(AN: This might just be the last chapter of this story. Here we have our heroes finally uncover some remnant of truth regarding the Pilgrim's Road and the Light, as was promised in the story's description.)

Tyr's Guard

It was getting on to evening when Abner Varlaine returned to the little group. They had remained in the mountains at the exact same path where he had left them. They were quite relieved and encouraged by his return, but no less so by the horses and supplies that he had brought. As it was getting on to evening, they decided that they would make their camp and be ready to travel by morning: the sixth day of their venture would come to a close. Nora told him that, a little down the right-hand path, there was a hollow in the hills where they would be able to rest away from unfriendly eyes. He agreed to this, and so they went thither. At the side of the cliffs they found that the hollow was in fact a cave, which went down into the earth the farther in they went.

They camped at the mouth of the cave, with the horses just outside and one keeping watch on the back passage of the cave. Despite protests from Varlaine, Nora insisted that they light a fire, and Marion got to work on it right away.

"I'd have thought something would've happened when I came back," Abner said to Nora.

"Like what?" she asked.

"I don't know," he returned. "Maybe that you all had been attacked, or that the Princess had escaped or something."

"We were all pretty shaken up from yesterday's battle," Nora said. "She hasn't made any attempt to leave yet, thank the Light."

After the fire was lit, they prepared a meager rationing of their food: quite small, but it was a feast after the many days in the wilds and the fierce battle. As they thus ate, Abner told the others about what had happened in Hearthglen and what he had heard.

"We should'ae gone back there," Marion stated. "Th' battle's over there, and that's where she should be." Setheras said nothing.

"Nothing good will come of it," Agnette added.

"Has the Light shown you this?" Nora inquired.

Agnette nodded. "Yes. Those who call themselves the faithful have given the reins of power into the hands of heathens and traitors."

"The Brotherhood of the Light?" Abner asked.

"The days of the Scarlet Crusade are numbered," she said.

"Then what do we do?" Abner asked.

"We keep to our path," said the Scarlet Prophet. "All will be made clear once we reach the end of the Pilgrim's Road."

"What about Abbendis?" Abner queried. "If she's going north to fight the undead, we should go with her."

"Aye," Marion stated. "Now that's what I like t' hear."

"Maybe if I could still fight," Setheras grumbled.

"I'm not going into any battle," Calia said at last, her voice quivering and uncertain.

"Your Majesty?" Abner asked.

"So much death," Calia muttered. "When will it end?"

"Perhaps there is no end," Nora wondered. "As long as there are those in this world who wish to destroy rather than live in peace. But we cannot stop the wheel of fate, no matter how hard we may try: we're only simple soldiers and clerics, and our hands are not big enough to take hold of the wheel. We must only do what we can for however long we have to live in this world."

"If the Alliance is going north as well," Calia stated. "Perhaps you should think about returning to them. Maybe Bolvar Fordragon and this King Wrynn will pardon you where I cannot, now that the Scarlet Crusade is dead."

"The Crusade isn't dead," Abner replied.

"Your monastery is lost, and your holdings in the east will soon be lost, so you say," Calia said. "If Tyr's Hand falls, how soon will it be until Hearthglen is lost?"

"All the more reason to continue on the Pilgrim's Road," Nora stated. "We may yet have the chance to go north and join our brothers, or the Alliance, at the end of our road. If this legend is true, then the Pilgrim's Road will lead us near Stratholme..."

"I told you this before," Agnette firmly said. "We cannot go to Stratholme!"

"Not to Stratholme proper," Nora returned. "Only the northern outskirts. It's a port-city, and there should be ships on the northern edge of the city, near the coast. Perhaps soldiers of the Scarlet Bastion might help us take that ship north. If we have whatever's at the end of the Pilgrim's Road, we can rebuild the Scarlet Crusade."

"You grasp at straws, looking for hope where there is none," Calia said.

"Hope will not die while there is even one of us left alive," Nora stated. She then turned to Abner and smiled. "We're both in agreement on that."

"You've got that right, sister."

Calia made no further objections but kept to herself again. Marion took the first watch while Abner presented to Nora the book he had been given by the Hearthglen mayor.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a record of all those who have ruled Hearthglen since its founding," Abner replied. "Thought it might provide some insight on that assassin."

"She really got to you, didn't she?" Nora asked.

