Hi everyone! First of all, I apologize for my two-month hiatus but it took some time to think in more detail what I wanted to do. I've finally made up my mind on my next stories. This one, Under the Scarlet Banner is a story about the Scarlet Crusade's campaign against the Scourge before the World of Warcraft and the colossal efforts its leaders and members went through to realize their dreams of rebuilding the lost kingdom. Obviously, this is an independent story from Treachery and I hope that I've done the planning process better this time around. That being said, I truly hope you'll enjoy this story and if you're interested, you may also check the other, Land Before Time-themed story that's coming along with this one! I'll write these simultaneously but the next chapter I'll release will be to this story.
Gathering of the Legends
Fight for honor, your people and strive to save that which is still pure in our world. Our foes may be overwhelming and horrifying in brutality but our duty remains. Arthas and the Scourge can be stopped but only with the Light's blessing. That is why you must never forsake the righteous path of the Silver Hand and the will to defend the innocent.
-Uther the Lightbringer
Among the burning houses moved a silent host of knights, knowing their fight would be lost if they lingered in the cursed streets for too long. The infiltration of the cursed city was a risky endeavor but one that each of them was willing to take. The group's leader, Saidan Dathrohan, couldn't shake the feeling of pride and anticipation as he thought about the things that would unfold here today as he saw an opening far in the distance. He remembered each one of the streets and the times when he still worked for the people of the lost city were still fresh in his mind. Those days were long gone but even then, the paladin couldn't help but feel beaten on the rows of ever-burning lanes and terrifying reminders of the people who had once inhabited the capital of Eastern Lordaeron. Above the burning hellscape floated the source of the corruption in the city, the citadel of Naxxramas. Its eerie shadow covered the entire city, a testament to the new order of the defiled lands.
At the end of the winding, narrow street opened a square which had once been a magnificent sight, one of the hearts of the mighty city of Stratholme. The Crusaders' Square, as it was called, was a center of commerce and public events in the western neighborhoods of Stratholme. But most importantly for the paladins, it housed their destination, the famed Silver Hand Bastion which had for centuries been the refuge of hope during times of war and peace. A symbol of valor and righteousness in the once proud center of eastern Lordaeron. How fitting that it was chosen to be the meeting place for those seeking to reestablish it as the symbol of Light it had always been.
Saidan or his host didn't waver a moment as they marched on into the square swarmed by hordes of ghouls and shades. If anything, the sight of the undead crawling the streets made them even more willing to fight. Their homeland, their families… nearly of those here today they had lost everything to those monsters. If they had to lay down their lives to stand a change against this foe, so be it.
"Charge! Purge this sacred place of those monsters!" Dathrohan cried as he quickened his pace to attack the horde of rotting flesh swarming between him and the Bastion. His large, red blade shined with bright light as it clashed with the warriors of the undead horde. The foe outnumbered them greatly but without proper leadership, they weren't able to put an effective plan to repel the attacking knights. Even then, the mere number and brutality of the rotting corpses made them a formidable enemy.
Saidan gritted his teeth as a group of ghouls charged at him from his sides. The paladin waved his hand swiftly and three of the attackers suddenly started to burn from the inside. Soon, they fell as the holy fire burned their remaining flesh. The knight's allies managed to dislodge the remaining attackers from their leader but the enemy's numbers were seemingly endless. The group of knight's healed each other's wounds but they wouldn't be able to hold the enemy off for much longer.
Dozens upon dozens of undead fell upon the swords of the knights of the Silver Hand. All of them knew that they had to be able to fight the enemy off if their new initiative was to have any chance of success. Meter by meter, the gate of the Silver Hand bastion came closer and the group's wounds grew more severe. Dathrohan let out a roar when and quickened his pace while remnants of undead broke down under his legs. However, the attack only decided by an encouraging yell from the gates of the mighty fortress.
"Death to the Scourge!"
A second host of knights attacked the ghouls from the other side, quickly slicing through any resistance they could put on the living. Dathrohan wasted no time utilizing the new opportunity and ran towards safety. Hundreds of undead were heading towards them from the depths of the cursed city, a force that no small group of knights could withstand. The two groups of paladins retreated into the building slowly, defiantly holding the undead back as they rose the stairs slowly. When the last of them had reached the shelter, the wall-like gate was finally sealed. Without a leader, the mindless horde of undead wouldn't be able to breach the gate. Dathrohan and his followers took a moment to catch his breath and to revel in the fact that his daring plan to infiltrate the city had worked without any casualties. There were a few serious injuries and cuts but it was nothing that couldn't be healed.
"Good job, Abbendis. That's the only thing that'll do for those light-forsaken monsters. Are the other ones here already?" The younger knight finally said as he begun to calm down. The forces of the Scourge seldom were that easily surprised but even then, the fight would have brought casualties if it weren't for Abbendis' knights.
