Once upon a time, in days of old, wide eyed gamers gathered around the tables in the basement dungeons around the world and prepared to kill dragons, become famous, and live the stories they once read about as small children. There were Legions of Knights... Archers fine... Sorcerers and Conjurers... Bards... Monks... Druids and always the Thief (good Thief of course). But someone... someone always got stuck with being the Paladin... the healer... for without which the party was truly doomed to suffer mightily. Ol' Lawful Good problem child of the realms of D&D (1st edition, of course).

Today, in a basement far removed from those days, a young Coyote... rebel scum... Chaotic Good Ranger Thief... scoundrel he... and his elderly Mage mother scurried about busy with those things of spring. Flowers and plants brought in for the harsh winter were being brought back out into the sun to frolic and bathe naked in the rain. A ritual of generations.

A crash. A cry for help. The ancient matronly magic mother had fallen... hard. Her arm had two elbows. That's not right. No panic in the young Coyote for he was wise with the centuries of his legendary being. A sigh... a breath or two. A call made. Preparations. Realization. Fear. The evil Dragon... the scourge of all that is good and right and fair was hard about the realm outside his door and bodies littered the airwaves daily. Tolling the numbers. Fear was palpable. Tangible. Real for far too many. No... panic he did not... but fear... oh yes. For he had good reason. You see, all this time... given guardianship of this bastion of grace and love and laughter... he had taken every precaution to protect and serve his parent her. No dragon was going to slay his loved ones! For I am mighty in my spirit and thou shall not pass!!!... my damn door. Nor would I ever ineptly take her out to face the dragon. But now... now... not only must I endanger her in such a way... but worse my fate! I must take her into the dragon's lair! Right into it's mouth. One breath... possible death. There was no other choice. And nothing beyond my meager skills could I do to better the situation.

However... at the entrance to the cave... the mountain... the home of the dragon and all it's kin... I found Paladins. No dragon did I see... nor did she. Such magnificent Paladins... healers... nurses and doctors and all armed to the teeth to slay the dragon. It shall not pass, they say with a smile and a "How can I help you?" My fears die away. Not today you dragon... not today.

The arm is repaired and we have returned to our humble home. My work is only beginning for a while now. But I shall never not respect the Paladins again. Every party should have at least one.