"No," Abner groaned. "It did not get to me. It bore the seal of the House of Mardenholde, so I want to know more about it and how it is tied to Hearthglen."

Nora opened the book and, with the light of their camp-fire, began to examine it.

"This looks to be a record of all of the nobility of Hearthglen," she said. "It has listed every house that has ever owned Hearthglen in recorded history: the last entry is of the Fordring line." She thumbed through the pages. "Each house has a family tree that goes back several generations. There must be centuries worth of history in this heraldry ledger!" She smiled. "Oh, if our situation wasn't desperate, I'd be giddy with delight!"

"I thought your study was ancient human history," Abner remarked, smirking at her excitement.

"It is, but this is no mean trove of knowledge either!" Nora exclaimed, trying not to make too much noise. With hands moving deftly across the pages, she began her search for the earliest entry. There were quite a few pages until she found what she was looking for.

"Here it is!" she said. "The House of Mardenholde. Their family established the ruling principality here in the Northern Boroughs approximately fifteen hundred years after the building of Thoradin's Wall."

"How long ago was that?" Abner asked.

"Thirteen hundred years ago," she answered. "Wow, this is exactly where I need to be! It will take me a while to get to anything recent." She began thumbing through the pages, muttering to herself. "The House of Mardenholde seems to have lost and gained the ruling of Hearthglen for centuries. There's a particularly bloody account here, about two hundred and fifty years ago, during the Dwarves' War of the Three Hammers. Tommen Mardenholde attempted to usurp the throne of Hearthglen from his brother Abben. He's called here 'Tommen the Usurper.' Apparently during this uprising, many of the house of Mardenholde were killed: some of them no older than children!"

"Quite the charmer," Abner scoffed.

"Apparently it got so bad," Nora continued. "That the King of Lordaeron had to step in to stop the war from spreading; Tommen was forced to renounce his claim on the fief of Hearthglen. He must have lost his nobility, the rest of the names after him have no crowns around their names. Here's the last entry of all. A man by the name of Lucas Mardenholde; it says here he was a merchant in the city of Andorhal. The House of Mardenholde didn't go far from Hearthglen, even after they lost it, it seems." Abner chuckled. Suddenly Nora went silent: Abner looked over and saw her staring agape at the book.

"What is it?" he asked. "Did you find something?"

"The last entry in here looks rather recent," Nora said, almost in a breathy whisper. "It reads: 'Lucas married a commoner by the name of Hannah Farmer, who relocated to Andorhal from the Hillsbrad region in the south. Their whereabouts are unknown, although it is strongly believed that they both died of the plague that originated in Andorhal at the start of the Third War.' There is nothing more written here." She closed the book.

"I don't think that seal was stolen," Nora stated. "She said that it was given to her by her husband when I compelled her to tell the truth. I think our little assassin might be this Hannah Farmer character. I'm guessing she changed her name to Mardenholde after she was married."

"And what does that matter?" Abner asked. "It's undead: whatever it was in life, it's not that anymore."

"Do you remember how unhinged she got when you took the seal from her?" Nora asked. "Whatever it was, it was important to her. Perhaps we can use this knowledge about her past against her?"

"How?" Abner asked.

"If she's so easily riled up by the pilfering of a seal," Nora said. "Imagine what she'd do if we knew more about her?"

"It might try to kill us again," Abner sighed.

"She's be acting irrationally," Nora cleverly added. "And while I don't know too much about battle, from what I hear, clear-thinking always wins over a raving madman...or woman. Don't you agree?"

"Ah, I see what you're getting at," Abner smiled. "Anger it; it'll make a mistake, then it'll be easier to kill."

"Exactly," Nora nodded. "And you will be avenged for Baris and Captain Ashton."

"Yes," Abner nodded. He then dismissed himself as he sought out a place to sleep. It would be the first time in almost the entire week when he could get more than a few hours of sleep. He relished the opportunity.

The sun was hidden behind the hills in the east. Shadows lay here in the hollows, but far in the west the gold of dawn shone upon the higher mountains. Marion roused the group one by one, then they went about eating their morning rations. Then, sore and stiff, they prepared to go on their way. Unfortunately, they ran into a bit of a problem. The right-hand path, the path that they were to take for the Pilgrim's Road, seemed to end. They looked this way and that but saw no foot-path or goat trail up into the mountains.

"Dammit," Abner groaned. "Dead end."

