Marcus Suleria, hardened human(?) of Fauleki Academy

(AN: I hope you don't mind TMJ, going to kinda piggy back your story line, as I really like the Tobi and Lime characters and thought there would be a interesting dichotomy with the two characters, that could lead to an amusing friendship)

Paladin.

Just the word conjures up any number of images.

The noble warrior in shining armor, riding off to combat evil.

A lone man, a great lance, and a dragon.

A column of knights standing against a tide of darkness.

A Paladin is to be all these things and more.

Yet you stand here at a ceremony taking place in the Sacred Citadel. Not to claim your holy mount, but an arcane familiar.

Before you, on the great dais was the Wizened Wizard. Your father told you stories of this man. Someone beyond years...someone of unending wisdom...it was he that had personally accepted your application to Fauleki Academy. Something you would be forever grateful for. Every other time you applied your documents were sent back, thankfully to you personally and not to the Family.

The Family...even now it left something of a bad taste in your mouth.

For you and yours, the Family was the first and last (If one were lucky) place you would know. Your Brotherhood, your first stable of training.

Your Father, your Uncles, your Brothers and Nephews.

It was an odd and very...old (And to you, archaic) tradition. Not unlike a monastic order the Family was all male. No mothers, no sisters or daughters. The men were expected to be free of distraction, save for the stories from your Father, Uncles and Brothers. You were expected to focus on the martial, to be ready to answer the divine call when that time came and join one of the great 'Churches'.

These were not typically places of the Divine, though some were. No, these were the next step in training, devotion to one of the four cardinal directions, and thus the philosophy you for yourself aligned with.

the Northern Paladin, those that fight the purest of evil, and the ones that most think of when they imagine a Paladin. Holy sword and shield, ready to battle the demonic in the darkest places of the world. To be that light of hope.

The Southern Paladin, traditionally dragon slayers and those that would deal with the monstrous evils of the world. Great spears, lances and noble steeds ready to stand alone, no matter the foe. These were the lands that your Family were from. While not required for a Family to join a Church of their region, it was the most common, and yours was no exception, less than ten percent of your group went to the other Churches, but were never looked on poorly for those choices. They often brought back new tales, and more importantly, new ways of training for the future generations.

The Eastern Paladin, those that focused on healing, battling disease, pestilence, and those that cause it. Known as diplomats and healers, ones that could be the first line of defense should things fail.

The Western Paladin, ones that stand against the mortal threats of man. Cultists, bandits, murders and thieves. Those that deal with the evil within the hearts of men and women more than the creatures of nature.

And here you were...at a school for sorcerers and magi.

How you came to be here is a tale that only the head master of the Academy and the Wizened Wizard know, to others you are the oddity, as your family is known...and you are rather noticeable...

"Your turn has come. Come forth, Marcus Suleria!"

The crowd, who had been one of light merrymaking on this day of Summoning, grew a bit quiet at your name...it was known that you were of the Family orders, that you were once the most promising of your generation due to your size and strength, even if your features were typically described as 'ten miles of hard trail'. You didn't really fit the description of a 'normal' Paladin, your form dwarfing even some of the largest members of the Academy, your hair a shock of red rather than the 'standard' blond that many thought of. Your parentage was always something your Father was rather evasive about. As you knew, there were no wives or mothers in the Family, but a Paladin (Typically) was not a celibate creature. More often than not a returning hero would have one or more sons with him of varying age, all ready to being their new lives. You were no exception, though questions about your mother were frowned upon and quickly deflected. However, you knew that your mother couldn't have been normal given your size and strength. Maybe orc...maybe ogre or troll...you really never knew...maybe that was part of the reason you left...

You felt a thrill of apprehension as eyes turned to look up at you and you began to stride forward, the crowd parting easily around you. A few in the front were still making idle comments on a few of those that came before you. A young woman with one of the great Fae, a unicorn. Another jeering at a boy that was quickly sneaking away through the crowd with something in his cloak, the posture one of hopefulness despite the comments being hurled his way. You give a small smile at the young man's retreating back, he had a strength not to let those around him get him down on this day.

Squaring your broad shoulders you put on a more serious face and start to ascend the steps, taking two at a time as easily as others would one you are before the Wizened Wizard sooner than maybe you would have liked. This was a big day after all.

The elderly magi craned his head to look up at you and gave a small smile. To you this man was what a father should have been...encouraging of new things...accepting...

You spare the elderly man a smile before giving a nod, more to yourself than him, and stepped into the great Circle. You let out a shudder as the magics of this ancient place swept over you. The inset brass of the vast array lighting up, looking almost like white hot steel as the magic began to penetrate your body and suffuse you mind. Dimly you are aware of the Wizened Wizard speaking words of encouragement, to be true to your heart and to heed the call of one that would be bound to you for all your life, if not longer.

True to your heart...unbidden...maybe due to the magic, you remember the day your view of the Family changed...one of your Uncles returning from a campaign with a 'fresh' trophy of a lizardman on his belt. You had been so starry eyed looking up at him in his plate, a long pike at his back and the oddly beautiful head hanging from his belt. The iridescent scales shining in the light as dark golden eyes seemed to stare at you...stare at you in fear...

It was...wrong somehow...being of a Family known for producing powerful Dragon Slayers, you were well versed with the various lizard folk species of the lands, and from what you remember in your teachings, a head like that didn't belong to a warrior...no...that looked like a female head...

You had asked your father about it only to be met with a stern scolding, instructed that Evil knew no gender and no age. You were made to muck the stables for a week for that...but the look in those eyes never left you...the way your Uncles and Brothers talked about similar campaigns...it had shaken you...should you kill just because that is what you are taught? Were all monsters really...well...monsters?

Seeing the various familiars being summoned, some of which you would have ridden out against as a Paladin only cemented those questions in your heart, something that needed to be studied.

It was why you were here...to find answers.

Was evil absolute? What was Evil? Who decided that?

With a grunt you feel the array latch onto this, felt something....different...latch onto those questions and it seemed to be drawn to it...curious itself maybe?

After a moment of resisting the alien feeling you take a breath and yourself to calm down, reaching out with your own magic and latching onto ...something, and start to pull it back.