There was a Chopper riding into Stormwind, its rider adorned in proud, thick golden armour. A<em>Paladin</em>, a divine warrior who had brought victory through righteousness and valour. He was Alexander and when he heard there was trouble in Stormwind, he went. Stormwind was home, or rather, a farm right outside the city itself, but he had spent as much waking hours in there as he had on his fathers farm, playing with other children, running errands for mother. As the bike entered the city itself, Alexander watched for a familiar face, he knew many of the guards, some from his miscreanting as a boy, some from his studies as a Paladin.<br/><br/>Once inside the city the warrior of faith stepped from his vehicle, there was.....a foulness to the air. He couldn't deny that it put some extra weight on his heart, but it was just more crimes the Horde would pay for in the afterlife. "Guardsman." he called to the nearest of Stormwinds finest. "I am Justicar Alexander, Knight of the Silver Hand, if it is required, I would be honoured to aid the wounded in any way I can." it was a serious moment, as was suiting he removed his helm, his face was one that mirrored the pain of the Guardsman, for it was his home too that had been defiled in the attack. "Aye Paladin, there is many that could use it."<br/><br/>He replied with just a nod, his feet carried him around the city, seeking out those that would need his divine magics. Eventually, he found a pair of High Elves who appeared to be position to know, and by chance one they had already aided. "Priestesses, might I ask if there is any way I can offer my aid?" he asked, one palm resting casually at the hilt of his hammer, strapped to his waist, the other hand hanging at his side.<br/><br/>(Hope you don't mind me slotting in like this, not sure where else to go D8)