"Not necessarily," Nora said. "We can double-back and search the cave."

"What makes you think that's the way?" Abner asked. "It could lead into a long drop down to our deaths."

"While you were away, I found something carved in the rock just inside the cave," Nora stated. "Let me show you."

She led Abner to the mouth of the cave: it was wide enough for them to stand up in, and it seemed to remain at that height even as it descended into the darkness. But Nora Clarke wasn't leading him into the cave proper, just to the wall thereof: this wall was on the northeastern side of the cave's tunnel. She pawed about on the dirt-encrusted rock wall until she found a place that was smoothed out, as if by many hands over a great period of time.

"What am I looking at?" Abner asked.

"This smooth part," she said. "If you look carefully, there's a marking there: rather deeply cut, even the wearing of time hasn't erased it fully." She pointed to a point in the center of the smooth part of the rock. There seemed to be a crude drawing of a hand with three rays coming from it, like the rays of the sun.

"What's that?" Abner asked.

"It looks like an early depiction of the Silver Hand," Nora said. "This could be our path. Here, I'll lead the way with the Light. If I'm wrong, then I alone will be lost and you can go wherever you like: even back to Hearthglen." Abner nodded in return.

Sister Clarke relayed the plan to the others: they would be going into the cave. She would take the lead, lighting the way with her staff, and Abner would follow after her, leading one of their horses. Calia and Agnette would follow, each of them leading a horse in turn. Marion had the rear with Setheras feeling the cave wall with his right hand, ahead of the Dwarf but slower than she was. As they went, the tunnel began to slope downward: starkly but still steadily enough that they could walk without great difficulty. By and by the light of the tunnel's entrance was lost and the only light they had was from Sister Clarke's staff.

"We must be underneath th' other path," Marion stated. "Goin' straight inntae th' very heart o'th' mountains."

"Then it should be according to your liking, would it not?" Setheras asked.

"Damn straight, pretty boy," Marion replied.

The tunnel continued sloping downward, steadily and without any sharp turns or twists. The stone and earth underfoot became smooth and slippery in some points, but they found carved at these points steps that were sure and substantial. The hours went by slowly, and the path under the mountains began to level out and go in a relatively straight direction. Then the walls on either side vanished and they found themselves in a wide cavern with a shallow roof. None of them had any idea where they were or how far they had come. Marion, however, was distinctly aware of direction, even this far beneath the earth. As the path leveled off, she spoke up from the back of the company, leading Setheras by the hand after the walls ceased.

"Iff'n I'm nae outta me reckonin'," she said. "We must'ae come past Hearthglen, goin' roughly east an' north."

"Who could have built this path?" Abner asked.

"Th' way down 'ere looked mannish enough," Marion stated. "But 'ere, it looks like th' remnants o'an ol' cave system."

"How long have we been walking?" Setheras asked.

"I can't say," Nora answered. "If we could see the sun, we might know how long we've been underground."

They continued walking along this wide cavern. Presently the light of Sister Clarke's staff shone on a large mass of rock that seemed to have come colliding down and sealed off the end of the tunnel. They despaired momentarily until they saw that a path had been carved into the rock-mass: it was much narrower and smaller than before, such that the horses would have to lean their heads down to pass through. Before entering, they paused to decide whether to go through or go back.

"What do you suppose happened here?" Abner asked.

"Cave in," Marion replied. "Somethin' o great weight caused th' cave t' collapse."

Nora paused, holding up her staff this way and that. Off to the right there was another path that went upward.

"This looks promising!" she said.

"We can't go that way," Agnette stated.

"Why not?" Nora asked, turning to the Scarlet Prophet. "The horses can't fit through that tunnel. This other path might be easier for us." She turned back to it. "Looks a little narrow, but at least it's a proper path."

"This cave-in is ancient," Agnette said. "A great foundation was laid above it long ago, which brought down the cave upon itself. That foundation was the outer walls of the city of Stratholme."

"So how does that help us?" Nora asked. "And why does it mean we can't take the other path?"

"Ye might'ae be book-smart, sister," Marion interjected. "But ye've nae sense about minin'. Firs' rule o' makin' a mine-shaft: always have another exit, in case o' cave-ins. If we've beneath Stratholme, then maybe that explains that second tunnel over there." She pointed towards the direction where Nora had revealed the tunnel.

