A Traitor's Due
The last sounds of the battle still raged around him as Eneath looked at the moving ceremony in the center of the city. All his and his comrades' sacrifices had yielded fruit as they had given their own blood to vanquish the hordes of acolytes and demons in the buildings. The moment he felt the terrifying spell being vanquished was one of the sweetest ones he could remember, even if it had been bought at the cost of his comrades' lives. The young man still didn't know how heavy their casualties had been but he would learn it in due time. For now, however, it was time to revel in the glory of their victory as there wouldn't be a long time until the offensive would begin pouring ever further into the north, to the once-green woodlands around Stratholme. However, just as he was about to join his comrades in their celebrations, he saw someone quickly appearing from the crowd. It was his uncle and at least he hadn't sustained any serious injuries.
"Hail, Eneath! I'm glad to see you made it through all of this. It was quite a fight." The older paladin said as he reached his nephew who looked at him in similar relief. The thrill of the battle still lingered in both of them but Eneath could see some kind of change in his uncle. He seemed less tense and he seemed to have regained at least a part of his earlier composure. Eneath could only guess his reasons but at least the change was in the right direction. He didn't really care for the reasons, though.
"It was. For a time I thought I wouldn't survive but thank the Light I was wrong. This is an amazing day uncle. I'm happy to be here now." Eneath said as he looked at the, town around him, already imagining it rebuild to serve as a new stronghold of the Crusade. For Osran, however, that prospect was even more precious as he had seen the town as it used to be and for the confirmation that his path had been the right one. Even if his situation was still a precarious one, the knight had received the courage to face it again.
"Likewise, nephew. I've had a rough time lately but this day makes up for all that. Corin's Crossing was a beautiful city in its day but this was only the first step of our campaign. These are the days of our glory, Eneath. If we are victorious, songs will be sung about our Crusade for centuries. We will lose more comrades but they will still guide us through the Light's grace. I'm honored to share these times with you." Osran said as his nephew's presence made him feel like himself again. Even if his incidents with Valdemar and Zverenhoff still weighed on his mind, he felt more relieved than at any time since before his journey to Scarlet Monastery. Eneath returned his uncle's smile, understanding what he meant. He was too young to care about his legacy just yet but he understood the older paladin's sentiment fully.
"So am I. We'll celebrate in Stratholme before long and then we can finally return home. At… at least we can begin restoring at our family from a clean table." Eneath said as he realized that all other members of his family were gone, save for Osran's mother. Despite that, the name of the Lowriver would once again stand as the pride of reborn Northdale. He was sure about that. Osran was about to answer when he heard another call from behind him.
"Crusader Lowriver. You are needed urgently!" The man yelled as he rushed towards Osran who was far from amused by this interruption. He exchanged glances with Eneath before he turned to look at the newcomer. The knight answered with a grim voice.
"What is it? Who needs my help this time?" He sounded impatient but the previous desperate, weary voice was gone. The rather long and heavily built courier looked at the equally long paladin and his voice was rather humble as he answered.
"I cannot tell the reason but go to the town hall. You should learn more there." He said to Osran who shrugged slightly, knowing that this "invitation" would most likely concern his duties in the Crimson Legion. He turned around and looked at Eneath who suspected the very same thing.
"I'm sorry, Eneath. I hope we'll see again before we march north by the Menethil road. Be safe." And after those words, he walked beside the courier, heading towards the town hall which, if he remembered correct, would lie only a few streets from his current position.
The building was just as badly damaged and gloomy as any house in the city. However, unlike most of the buildings, the town hall was built of stone and the pungent smell of mildew glowed with its absence. On a side note, the door was still in its place and it creaked loudly as Osran stepped into the house. It didn't take long for him to see something that immediately stunned him. Near the opposing wall of the room stood a familiar-looking priest and Landgren, the latter's sword hanging over some poor man who was on his knees. However, the situation grew more concerning after Osran recognized the prisoner, He quickly turned to the other priest and after a moment, he remembered who he was. He was Valroth, the priest who he had used to interrogate Thalnos and Doan back at the Monastery. What was he doing here and what was wrong with Iren?