"You were the last one, Dathrohan. Welcome! We have a lot to discuss…" Abbendis was clearly pleased now that the last of the groups had arrived. He was about to turn away when Saidan asked him another question.
"And more importantly, have all of them proved themselves to be loyal? We must be prepared to do anything before the end." Saidan's voice resonated with great passion and hidden hatred. Abbendis turned to look at him in slight surprise.
"We all are. Lordaeron will be restored before long. Each of us have proved our loyalty many times over, Dathrohan. If you still doubt them, you'll have to ask them yourself." The General turned around and headed deeper into the building. Saidan truly wished that his comrade was right and begun to follow him. Abbendis wasn't the one he was doubting but there was no telling what would happen before the end. He was dedicated to anything to achieve the knights' goals, no matter horrifying they might be. The light-haired knight looked around himself when they headed towards the Hall of Lights. He had spent years stationed here in the service of the old order. Even now, the sacred rays of light flowed through the darkened windows as the last remains of the slayed undead were being carried away from the holy building. Saidan knew each of the stones in the walls and each ruined painting and bookshelf that weren't there anymore. The citadel was a mere shadow, a ruin of its former self but if this new dream proved a success, maybe he would once again be able to call this most holy of places his home. He would give his all to pursue that dream.
"Our last honored comrade is finally here! Please welcome lord Saidan Dathrohan!" An aging man spoke with a chanting voice from the back of the innermost sanctum. Dozens of knights were assembled around him as he bid his welcome to the newcomers. They were greeted with applause and relief. None of them had waited for long as the meeting had been planned for that morning but it was far from certain all of them would succeed in their journey. Saidan was a legend among the members of Silver Hand, one of the original five knights picked by the revered Alonsus Faol himself. His participation in the new order would be crucial to its success.
"Thank you, Isillien. I wouldn't have missed this meeting for any price. I've waited far too long for this." Saidan said as he took a seat in the place of corner that was clearly reserved for him and his followers. The Argent Throne, as it was called, was a perfect place for this meeting: it was the residence of the leader of the united order of the Silver Hand that would soon pass into history. Yet, holding this monumental meeting here would be a way to put the withered order to rest while signaling that a new force was born upon its ruins.
"Now, our numbers are complete. I cannot express my gratitude to any of you but I'll say this. Today, we will make history. We have the purest, most devoted people left from our old order and kingdom, united for the first time since Uther's passing. Thus far, we have only scrambled for survival in our strongholds, unable to stem the endless tide of death in our beloved homeland. Today, that will end. Today, we will begin something that will echo through the ages! On this day, a new order will be born!" All the negotiations on the practical issues had been completed already between the leaders and this was mainly a ceremony to bring all of the signatories together to signal the birth of a united high command of the reborn order of the Silver Hand.
Immediately, all of those present rose up from their seats, cheering in unison to commemorate the great occasion they were witnessing. A glimmer of hope that had been lingering for so long grew in strength, illuminating the room around them. After the noise had settled down, Isillien spoke once again.
"All of the preparations are already complete. All except for one. We need one of you to unite us under his leadership. One of us must rise as the Grand Crusader!" The priest's voice rang through the blackened walls of the great hall as he spoke in a pompous voice. All of those present knew what was coming. Dathrohan knew that he was one of the more likely candidates due to his highly respected rank among the Silver Hand. Few possessed his vigor and strength as well as his lack of patience for stalling. However, there was one serious contender for him.
Not far to his left stood another legendary figure of the old order. The hero of the Blackrock, the Bane of the Scourge, the legendary Ashbringer Alexandros Mograine. He, too. was a born leader and an inspiring figure for anyone around him. His weapon laid by his side, shining its pure light around the dark hall. That weapon had vanquished thousands of undeath and its wielder was a hero of numerous battles. Whatever would be chosen, Dathrohan knew he would follow or lead his comrades to his best ability.
"We have five candidates. Let each of them speak a few words before you, my comrades, will make the choice. Our champions, be sure to keep the Light as your only witness and judge. First, we have the revered general Abbendis who defended Tyr's Hand with his life during the Great War!" The middle-aged man rose to many applauds and waited for a moment until he spoke in a loud, determined but in somewhat neutral voice.
"All my life I have served the people of Lordaeron and fought to safeguard our lands against every enemy we have faced. Even now, my duty remains the same. I swear that I will give my all to save the people who still are living in peace and to restore our great kingdom! Whether as the Grand Crusader or not, you will have my support and guidance!" A revering silence fell upon the hall when the General sat down. All of those present knew he would be a formidable asset to the new order. Isillien continued with his usual chanting voice. The priest wore a robe of white, the usual clothing of a priest of the Church.
