end. His mind begins to turn to other matters but deep down he feels a strange... wrongness. All these demons, all these devils, how many times have they broken through to the mortal plane, how many times have they caused such great harm to innocent life, and yet the first time he is encountering any of them is in this old book, untouched for years. Nine years in the monastery, eight of those in the Order of the Blue Tower, but none spent further away than the bustling town square. His thoughts are pierced by a sudden presence in front of him, the shape of High Paladin Hargreaves slowly materialising through the fog of his concentration.
"Adelard, I thought I might find you here, anything interesting?"
"Hm? Oh sorry sir, yes actually, I found this tucked away on one of the shelves. Its been rather enlightening"
"Ah yes, I remember reading it many years ago shortly after I had taken my oath, although I do find a lot of it fairly unnecessary it makes some useful points. In fact its section on chain devils saved the life of my shield-companion on a mission once."
A moment of quiet reflection passes slowly before Adelard speaks up.
"Sir, if I may ask. How old were you when you undertook that mission?"
The elder paladin raises an eyebrow in surprise.
"Why I would have been.. twenty eight I believe, it was seven years after I had been inducted into the order, or maybe six, it was many years ago now."
"That would have been during... during His absence. You know it's funny I've been reading the record of deeds in the chapterhouse recently and well if I may speak plainly our order did so much before His return but then the list of deeds just stops. It's like our order has almost disappeared in the years since."
Hargreaves is still as a mountain, almost... afraid.
"Adelard, you know that should we be needed we will respond but we simply haven't been called upon in all these years."
"But sir! When has this land ever been truly safe? When has there ever been a time where we truly haven't been needed, we are bound to protect those who cannot protect themselves and frankly-"
"Do not quote your oath at me boy!"
The library was silent before, but its silence now is thicker, more palpable. The High Paladin's trembling fist the only motion as the two stare at each other. Then, after a moment that feels like days Adelard nods quietly and stands, straightening his habit and bowing as he quickly leaves.

His mind races as he hurries towards the chapterhouse, the eyes emblazoned into almost every wall and door staring at him almost accusatorily. With a slam he shuts the door to his room, the eye emblazoned into his chest plate following him from where it sits on its rack. This isn't right, this cannot be right. Almost fifteen years of nothing, whilst the cries of the defenceless prayed for divine intervention, nothing. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was heresy, but had sworn an oath, an oath to be that intervention, to be that shield that guarded the light and kept out the darkness. They all had, Yvette, Regis, Hargreaves, they were the order of the Blue Tower, Helm's shields, paladins.

He stands abruptly and marches to his equipment racks. He would honour his oath, no matter what the others said. They had forsaken their oaths, grown complacent. With every piece he buckles and straps he recites another prayer, another blessing. The final piece slides into place, the left gauntlet, the eye emblazoned on its back a final reminder that what he was doing was right. The eye, the symbol, the ideal of hope, not of its wielder but of the desperate and dying, the hope that someone somewhere cared. He hefts his great shield, its leather handles reassuring and familiar as his grip tightens. He can hear the whispers of the monks as he marches from the chapterhouse to the gates of the monastery. Suddenly his path is blocked.
"Brother? Is something wrong?"
He looks at the two younger paladins guarding the gate, he cannot lie to them, not now.
"Stand aside Jakob, and you Marie, I'm leaving"
"Why do you carry your blade, you're not on duty today I thought?"
"I said stand aside. Now"
The two nervously rest their hands on the hilts of their blades, unsure as to what actions they should take in the face of their senior. Then the High Paladin's voice cuts through the uncertainty from the doors to the great hall.
"Stand down Adelard, I gave you no order to bear arms and no order to leave"
Adelard spins to face him, hefting his shield as if it has any chance at blocking the old warrior's words
"I'm obeying my oath sir, for the first time I understand the words, I know what I truly swore to do"
Both men draw their blades, Adelard's polished and delicate, Hargreaves' a battered hulk of steel, still razor sharp after years of abuse. The older paladin is the first to speak.
"Your oath? You dare speak of your oath when you are so quick to turn your back on your order?"
The words come to Adelard instinctively
"He of the Unsleeping Eyes, Great Guard and Ever Vigilant, cast your unending gaze upon me."
The two novices are frozen in fear, but still their lips move in time, subconsciously echoing the oath all four of them took
"I pledge to be your shield against danger, your light in the dark, your hope in the deepest depths of fear. To uphold your law, just as my word is my law, I pledge to be honest, just and true. When the innocent suffer I will be their guardian, and I will ensure that those who are to suffer will never know the face of their doom. I am the first line of defence, I am your Guardian"
Even the now furious Hargreaves cannot interrupt, his own voice joining in as the final line is spoken. As Adelard's palms sweat under the heavy gauntlets he tightens his grip on his shield, unsure of what the next few minutes holds. Then the High Paladin takes another step forward sword raised.
"You swore your oath just as I did many years ago, but you still have no idea just what it means. You claim to uphold your oath just as you turn your back on your order, your family, your purpose. How many of your shield-companions will die if you make this choice?"

Adelard grits his teeth and shifts his feet into a defensive stance, placing his full mass behind his shield, sword poised to strike.
"You're afraid, you're afraid to send us out, afraid to reckon with what we have become, what you have become. When He returned you finally realised the truth, didn't you sir"
Hargreaves scowls and strikes, but no quick blow can make it through such a prepared bulwark, the force dissipating through Adelard's arm, the banding of the shield ringing out with the vibration.
"You took your oath without a god to hear didn't you? You had to find faith in words and ideals. You had to hope that you were fighting for something, that your faith would survive the battles and suffering. But then the Great Guard returned and you learnt something."
Another blow rings off the shield as the High Paladin cries out in rage.
"You learnt what what a true cause really looked like didn't you"
Another blow, and another, each bouncing off in turn as Adelard shifts and turns to deflect the strikes.
"And you learnt that your faith in words and hope meant nothing, nothing in the face of true faith, you learnt your oath was never truly real"
Suddenly the shield twist and he brings his sword up to bear against the old paladin's blade. With a flash of blue light and an ear splitting crack Hargreaves' sword is cut in two.

The courtyard is completely still save for the heaving chests of the two combatants, Adelard's blade hovering an inch from Hargreaves' neck.

"But I have faith."

A month later he has arrived in Kantas hearing rumours of a place filled with daring danger and perilous adventure. After all, someone has to make sure adventurers get to go home at the end of the day, who better than a champion of Helm. Who better than a man with true faith.