"Could you be more specific for those of us who don't speak Dwarvish?" Setheras asked.

"I think I might understand," Nora said. "The Kingdom of Stratholme was established after the time of Saint Mereldar. So whoever built this path might have had to deal with the cave-in once the foundations of Stratholme's walls brought the roof down."

"Ye catch on quick, lass," Marion stated. She then pointed left and right, and Nora shone her light thither: several stone supports stood just a few feet off from the fallen stone mass, holding up the rest of the ceiling.

"So you're saying," Abner asked. "That this second path could lead up to Stratholme?" He smiled. "Well, that's good! We can put our horses in the care of the Scarlet Enclave, maybe even tell them about what has happened."

"I'm not going to the Scarlet Enclave," Calia spoke up.

"You'll go where we take you, Your Highness," Abner stated.

"We're not going to the Scarlet Enclave," Agnette said. "No matter what happens, we must not come near to Stratholme. It would be the end of all of us."

"But we have friends there!" Abner returned. "Friends who can help us!"

"They are lost to us," Agnette grimly answered. "And if we go to them, then we shall be lost as well. Our only hope is to go forward."

"Fine," Nora said. "We go forward."

This was much easier said than done, to be sure. One by one they entered the carven tunnel that led through the collapse. It was cramped and the plodding of the horses' hooves upon the stone floor was loud and maddening in the relative silence of the cave. Here the path began to turn steadily northeast, but remained level throughout. Hours passed, and it seemed that they had always been underground. The light of Sister Clarke's staff was painful to their eyes, but it was the only thing keeping them from stumbling in the darkness. There was no getting lost, for the path continued northeast without turn or branch. Ever and anon they would hear water dropping in a pool near at hand, or feel its cold kiss upon their faces. After a time, they came to an end to the carved tunnel. Here the main path was wider than before, but now it began to steadily slope upward. Here they halted, and Nora hesitated before stepping out into the wider path.

"What's wrong?" Abner asked.

"I sense something," she said. "Something deep beneath the earth: a presence of some kind. We're very near to something old...very old..." She gasped, holding out her staff and hand into the darkness.

"What is it?" Abner asked.

"I've never felt something like this before," she said, her voice quivering. "This presence is old, and...hungry. It's so hungry! I feel like it's here, all around us, going to devour us all!"

"Control yourself!" Marion shouted.

"I feel it too," Calia moaned. "The darkness here is thick. It's oppressive."

"No!" Agnette shouted. "That's not possible! The Light has shown me otherwise!"

"What the hell is going on?" Abner asked.

"Halt in the name of the Light!"

All those in the group froze in their places at the sound of that voice: the terror that had been building among them had almost broken them, but the newcomer was the one thing they hadn't expected.

"Who are you?" Abner asked. "Where are you?"

"Come out of that tunnel with your hands up, and nothing will happen to you," the voice commanded.

"Bullshit!" Abner retorted. "We don't have to obey you..."

"You're trapped in the tunnel," the voice said. "We know the number of your company. You can't turn around and leave before we take you. Now, come out at once. I won't say it again."

Nora was the first one to step out. As soon as she did, she let out a laugh.

"It's just a man!" she exclaimed. "There's nothing to fear."

"Bold words coming from those outnumbered," the voice said. "Now for the rest of you."

They came out of the tunnel one by one, leading the horses with them: the ascending tunnel was much wider than they had anticipated. Once they were all out of the carved tunnel, a light shone and they hid themselves from its radiance.

"What do you want?" Abner asked.

"You are not undead," the voice said. "But you aren't with us."

"The Light brought us here," Nora said. "One of us is a prophet. She said to take the Pilgrim's Road."

At this there was silence, and they could discern hushed whispers echoing around them: but the brilliant light made it so they couldn't see who was speaking. At last the first voice spoke again.

"Never before has any name outside of our order spoken of that path," he said. "How do you know of it?"

"I read it in a book once," Nora returned. "I'm a prelate of the Scarlet Crusade, and these are my bodyguards."

"Your bodyguards?" Abner asked.

"Quiet, just play along," Nora whispered, then turned back to the man. "We come in peace."

"Peace?" the voice asked. "A strange thing to hear from one of your order. I heard that they hated all outsiders."

"We seek to know what's at the end of the Pilgrim's Road," Nora said. "As for what you've heard, perhaps I can explain..."