"Next we have his daughter Brigitte Abbendis who saved the lands of Havenshire and New Avalon from the undead! Her bravery and courage helped to stem the Scourge's offensive and the people of our eastern coast owe their lives to her!" The young captain wasn't considered to be the strongest nominee for the post of the Grand Crusader but none questioned her tactical skills and bravery. She would become a mighty leader one day but for now, she was heavily overshadowed by her father. She rose up and spoke in a more silent, even restrained voice. However, her expression showed that she wasn't any softer than the older Abbendis.
"Their numbers are endless. Defeating them will be a great endeavor but I have seen it happen. They can be beaten. And as long as there's a tiny bit of chance to beat those monsters, I will give my last breath for our cause! You have my word of this!" The response wasn't any less enthusiastic as the young knight sat down.
"The light's chosen knight, Ashbringer Alexandros Mograine! He has vanquished more of those devils than the rest of us combined and proved his worth against the orcs and undead! He is a man who we should all try to follow in our actions!" This time the hall exploded into a chorus of cheers and salutes. Mograine's presence gave them all hope of a better tomorrow and of an eventual victory. During the Second War, many battles were won because of him and back then, he didn't even wield his weapon of legend. The aging warrior rose slowly and his voice echoed in the ears of everyone present.
"My old friend Anduin Lothar taught me that no matter how savage and overwhelming the enemy, the Light will guide the righteous to victory! We won the fight against the orcs even if they were on the gates of Lordaeron itself and we will beat back the Scourge. Even the Lion's death paved way for an eventual victory and that is what I ask of myself and from all of you. Whatever you do, remember that no sacrifice is in vain. As the Ashbringer, and your potential grand Crusader, I swear that Arthas will pay for his betrayal! For the line of the Menethil!" It was clear that here was a living legend of the defenders of the light. Even Dahtrohan confessed to himself that this was a man he could follow. A paladin without equal.
"Highlord Taelan Fordring, the Lord of Mardenholde and the son of the once-famed Tirion Fordring!" This time the response was more quiet, without major salutes. Taelan was little more than a boy and he had joined the Crusade because of his position and lineage but even then, the young paladin's heritage still took a great toll on his reputation.
"I will prove to you that I'm much more than my father ever was. I will not waver in the face of the enemy and I will make Hearthglen the haven of hope and light in these cursed lands! The Scourge will scatter before the house of Fordring once again!" Taelan's voice was less pompous and it even held a flicker of hesitation. He hadn't wanted to dissolve the old order in the first place but all of his comrades had agreed with the other leaders of the Silver Hand. He had no chance but to comply.
"And finally, one of Faol's chosen, one of the legendary five founders of the Silver Hand! Welcome the hero of Lordaeron, Saidan Dathrohan!"
The brown-haired knight took a moment before he rose up to speak. He looked at the many statues and ruined bookshelves that dotted the Argent Hall and the corridors around it. He was standing at the second holiest place of the Silver Hand, the domain of many heroes of the past. No matter what, he wanted to be worthy of the honor of trying to revive their withered order. His voice echoed through the blackened halls as he spoke to those that could soon be his followers.
"I remember the day when the Silver Hand was born. Each of us felt that something eternal and good was being born. I was ready to die for my comrades and to follow in the Lightbringer's steps. Alas, that wasn't to be. Now, I truly hope I can atone for my failures. Soldiers of Lordaeron! Make no mistake: the undead will be eradicated! Stratholme will once again be the pride of humanity! The Throne of the Menethil will be restored! This… this I wow upon the charge that was given to me so long ago." Dathrohan looked in pride as everyone present greeted his words. Whatever they would decide, the decision would echo down the ages. Isillien looked satisfied as he continued to speak.
"One of these heroes will be the one who will guide us through these dark ages, our Grand Crusader. Only the Light will be your witness as you decide this. You are all former knights or clerics of the Silver Hand. I trust in your judgement. Do as you see fit." The grey-robed priest then waved and four of his assistants arrived to distribute a piece of paper to every one of the few hundred knights who were assembled. Nearly every attendee wrote his or her nominee immediately, their preferred Grand Crusader chosen in advance. Dathrohan, due to his respect and confidence in him, voted for Mograine, his nearest competitor.
In mere moments, all of the papers were once again collected. What followed was long moments of waiting as Isillien's followers counted the votes in the surrounding rooms. The atmosphere was extremely expectant and revering. A cloud of hope floated in the room. Each and every one of them believed from the bottoms of their hearts that on this day, the Light's judgement would begin to push the endless undead hordes back. The silent mutterings stopped completely when they saw Isillien once again return to the Hall. His expression was calm and optimistic as he once again stood in the back of the hall. Dathrohan looked at him in respect. The priest had been the one who had recruited most of those present today to their cause and united the warring knight lords under one banner. There was no one better suited to announce this decision than him.