"What is going on here? Why is the cadet tied up like this? Speak!" The paladin said as he looked Valroth starting to walk towards him, his face bearing a somewhat threatening expression.
"I was sent here to reinforce the sway the Legion has on this army and I am not exactly impressed, Lowriver. This cadet, who I heard trained under your supervision, has been found dealing with one of the Cult's leading necromancers under our very noses." Landgren said in an uneasy voice, prompting Osran to cast a disturbed glance at Iren who carefully turned to look at his former trainer. Osran quickly walked towards him, clearly disappointed by this development but no look of compassion or regret could be read from his face. He walked near Iren and looked down at him in condemnation and growing outrage.
"Is it true, Highfield? Have you done the worst crime any human can do? Have you given up your life and dignity to surrender yourself to the Lich King's service?" The paladin asked, not willing to believe the clerics' words as he had seen Landgren helping Abbendis in wiping out Valdemar's mind and despite his loathing at the priest, the paladin knew both of them served the same master now. There was no reason to get to fight with him now and to be honest, it wasn't hard for Osran to imagine Valroth being associated with Isillien in some way either.
Iren, on the other hand, fully felt the full misery of his life as he looked at Osran's condemning eyes. At this point, he couldn't have explained his motivations if his life depended on it, as it did at this moment. For some reason, the promised power and salvation from the fate that had awaited his village had clouded his vision and in the hopes of avoiding the most terrible of deaths, he had searched for the acolytes who could provide him with orders on how to achieve that. However, he had seemed to forget his goal in Tyr's Hand under Osran's guidance and his comrades' support but now his original purpose had been exposed. He had chosen wrong and due to his mental weakness, he couldn't even start walking his dark path. And now any kind of path for him would likely be cut for him forever. He quickly looked at Osran and answered to him with a pleading voice.
"It is, master Lowriver but I was ready to abandon that allegiance! I searched help from the Cult, it's true, but only to save myself from… from becoming one of those terrible creatures! You have no reason to trust me but you showed me a different way to take and I'd still like to take it! Please give me that chance! I swear you won't regret it." Iren looked at the paladin's unmoving face, not sure what to make of it. Was he only toying with him or was he actually considering his words? However, those ponderings were promptly ended by a powerful kick from Osran to his face which sent the cadet flying to the wall and the hit crushed his nose immediately. That kick was followed by a judgement spoken with a thundering voice.
"You're right, I certainly won't regret my decision! The fact that you even speak of my "guidance" only shames me and only proves that you're one of the most spineless snails I've ever met! Believing you could ever trust the Lich King will always be the last mistake a man can make in his life and you will be no different!" Osran's hand yearned for a quick retribution but Landgren and Valroth's presence bothered him somewhat. With a quick sigh, he put his sword back into the scabbard and turned to the duo and asked them impatiently.
"Why did you invite me here? You know what happens to traitors and you could have executed him completely fine without my help! And if this is another "test", I'm growing sick of them! Explain yourselves and don't even try to lie!" Osran said, gritting his teeth together. The cadet's betrayal infuriated him greatly and neither did the priests' presence ease his disappointment. To his slight relief, Landgren walked towards him and there was no sound or look of superiority on his face. Even if Osran couldn't help but feel hate towards the priest due to his past actions, he seemed like a sensible, honest man.
"This isn't a test, Osran. This traitor must know quite a bit of the ways the Scourge infiltrates our ranks and we have to learn everything we can. We two are here to do the real work but you know him better than we do. You know the best questions and if you still hold even a modicum of authority in his eyes, you might find the answers more easily than we could." The tall, black-bearded bishop said in a calm voice, earning a slight shrug from Valroth who would have preferred more direct action. Osran frowned at the answer but no matter how he looked at, Landgren's reasoning was rather sound. The knight was deeply ashamed by his failure to see Iren's true self immediately but it couldn't be helped anymore. He was about to answer when Valroth crossed his hands and spoke in a low voice.