"There are some who say that your order is a perversion of the Holy Light," the man said.

"A matter of debate, since they cannot name one perverted thing we have done," Nora retorted. "Our only sins seem to be that we have fought for the restoration of Lordaeron with all fervor, and that we reject the undead as a people." There was silence. At last, Nora spoke again. "I believe that you are of the Light, and that you are not our enemies. If not, you would have stricken us down as soon as you saw us. If we are indeed all brothers and sisters here, bound in the Light, can we not be out of this place at once?"

"Why?" asked the man. "Does this cavern make you afraid? That is well, for there is a great evil hidden deep beneath the earth. One that my order has fought for centuries beyond count."

"Perhaps this isn't the best place to talk about this matter?" Nora asked. "Let us out of here, and we'll come with you in peace."

The Light subsided and they could see an old man, dark of skin and with silver hair and beard: most of his hair had receded from his head, clinging stubbornly to the back and about his ears.

"My name is Travard," he said. "Come, Scarlet Crusaders, and bask in the Light."

They followed the strange man they had met up the path that steadily led upward. About them they saw the glowing balls of light from others who, like Sister Clarke, held aloft the Light to illuminate their path. They couldn't see their faces, for they were all hooded and robed. But the path continued and there was no sign of day anywhere. At last the path ended and they could see the faint light of torches here and there in the distance: they were outside again, but the sight of the moons in the sky indicated that it was night-time. They had spent all day underneath the ground.

The man named Travard led them to what appeared to be a very old stone chapel, only two stories tall, with a large dome instead of a spire. Inside it was well illuminated, and they could see each other inside. As soon as Travard saw Setheras, he told one of his men to send for a healer, then ordered the others to bring chairs for his guests.

"We're your guests?" Nora asked. "I thought we were your prisoners."

"That remains to be seen," Travard said. "Now, then, I assume you have many questions."

"Yes," Nora said. "What is this place?"

"I'm sure you know a temple when you see one?" Travard asked.

"Well, yes," she said. "But where are we?"

"Haven't you guessed?" he asked.

"Northeron?" she asked. "This is Northeron?"

"The southwestern corner of it," Travard replied. "It extends several miles northeast, to the borders of Quel'lithien and that land that Elves now call the Ghostlands. We are cut off from the rest of the world by the high mountains on all sides. The only way in or out of this land is by the tunnel you've come, as well as by sea."

"Then what is the Pilgrim's Road?" Nora asked.

"We are at its destination," Travard said. "This chapel marks the spot where Saint Mereldar had her visions of the Light."

"And what part do you play in all of this?" she asked.

"We are part of a secret society," Travard began. "Our order has guarded the northern lands for centuries."

"You did a piss-poor job of it during the Third War!" Abner interjected.

"On the contrary," Travard said. "We lost many of our order during that great war, fighting the Scourge and their demonic masters. We also took part in the Second War, fighting among the ranks of the Knights of the Silver Hand against the Horde."

"If you've been so active, why has no one ever heard of you?" Abner asked.

"You didn't hear that they're a 'secret' order?" Setheras retorted.

"But if they're so 'secret'," Abner retorted. "Why are they sharing so much with us now?"

"We have shared very little with you," Travard returned. "But, perhaps, the time for secrecy may soon be coming to an end. The Lich King has awoken from his long slumber in Northrend, and reaches out with his dark arm to snuff out the flame of life. We may yet join the fight again."

"So what's here, then?" Nora asked. "I mean, why did the Light lead us here? What do you have that would help the Scarlet Crusade?"

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for your order, sister," Travard sighed.

"Nothing you can do, or nothing you will do?" she returned.

"Your greatest enemy is not the undead, but the living," Travard began. "The Brotherhood of the Light is much more dangerous than any of you realize." Abner noticed that Travard looked at him as he spoke. "Despite their name, they are more of the darkness than the Light. Indeed, they have used the darkness that has overcome your order to their advantage. Even now, they make their plans to eradicate your order from the face of Azeroth."

Nora said nothing, but seemed to step back, a look of confusion upon her face. Agnette and Calia stepped forward.

"Good Travard," Agnette said. "The Light called us here. We have been pursued by the undead for many miles. Could we not have sanctuary in this place?"

Travard grimaced. "Are you that prophet she spoke of?"

"I am the prophet."

Travard stroked his beard pensively. "It's not our custom to let those outside of our order remain with us and discover our secrets."