"My dear friends and comrades, we have a Grand Crusader! The result was surprisingly close but it was decisive. All hail Grand Crusader Saidan Dathrohan!"
Dathrohan felt stunned by the revelation even if he had tried to prepare for it in his mind. He was the last hope of his people and his homeland. He didn't feel like he was ready but… who else was?
Uther, Gavinrad… please help me in this task. There is no one else… I have to be ready for this charge! For your memory, for king Terenas… for the Light, pray that I will be worthy of this trust!.
The knight rose up and started to walk towards Isillien. He would have to unite all of the newly-born order under his leadership. His steps were firm and his expression noble and dedicated even if his mind was a flurry of different doubts and emotions but he knew he was up to the task. He had to. Isillien gave way for his Grand Crusader who took a moment to revel in the sight of his followers and the majesty of the castle. This was his charge and he was going to see it to the end.
"Our blessed founder Faol knew that only by forming a prestigious, pure Order could we keep the darkness at bay. I was there to witness the rise of such a power and for decades we safeguarded the lands of Lordaeron. However, eventually darkness crept into our sacred circle of trusted knights and corroded Faol and Uther's dream from within. This will not happen again!"
Dathrohan could see Mograine looking at him in deep expectation and revere. The two paladins had known each other for years and fought many times together. It was clear that he would stand by his side whatever would happen in the following weeks. Abbendis' expression was more contained but none in the room seemed to disapprove his election.
"You are the best Lordaeron has left. You are its defenders, its last leaders and the last beacons of hope of our lost home. If you will not lead our people back to Light, no one will. Whatever comes to pass, remember that you are the last and the best we have. Because of this, I'll entrust some of you with great responsibility today. Ashbringer, move forward!" The aging paladin walked towards Dathrohan and bowed before him. His voice was deep and honoring as he spoke.
"My blade and guidance are yours, Grand Crusader. Ask your bidding and I will do it." It was shocking for the younger paladin to see his old friend bow so readily before him. He didn't feel like he deserved it: the Ashbringer had saved him more times than he could remember. Dathrohan drew his sword and raised it into the air before lowering his arm.
"Alexandros Mograine, I know the extent of your valor and honor. Your resolve is second to none and you are an inspiration to anyone willing to follow the path of anything that is holy. You will walk as my second-in-command, as the Highlord of our new Crusade." The older paladin rose and spoke briefly before moving to his leader's side.
"Our foes will fall before us. I thank you for this charge, Grand Crusader." Dathrohan nodded to him in approval and then spoke for the second time.
"General Abbendis, I name you the High General of the Crusade and its face to our people! You have always defended the poor and your name has echoed long in the mouths of the common people. You are the most important remnant of the armies of Lordaeron and as thus, the righteous leader of our armies." The General walked to him and was ready to speak when the Grand Crusader interrupted him.
"And the honored priest Isillien will serve as the spiritual heart of the Crusade. You were the one who kept the spark of hope alive in each of us during our darkest hours. You were the one who united all of us here today. From now on, your voice will be the voice of Light itself, Grand Inquisitor." The priest had already resigned to the thought that his part in today's ceremony was over. He had done the things he was credited for but never would have he expected such a senior post for a non-knight like himself. Isillien walked to Abbendis' side and when all of his three aides stood by his side, Dathrohan once again spoke.
"Under our command, the tremendous task that lies before us can begin. Our first mission is to spread the flag of our Crusade among those who still wish to keep the shadow at bay. The city of Tyr's Hand , Light's Hope and the Monastery of Righteousness still stand, abandoned by the lack of unity among the remnants of this land. Those are the places we have to make join our cause. We must also save the villages still untainted by the undead and only then can we push them back. The path will be long and most of us will not see its completion. I am ready to accept that. I will lay down my life if that means that a step towards our goal can be achieved! Will you follow us to the depths of madness and despair?" Dathrohan's voice intensified with each word and at the end of his speech he was trembling and his words rang through the sacred halls of the fortress. Each and every one of his followers rose up and a chorus of shouts filled the room. the Grand Crusader then rose his sword into the air and called in a thundering voice.
"Then it'll happen! On this day, our march into the rest of Stratholme and to Lordaeron city will begin! The cursed undead will be eradicated! This I wow as your Grand Crusader! Today, the Scarlet Crusade is born!" Dathrohan felt rays of light penetrating the blackened hall smile upon him as he saw the response his speech roused among his followers. He was about to begin relaying his first orders when he felt a familiar voice speak to him from next to.
"It'll be a long and rough battle but we'll make it happen as Anduin and Uther did. I'll look forward to our next battle together, Saidan." Alexandros looked at his old comrade as he ended his speech. The older paladin's voice was filled with hope and he took everything out of the moment. Saidan turned to him and smiled at his old friend.
"Likewise. If the orcs can be beaten, so can the Scourge. We'll see this through together."
