[ WP ] The new class of paladins does not , in fact , contain a single paladin ... just a lot of other classes doing their best to fake it .

His cheery greeting had been met with silence. Oh, well. He tried it again. 
 
 `` Welcome, students!'' 
 
 This time, a few children grumbled low *hi*s and *hello*s, every face stony whether it moved or not. Today was the first day of the school year, and for these wonderful, vibrant freshmen, it was their first day in the long journey of mastering a class. Speccing into one, the official term was. 
 
 Humphrey H. Helpe of the Holy Healers was a cleric himself, but he had taught paladins for years. Decades. Perhaps his mind was going just a tad, but his love for teaching had never once waned. This class of paladins-to-be had been hand-picked by the administration down at the lower schools, and they all looked a tad... *eccentric* for their chosen path. Certainly they would be a joy to teach. 
 
 One boy with a mop of dirty brown hair atop his head whittled at a wooden carving under his desk, paying no heed to the flakes falling to the tiled floor. He was certainly a lithe one, lacking the grand, voluminous build of a true paladin. But had n't many great holy men started off so tiny? 
 
 And inconsiderate, at that. Role call ( heh, role call ) and the lesson could wait a bit longer. 
 
 `` Sir,'' Humphrey's voice cracked like a whip. Half the class jumped. The boy did not. `` Mind you not leave the residue of your hobby about? I would certainly enjoy to set my eyes on the finished product, but Albert already has enough trouble cleaning the ectoplasm left in all of the sorcerer classrooms—'' 
 
 `` Good,'' the boy interrupted. `` He has to earn his pay, do n't he?'' 
 
 Humphrey gasped, a few students echoing him. 
 
 `` Jerry,'' a girl's collected voice rose from the back of the room. It carried with it a heavy weightiness. Surety. `` *Stop* it. We're supposed to be learning.'' 
 
 She spoke with the clear enunciation trademark of a mage dedicated to her class. Humphrey grunted, pushing down on his cluttered desk as he stood to see the back of the class. She was as skinny as the boy, Jerry the carver, with the soft face and well-groomed hair of a mage. `` Ma'am, are you misplaced?'' 
 
 `` *No*,'' the entire room erupted, a mixed bag of hearty bellows and frightened whispers. 
 
 `` Maybe,'' Jerry muttered. 
 
 Humphrey fell back into his chair, his face reddening. Never had he heard such noise in his life. Paladins were always quiet and respectful in class, just the same as clerics. 
 
 He spoke again a moment later, voice quavering. Jerry's dry drawl still rang in his ears. `` M-Maybe? Sir, with the wood, please, if you have need of a transfer, you can visit the central office.'' 
 
 He looked up, meeting Humphrey's eyes with two dark, rebellious ovals of his own. They closed as a pebble *plunked* against his head, sending him reeling. The throw had been perfect, speedy as an arrow. 
 
 `` You're ruinin' this all, you idjit,'' a nasal voice whined as Jerry rubbed where the pebble had met his skull. `` We're the first class ever to be in this kinda deal.'' 
 
 Jerry stood to his feet, quick as a rogue. His hand slid into his back pocket, concealing a dull carving knife faster than Humphrey's eyes could follow. `` Y'know what? I hate this dual stuff. I'm transferring to something that'll help me more than learning how to stand straight and suck up to your elders. A class without *you*, Rockeater.'' 
 
 Humphrey's head swam. He shook it, feeling his age as it took what seemed an hour to clear. `` Sir, th-that is far from what this class is about. Have you not specced into protection and the holy arts?'' 
 
 `` Nope,'' he replied. At first, the room was silent. Then the student who had thrown the pebble, Rockeater, echoed him. `` Nope.'' 
 
 `` No,'' the sweet, clear voice from the back of class added. 
 
 `` No,'' the entire class admitted in unison. 
 
 Humphrey gazed over them all, eyes wide. Some were tall. Some had guts formed from years of drinking despite their young age. Some were timid, cringing away as his eyes swept over them. 
 
 None of them were paladins-to-be. Not a single one. 
 
 It fell silent then. Every breath seemed to reverberate off the cramped brick walls, the students waiting for something. Anything. Jerry still stood, mouth hanging in a lopsided frown, unsure of what to do. 
 
 `` Lorie,'' someone whispered. `` Tell him.'' 
 
 The girl from the back spoke up once more, her pace even, her voice formal and powerful for a lady not yet fifteen. `` A new expansion came out over the summer, sir. Dual speccing is not only encouraged, but necessary for the Az'Badaon raid. He is a new, mysterious menace who suddenly controls half of the Jornuin nation. Which, I believe, did not exist in June. If we do not slay him, our kingdom may be destroyed.'' 
 
 `` Dual... speccing?'' Humphrey muttered. 
 
 Jerry, the rogue, grimaced. `` This is worse than when I stopped being able to poison my knives. I was always the king of the playground back then. Now it's the mages with their fancy words and binds the last for-*ever*.'' 
 
 `` Shuddup,'' the Rockeater, the ranger, bellowed. `` You c'n still lay me flat with two fingers. How's that fair?'' 
 
 `` I ca n't get to you,'' Jerry spit. `` Dumbo.'' 
 
 *Dual specs. * The words played over and over again in Humphrey's head. He had hoped he might pass on before the world came to this. When he had been a boy, he'd had the choice between warrior, healer, and ranger, nothing more... How could one keep track of all of this, now? 
 
 A student stood, his round gut toppling his desk over. A brawler, with fiery red hair lining his arms and jaw. `` At least I do n't snap in half at a pinch, y'dumb twigs.'' 
 
 `` Wan na prove it?'' Both the hunter and rogue shouted at once. 
 
 And the class fell into chaos.