"We won't look into your secrets," Agnette began, but Travard held up his hand.

"You have already seen part of those things," he said. "It is the way of darkness that, once it has been tasted, it will seduce you to have more." He sighed. "I will let you spend the night here. In the morning, I will have my men ferry you to the borders of Stratholme on the coast. You can rejoin your order from there."

"No!" Agnette begged. "We cannot go to Stratholme! We will be consumed!"

At this, Travard halted, his eyes wide with surprise. He took Agnette aside and spoke with her in private. Meanwhile, Abner saw Nora standing by herself on the side of the great dome of the chapel. As he walked over to her, he noticed that she was dabbing at her eyes with her gloved hands.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"There's nothing here," she answered. "No weapon, nothing to help the Scarlet Crusade. What was the point of being led here, if not to help our order?"

"There's not nothing," Abner returned. "There's still..." But at that moment, he was interrupted as Travard returned with Agnette.

"Show me the crown," he said.

"What crown?" Nora asked, looking up from where she sulked.

"I know that you have it," he stated. "Let me see it."

"I told him about our mission," Agnette said. "He needs to know."

Slowly and reluctantly, Sister Clarke removed the satchel from her shoulder and handed it to Abner. She looked at him, and then looked at the man, indicating that he should give the crown to him. Abner rolled his eyes: why she couldn't do it herself was beyond him. Yet even as he walked over to Travard, it came into his mind that he was giving the sacrifice of Captain Ashton and Baris into the hands of a stranger. He froze and refused to move. Agnette walked over to him and, opening the satchel, removed the crown. Travard gasped when he saw it.

"So it's true," he said. "It has been found!" Agnette returned the crown to its place, then sealed it up and walked back over to the group. At this point, those who Travard had sent before appeared behind them. He had the chairs set up, and then walked over to Setheras.

"These men will help ease your suffering," he said. "They mean you no harm."

"Go on," Abner said. "I'll fill you in later."

"I'd rather not be parted from them," Setheras stated. "They may be human, but I've fought and bled with them."

"I'll come with ye, pretty boy," Marion said. Then two of them then left the group and followed the healers out of the temple. Once they had left, Travard dismissed the others and told them to close the doors behind them. The doors were sealed and then he spoke.

"We are not ignorant to what has been happening in the world outside Northeron," Travard stated. "On the contrary, we have kept a keen eye on your order."

"Why?" Nora asked.

"Because the Scarlet Crusade was the surest way of protecting this land from darker forces," Travard replied. "And keeping the secrets of this land safe."

"What secrets?" she asked again.

"Many secrets," he said. "About this place, about Tirisfal, and...other things."

"And just what kind of secrets are those?" Abner asked. "Come to think of it, just before you showed up, some kind of madness took our group. I've only ever seen that kind of madness once before."

"Where?"

"In a forest in the mountains west of the Capital, in Tirisfal," Abner said. "So maybe you might want to tell us a bit about that, would you?"

"It seems you've already seen the darkness before you came here," Travard said grimly. "No wonder it spoke to you so easily."

"What darkness?" Abner asked.

Travard sighed. "What I am about to tell you must not leave the confines of this temple: is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes," they said one after another.

"What do you know about Tyr?" he asked.

"Not much," Nora said. "He was an ancient god of humanity, one that the Silver Hand invoked when they battled the Horde during the Second War."

"That is only half-true," Travard began. "We here have kept the knowledge of Tyr alive for thousands of years."

"Wait, thousands of years?" Nora asked. "I thought the Pilgrim's Road came from the time of Thoradin and Mereldar."

"The Pilgrim's Road was made at that time, this is true," Travard said. "But our order has existed since before that time; before the time of men, when giants ruled the earth. You see, Tyr was the closest thing our people have known to a god, and so, naturally, became venerated as one. He was a Titan, one of the powerful beings that brought order and life to this world long before recorded history. Your Dwarf will likely know more about them, as her race has had a peculiar interest in the Titans recently. But long ago, they came to this world to bring order to chaos. They encountered the Black Empire, a forgotten civilization of hostile elemental beings and unspeakable horrors whose very names brought terror to the hearts of those who heard them.