"But we won't use the Light today, Lowriver. Its efficiency depends on the vigilance of the priest but there can already be things that can escape his notice. No, we have far better methods this time which will make our prisoners speak out of their own, free will." Valroth's lips turned into a grin which would have brought deep anxiety to Osran if the situation was less inflamed. Iren's silent whimpers could be heard from the corner of the room as Valroth pulled a long, board-like object from the next hall of the large building, the terrifying table brought to the city in a large, secretive wagon just in case something like this would happen. It had never been used before in an actual situation but there was the first time for everything. Osran quickly moved to help him but the object didn't really raise good feelings within him. The paladin's voice was wary as he asked the obvious question.
"What in the name of sanity is this thing? How does this work better than the Light?" Following this mighty victory, Osran decided to overlook these kinds of cruelties if the successes kept piling on and he absolutely felt no compassion for the young man. The priest stopped pulling the table-like structure and answered.
"Because this will leave no piece of information uncovered. There's no point telling everything about how it works as you'll see soon enough… But by all means, let us try to ask him nicely at first. Let's see how far he wishes to cooperate with us." The inquisitor said to the knight who looked at him in acceptance and moved back near the weeping man and nearly immediately, he asked the first question that had started to bother him. It wasn't perhaps the question the clerics had hoped him to ask but as a paladin, it was a one he felt obliged to present.
"I don't know what is waiting for you if you stay silent but I doubt it's something any of us want to go through even if you deserve whatever is going to happen. But to start with, how were you able to use the Light if you never held the love for our cause or to the truth inside your heart? The Light answers only to those who are pure of mind and that hardly includes you." Osran almost wished Iren to go through everything the priests had planned but he still remembered that he shouldn't want to bring pain upon others without a good reason. Iren slithered on the ground, asking the paladin in despair.
"If I speak, will you let me live? Please, master…" Another, more powerful kick hit the prisoner's head as another, disgusted hiss escaped from Osran's lips.
"Speak!" Osran's patience was being tested already and these kinds of pleadings only served to raise even more disgust within him. Iren could feel that his face was badly bruised but no matter what, he'd have to try to make this situation as easy from himself as possible. However, there was also another thing swirling in his mind. If he told everything and he was somehow allowed to live, what kind of punishment would the Scourge bring to him? The mere thought of Diesalven's powers chilled him to the bone and with a silent resolution, he decided to keep the worst revelations to himself for now.
"I… I'm not sure. I never intended to be trained as a paladin…. it just… happened. I never thought the Light would protect me against the hounds! And when you threatened me, it just came to me… all I wanted at that point was to live!" His words sounded genuine but it still made little sense to Osran. One's own selfish thoughts would never serve as an incitement for the Light's guidance yet this traitor seemed honest enough. A distinct thought woke up within him as the thought about Iren's words.
"You're lying. The only way that could be true would be if you believed in my teachings and in the hope promised by our sacred order. However, one whose soul has been tainted by the Lich King can never be pure again. The Scourge is the antithesis of all we stand for." Osran knew some paladins had told about the redemption of the soul but Osran had never believed in such things and he certainly didn't now. And as a final straw, this kind of weakling could never show the kind of strength needed to redeem one's very spirit. Likely it was just some kind of aberration in the way the Light worked and nothing more than a mistake. Iren tried to calm down but it proved to be more difficult than he had thought.
"That's all there is to it! My plans changed so many times already and I would do anything if I could take my alliance with the undead! Why did I ever seek them out…" Those words suddenly raised Osran's interest as it was the first reference to his association with Kel'Thuzad. He quickly interrupted about it and spoke in an angered voice.
"Tell me everything about it! Tell me how you joined the Scourge and who initiated you to it! Tell me how their vile recruitment works!" The paladin said, seeing that Valroth and Landgren were ready with their machine. Iren's time to speak willingly was growing short. The cadet had reached the point he feared the most: to be forced to try to sate his interrogator's curiosity and to avoid the wrath of the Scourge.
"M… my village was razed out by the undead, that much was true. But unlike I originally told, I searched for the Cult in the hopes of saving myself from the Scourge's worst curses. I… I searched for them for days and finally, they noticed me. I didn't find them myself but one acolyte once approached me when I was trying to reach Stratholme in search for them. He told me that I'd have to work in cover for them and if I was successful in sabotaging you, I'd be allowed to join them and they'd spare my life. That's all there is to it." The former cadet said, earning a swift rebuke from Osran. Even if he believed the younger man was stupid enough to search for Stratholme alone, it was impossible that Iren wouldn't know anything more about the Cult.
