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#13434331 Sep 11, 2017 at 12:30 AM · Edited over 4 years ago
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To the honorable Lord-Marshall, Duke Maxen Montclair, Knight-Captain Ismond Laldere, and Lieutenant Markus Stonewall.

My name is Arthur Rouard, I am humbly submitting this letter of intent to show my desire to become a Ducal Guardsman, and serve the House of Montclair for as long as I am deemed fit to do so.

Five years. Five years I spent with my mother and father in Stormwind. My father, Hunfred Rouard was once a soldier in his majesty’s army. Succumbing to alcohol within months after retirement. His attempts to block out his memories resulted in an extremely unhappy homelife, my father beating both my mother, and myself. It was a crushing experience for us each, living in fear on a constant basis. My mother often advised me to remain outdoors throughout the day, when my father committed far more scandalous acts.

During these trivial hours, I’d wander the streets of Stormwind, often seeking shelter within the Cathedral of Light. It was here where I met Sir Maldain of the Silver Hand, a man who was more of a father than my own. He began to train me swordplay with wooden sticks as a pastime. Three days after my fifth birthday, my mother decided it was finally time to leave the abusive household. As she packed, my father arrived home earlier than usual, and far more drunk. My mother was struck with fear, though felt the urge to protect her own. Swiftly, she made her way in front of me, protecting me from any harm. Though her attempt was halted as my father struck her, the familiar sound of skin meeting skin rang throughout our home. Instead of taking my father’s cruelty however, she fought back. She hurried each of us towards the door, my father’s aggravation simply grew, yelling profanities at my mother and I. As she opened the door, my father reached for his blade, driving it through my mother’s back. As she fell, my father loomed over her corpse, a mono toned stare peering down at me. I returned a glance, though it was met by his blade. I too fell to the cold stone floor beneath me. Though all was not lost as a golden light appeared before me, halting my bleeding long enough to bolt from my home. Not even a week passed before my father was tried, and executed for his crimes.

Due to the fact I no longer had a home, Sir Maldain took me in as his page, where I’d learn the Virtues Three; Respect, tenacity, and compassion. I was taught to care for those around me, and help those in need. At the age of ten, I was granted a squire ship under the Silver Hand. I was taught combat both on foot, and horseback. The next eight years were long and tedious, learning scriptures upon scriptures, and how to properly harness the light’s great power. Upon reaching the age of eighteen, I was finally anointed a knight of the Silver Hand. Sir Maldain’s teachings took me far, somewhere I had never imagined I’d find myself. As a child, I had always assumed I’d simply work with my mother in her shop, or perhaps find myself in the same position as my father. The Silver Hand taught me how one should properly see life for what it is.

After my Knighthood, I found myself without purpose, without a task to carry out. I joined up with a band hedge knights, riding throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, assisting those in need, and ridding the kingdom of the evil that lurked within it. I spent eight years constantly traveling, carrying out the Virtues Three, and the light’s will. Several nights were spent in camp, or in taverns telling stories and singing songs. It felt surreal, and for those eight years I couldn’t ask for anything more. I had allies, and what felt like a purpose. Although as I grew older, I came to the realization that a band of knights couldn’t carry out the task of an army. My brother in arms, Mathias Belmont and I finally returned to Stormwind.

Within a month of our return, the Legion threat made itself painfully clear. We enlisted on the journey to the Broken Shore. It was there where we experienced battle in its fullest. Men and demons alike cut down, blood staining the ground beneath us. As heads rolled, we found ourselves at the frontlines, leading the charge. After countless hours of battle, we were surrounded, demonic bats swarming the air above us. It was then when we heard the war horn that would change the Alliance forever. The Horde retreated, my hope of peace between our two factions died that day. As the Legion loomed over us, we received the order to fall back, and so we followed. Mathias and I ensured we were some of the last to climb the rope ladder that led upwards onto the gunship. As our fallen king climbed, we were halted swiftly. It was there we witnessed Varian Wrynn’s immense sacrifice to ensure the safety of his own. We learned the cost of war, a price we would never forget.

As we returned to our homeland, I made it my crusade to fight alongside the Alliance. Knowing this ultimate cost, I offer my own life in attempt to assist the war effort we so desperately need. The Faith is all the people have in these darkest of hours. The Legion is looming over us, mere steel will not defeat this threat. Though I fear we face a greater enemy after all is done; The Horde. Our constant war was only lengthened by the Dark Lady's betrayal. This war, and those that await us need ample, and able men, I feel that this step will allow me to show my true potential. Although my time in the regiment has not been long, I wish to take the next step, and be considered for training in order to join the Vanguard that is the Ducal Guard. I do hope my experiences, and skill will prove effective in his majesty’s royal army.

Long live the King.

With respect,
Arthur Rouard
Recruit of the Elwynn Brigade
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