"A horrible war was fought, and in the end, the Titans prevailed and banished the masters of the Black Empire deep beneath the earth, where they have been forgotten by all mortal races: only the bestial things that dwell within the earth and hear their whispers have any recollection of them. But there was treachery, as one of the Titans had been corrupted by the masters of the Black Empire, and turned on his compatriots. Only Tyr knew the truth, and so the traitor Loken sent hideous creatures to destroy him and so keep the truth lost forever. They fought for six days and nights in what is now called Tirisfal Glades, until at last Tyr unleashed his full power and destroyed the creature that fought him: alas, it was too much and Tyr fell. The giants who saw this battle revered Tyr and buried him and his foe beneath a lake in Tirisfal Glades, which bears his name to this very day. In time, the giants died out and those who took up their ceaseless guard of the Tomb of Tyr were only men. That is who we are: the Tyr's Guard."

Nora was enthralled by what was said, and listened intently. Abner, Agnette and Calia listened, but only passively. Varlaine knew little of the past of his own people, and cared about it only insomuch as it could be used to defend his actions and those of the Scarlet Crusade against the undead and the Horde.

"And what does this have to do with the Pilgrim's Road, or the child of the Light?" Nora asked.

Travard looked at her suspiciously. "Where did you hear that?"

"In a book," she replied. "It was said that itinerant priests came to the end of the Pilgrim's Road, called by something called the child of the Light. What is that?"

"There is a record of ancient priests joining our order," Travard said. "But the child of the Light is something else entirely. It is part of the reason we have our order headquartered here rather than in Tirisfal."

"Why is that?" Nora asked.

"The hideous monsters that Tyr defeated left their imprint on these parts," Travard said. "Dark shadows that lurk in the deep places of the world, as I told you before. That was the secret that Mereldar discovered here, and what the priests found at the end of the Pilgrim's Road."

"What secret is that?" Nora asked eagerly.

"That the Light is the only thing that can hold back the darkness," he said. "That thing that you seek, the child of the Light, lies here within the chapel. But it cannot leave here."

"Why not?" Nora asked.

"It's a piece of something," Travard said. "Something much older than Mereldar, or the legend of Tyr. What exactly it is, I cannot guess. But its power has been keeping the darkness beneath the earth at bay. Without it, the whole of Lordaeron may fall into the abyss of madness and despair."

"Lordaeron is no more," Calia said. "There's nothing left of it. What good has it been if we've lost?"

Travard stood up. "You will follow me, all of you."

He led them to an alcove on the side of the domed temple. Here there was a narrow tunnel that led to a second floor beneath the main level of the chapel. It was dimly lit, save by a few torches here and there. Travard took one of the torches and showed them a pedestal in the center of the underground chamber, right below the very center of the domed chapel above.

"You wish to see the child of the Light?" he asked. "Come and see."

He held the torch over the pedestal, revealing a plain wooden box sitting upon a red velvet cloth upon the pedestal. Nora was the first one to step forward, slowly but surely, and approached the box. She reached out and touched the box; as she did, her face lit up and tears welled in her eyes.

"What's inside?" she asked, breathing. "It's...so beautiful."

Agnette was the second one who dared to approach the box, though her hand shook as she did. She placed her hand next to Nora's, and fell silent, her lips moving soundlessly. Calia, intrigued by what she had seen, came as well. When she touched the box, her eyes opened in surprise.

"I...I feel..." she muttered. "...hope."

Abner scoffed. "What, are you all really getting shook up over a box?"

"Abner, come!" Nora begged. "Place your hand on the box. You'll see."

"No thank you," he dismissed. "I can see it perfectly fine where I am."

"Do you not believe in the Light?" Travard asked.

"I've seen too much hell in this world to believe in anything," Abner replied.

Travard's countenance fell. "Then you are no different than the Brotherhood of the Light: doing what you must out of necessity, with no thought for your soul."

"It's not just the things I've seen," Abner said. "It's also the things I've done myself. If I have a soul, it is damned. There's no power that can save me."

"You are wrong, my friend," Travard said. "Come and see. Be free of your burden."

"My burden gives me strength," Abner returned. "And I'll need that strength to defeat the Scourge."

"Abner, don't be a fool!" Nora said, pulling her hand away from the box to confront him. "How can you knowingly choose to not be free of this?" He said nothing. "What, you always have some blasphemous comeback, why not now? You don't want to believe the truth, even when you see it with your own eyes?"

"What truth?" he retorted. "A box that makes you all shit your pants?"