"You, seeking for Strathome? Do you take me for a fool?" Osran said threateningly, finally earning an answer from Valroth. All of them could see Iren was still internally conflicted about how to answer.
"There's no use questioning about those things like this. Never trust a prisoner's tale headlong, Lowriver. They become slightly honest once they're slightly persuaded at first and once you really start the questioning, you'll soon be far closer than brothers. Put him on the table and let us start!" The inquisitor said and while Iren shuddered clearly, it seemed he still feared the Scourge more than the Crusade. Osran was slowly getting over the breaches of the original code of honor and to tell the truth, he didn't pity the traitor at all. He nodded to Landgren who quickly moved to ensure the prisoner wouldn't try anything funny. The priest quickly nodded to Iren and said silently, almost with a whisper. Iren would have wanted to run but he knew he wouldn't get far. In resignation and fear, he rose up and with fearful steps, walked towards the table and under the watchful eyes of his torturers, did as was required of him. Iren gritted his teeth together in fear as his hands were locked to chains to prevent his escape later on. However, he didn't realize that the chains also served as the actual ways of torture that would be used against him. However, it begun to quickly dawn on him as Valroth slowly started to pull on the lever next to him.
Suddenly, the chains tightened and the weights under the table were pulled together at the center of the board's bottom. Quickly, Iren's hands and legs were pulled in opposite directions, causing an unimaginable pain as his muscles were pushed to their absolute limits. One inch at a time, his body stretched but just as his limbs were starting to internally rip themselves apart, Valroth released the terrifying machine, allowing Landgren to give him one more chance to cooperate.
"I ask again, Highfield. Where did you find this "acolyte", where did he take you and what was your business with the necromancer just before you were caught? The Light may still show you mercy if you choose the right thing now." The priest's beard blocked a proper line of sight between Iren and his face but the man could imagine that his expression wasn't as hateful as it could have been. Still, Iren knew feared without measure the revenge of the cold dark and in panic, looked at the building's damaged ceiling swallowed audibly but saying nothing. Landgren glanced at him in disappointment and gave one, brief gesture to Valroth.
"Do what you have to. It seems this poor fool doesn't know when to give up." To Osran's surprise, it didn't seem like Landgren enjoyed this in the least. He seemed genuinely sorry for Iren but not once did the priest question his charge. In some way, a certain respect towards him rose within Osran as it seemed like there still was goodness and valor within him. Valroth, however, didn't look disappointed at the cadet's decision in the least. He seemed almost amused by Iren's disaster as he again pulled the lever, this time further than before. Also, he put a thick billet to the young man's mouth in order to prevent him from screaming and alarming the still-celebrating crowd outside. Tears formed in the young man's eyes as the weights pulled his limbs ever further. After many, long seconds, the inevitable seemed to happen. Each one of those present cringed in disgust as a silent and ripping sound emanated from Iren's left hand and the limb was completely painted black with the internal bleeding. The sound continued as it would take some more time for the muscle to completely be ripped apart but it seemed like the traitor had had enough. At this point, the unintelligible mumbling seemed to be twisting into something that tried to be something meaningful. Determining to show him mercy, Osran pulled the billet from his lips and as soon as it had been removed, Iren screamed under his breath and begun to talk.
"Please, don't do it again! I'll talk! The acolyte who I met was one of necromancer Diesalven's apprentices who took me to his master! Diesalven often sees the value in having new servants who are still new to the ways of this conflict! He kept his secret stronghold within the ruined village of Darrowshire but I was never let inside! They only told me that more knowledge would come with success. They sent me to you and that's all I know! The Cult seems to search for new members all around the Plaguelands but I don't know their ordinary measures!" Osran approached him, knowing those words were the truth. The blackened hand turned his stomach upside down but to be fair, Iren deserved all of it. Still, there was one more to ask.
"And what was this Diesalven's business here? Why did he in essence reveal you to us?" The knight asked in a weary voice, prompting one last hesitating look from the cadet. This was the only real way he had harmed the Crusade and the secrets about the lichs' rebirth were ones he was sure weren't something the Scourge would like to spread. Valroth looked at him and as a clear threat, spoke to him in a hissing tone.