"You don't understand," Nora shook her head.

"I don't need to understand!" Abner retorted. "I understand enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find my companions." He turned about and left them in the hall. His heart yearned for him to go back, to at least see what had brought such a change over them. But he refused, choosing the darkness instead.

It didn't take long for him to find the medical tent, even in the darkness of night. He could discern Marion's voice talking to someone from somewhere, and he followed the sound. At the tent he saw the Dwarf sitting next to Setheras, who was being tended to by several priests.

"Ay, big man!" she greeted. "Ye certainly took yer time!"

"Wanted to find you two," he said. "Tomorrow, after they take us to Stratholme, we're taking the ship north. If memory serves, there's a port kept by the Crusaders from the Scarlet Enclave. We'll meet up with Abbendis and the others there and continue our war against the undead Scourge."

"Damn straight," Marion smiled. "Now then, ye said ye'd fill us in on what that fella said to ye?"

"Nothing important," Abner returned. "Just some myth about giants and monsters."

Several minutes passed and the ladies returned shortly. Agnette told them that Travard had prepared lodging for them and their horses for the night. They would lead them there shortly, where they would spend the night in peace before leaving the next day.

"At least something good's come out of this," Abner said.

Setheras seemed to be doing well: his wounds had been healed, though his eyes could not be restored. He seemed less agitated than usual, and didn't hurl insults at his companions. After a while, they all retired to the place prepared for them that night: Setheras, having been healed, slept with them as well. While they were sleeping, Nora approached Abner, who seemed restless as usual.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Yes," Abner said. "I know now what I have to do. Our path lies north, to face the undead on the Roof of the World."

"You've decided this?" she asked.

"While you three were gushing over that box," Abner retorted. "Marion, Setheras, and me will go north after we leave here tomorrow."

"I'm not coming with you," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm staying here," Nora said. "So is the crown of Terenas."

"Why?"

"After you stormed off," Nora began. "I spoke to Travard about it. I asked him about what was in the box, and what kind of power it had. He reminded me that we couldn't take it with him, that it kept whatever darkness lurked beneath the earth at bay. I then asked him if it would be safe to keep the crown here, and he said yes."

"After all that we've lost," Abner sighed. "All that we've fought for, you're just giving up the crown again?"

"I'm not giving it up," she said. "I'm staying here with it. This place, it's strong with the Light. We decided to stay here and learn what the Tyr's Guard can tell us about the Holy Light. There's centuries of knowledge in this serene place, and we intend to learn it."

"We?"

"Agnette and Calia," Nora replied. "They're staying too."

"Hmph," Abner scoffed. "Must have been one fine box."

"It wasn't the box that moved us!" Nora retorted. "It was what was inside the box."

"And what was that?"

"Something..." she said slowly. "Something pure. When I touched the box, I felt it. It filled me with hope beyond measure. I knew then and there that even if we lost, even if the Scarlet Crusade were destroyed, the Light hadn't forsaken us. That's why I wept, hunter."

"Hmm," Abner sighed. "I only know that I have a war to fight against the undead. My hunt leads north."

With that, they said nothing else. They had chosen and the tides of fate were about to push them away again. For Abner, he had come a long way from hunting undead in the forests of Lordaeron. But for him, the hunt was not over: it would never be over, until all the undead in Azeroth were no more. As for Sister Nora Clarke, the search for answers had left many more questions in its wake.

"I'll come back," he said, as he made his way to his bed. The night they had shared together remained in his heart, and he vowed that he would see her again, if he survived the expedition north.

"Light be with you, Abner Varlaine," Nora bade him, and then went to sleep.

(AN: On that, this story has come to an end. I left some details vague, although it can be guessed as to what they might be. I might be willing to let you know if you ask nicely.)

(I have decided that the next story in my Warcraft cycle will be set during Wrath of the Lich King. This will introduce some of our Horde characters as well as the continuation of the story of these characters. But, unlike my strangely popular fic The Dragonborn and the Lioness [i'm still baffled whenever i see someone favorite that story, considering the massive amounts of mistakes i made in that story], I won't be doing another HUGE story. Instead, it will be released in three "mid-to-large" volumes: the first will feature the events from Borean Tundra to the Wrathgate, the second will focus almost exclusively on the events of Ulduar, with the third featuring the Argent Tournament and the fall of the Lich King.)