"If you won't tell, we can tear each of your limbs to pieces one by one and after that we've still got plenty of options left. Trust me, you have nothing to win here." The torturer said as Iren realized Valroth was right. He didn't have the strength to go through that pain through even once more. He looked at Valroth in fear as he started to speak, knowing he'd seal his own fate with this decision. He'd regret this moment for sure but he simply wouldn't stand by as his body was slowly shred to pieces.
"I… I delivered something to him. I… it was of Araj's, something that…" However, at that moment, something happened that none of those present could have foreseen and even less hoped. Iren's body quickly started to twitch as if it was being thrown around by some mysterious force and then it happened. The poor if misguided man suddenly exploded, his entrails having been turned green by the curse. Unknown to everyone, Diesalven had planted the plague into Iren just before he had left, knowing that he would talk. The secret of the lich wasn't something the Crusade would be allowed to know and Diesalven had not only decided to eliminate this failure of a servant while simultaneously attempting to turn him into a weapon.
The sickly remains of the one Osran had seen as his apprentice flew around the room and it was only the trio's reflexes which allowed them to shield themselves against the incoming blood stains which would certainly would certain to infect anyone it hit. However, Diesalven's plan had failed for now as the explosion didn't manage to hit anyone directly, without the victims being able to protect themselves. Still, Osran panted in fear as he looked at the ghastly man slowly drop to the floor, looking at his hands to make sure he had made it. Landgren retained his unmoved but respectable posture as he moved towards the disfigured corpse, knowing that the plague wouldn't spread anymore as this dose had been created to use its whole potential in the initial shock. He seemed to pray for a moment before he turned around and spoke to his two companions.
"Apparently there is more to the lich than we know. It's a real shame that he couldn't finish his tale. It would have been of immense value to the Crusade. However, this whole case proved one thing we had feared all along. The Scourge is trying to infiltrate our ranks using our cadets which means we cannot trust in their purity anymore." Landgren said sadly as he walked towards the two. Osran raised his hand to his chin as he thought about what Landgren had said. Was there a chance Carethas could have collaborated with Iren behind his back, only waiting for the moment to assassinate him? No matter what, he wouldn't be taken a fool anymore. The time for understanding and trust in the outsiders had passed. If overseeing and interrogating everyone really was the price of victory, there was no options on this issue. Osran stepped forward and started to speak, his face a mask of righteous rage.
"Then we must make sure of it! We can't continue the war without more recruits and if they're genuinely interested in fighting the Scourge, they'll do anything to achieve the goal of fighting the Scourge. I propose that we will force the whole and complete truth from each and every recruit with whatever means necessary! Even if it takes more of these kinds of inventions!" Osran lowered his hand atop the machine, knowing that the Crusade's safety was at stake here. The cadets wouldn't have to be truly harmed but they'd speak about their true motives if they were interrogated long enough with these tables and even with some new contrivances later on. Osram's words earned an accepting nod from Valroth who turned to look at Landgren.
"He's right. We can't afford to let any other traitors within our ranks. We've got to change our earlier reasoning on the issue of recruitment to the direction where our comrades' true allegiances won't be up for guessing." This comment was answered by Osran as he knew, despite the importance of new recruits, that these kinds of things would have to be shielded from the eyes of the ordinary Crusaders. If they knew everything about the actions of the Crimson Legion, there could be some unsavory repercussions.
"Yes, but for now, our main focus is this campaign. If some villagers seek us out before we reach Stratholme, we'll have to discuss this in more detail but we'll also have to plan our next moves. Kel'Thuzad won't rest until he has beaten us back and because of that, we mustn't give him any quarter. We must continue the campaign before the evening as was our plan!" The knight said as his companions nodded. The former's confidence had started to return because despite their differing methods, these clerics seemed to be willing to listen to Osran's ideas unlike Abbendis. Landgren looked at him in understanding as he lighted Iren's remains to fire. The room was made out of stone so there was no possibility of a larger fire.
"Indeed. Our next major operation is to reach the border of Stratholme's old forest which has been given a more appropriate name these days: the Plaguewood. Valdemar will most likely require the Legion's presence at any moment. Light's blessings to you, my comrades. We'll all need it in the days to come."
However, despite those dire warnings, the nightmarish confrontation and the Scourge's counterattack never came. Days passed slowly and ever larger stretches of the Menethil road fell under the Crusade's dominion. The knights left most of the former countryside untouched, choosing to hold on only to the major arteries and towns of the land, knowing that the countless, ruined villages were of very little help to their war effort. The crusaders established small outposts along the road to ensure its safety and their supply line's integrity. Only small groups of undead appeared here and there and as long as they approached the advancing army of knights, they were obliterated.
Those days seemed like a dream come true: the unstoppable army of the Light marching over the wicked army of the dead as if the holy power's hand sweeping the evil away. The ruins and spoiled lakes were left behind the knights and before they even realized it, the imposing forms of the unnatural, ghastly fungi appeared in the horizon. That marked only one thing: the dreaded Plaguewood would start here.
The mere sight of that cursed land made Nicholas Zverenhoff cringe in worry. He had never entered that cursed place himself but the small groups of brave paladins who had braved the shadow of the mushroom-like monstrous vegetation had told terrifying stories about horribly twisted creatures, endless groups of crazed necromancers as well as aberrations of flesh created from the poor victims of the Lich King's evil. Also, it was rumored that the entrance to Naxxramas itself was hidden somewhere deep within the woods. The cursed necropolis itself could be seen floating high above the land in the far distance, also revealing the location of Stratholme itself.
"Halt! We've already covered more than enough ground today! We'll rest before we enter the Scourge's stronghold itself!" Valdemar yelled as he stopped his steed's advance. The former duke looked at the Crusader Lord wearily, slowly coming to accept the fact that the old Valdemar wasn't going to return. In a way, he seemed like the man Zverenhoff had known but the characteristic pride and honor were gone. As he looked at his changed leader, the duke couldn't help but curse Osran in his mind.
The fact that the knight had pretended to be Valdemar's friend for so long and now commit the terrible crimes against him made something fume within the noble's mind. There had been a time when he had looked up to Osran skill and strict code of honor but these days he wanted nothing more than to reveal his despicable deeds to everyone and to bring him to justice before the Light's graceful gaze. However, if even half of the things the knight said were true, the situation was even grimmer than he had initially thought. Would it be true that the Crusade was that badly corrupted from the inside or was Osran a mere zealous aberration within the Crimson Legion?
No matter the answer, the former duke knew confronting the paladin again would only worsen his own situation while accomplishing nothing for the restoration of justice. For now, the best he could hope for was the success of their campaign. Nicholas knew there were many good people within the Crusade and in its higher echelons of power but he couldn't say whether they or the corrupt men were the more powerful group at this point. The noble could only hope for the best and pray that Valdemar would receive justice for the wrongs committed against him and that the guilty would pay in due time. He was just about to dismount when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"It truly looks as disgusting as they say. I can't wait until we can purge that abomination from the face of Lordaeron, lord Zverenhoff." The speaker was Thomas Thomson, a veteran knight from the Silver Hand and one of the most eager but also honorable paladins Nicholas knew. The latter turned towards the other knight but didn't stop to address him as he walked past him to help his comrades unloading the tents from the carriages.
"Remember that the forest isn't our primary objective just yet, Thomson. We'll wipe it out in due time but before that, we have to take Stratholme and find that damned entrance to Naxxramas. But you're right, it'll be a spectacle I have to agree I look forward to, no matter what monstrosities come our way." The noble knew his words would be seen immature, even childish in their obliviousness to the war's horrors but this was a moment the people of Lordaeron, and indeed all untainted peoples of Azeroth, had waited for years. Each and every member of the Crusade would gladly spill their blood for this noblest of causes.
"I just hope we'll find that damned door to the necropolis. Our scouts have never found it, no matter how they've tried to search for it. Without that portal, Naxxramas is impenetrable as any gryphons would be shot down a long time in advance. That search won't be an easy one." The knight said as he pulled the heavy fabric of the tent to the ground. He knew his words didn't contribute to the situation too much but he wanted to relieve his own impatience with this small talk. Nicholas, however, asked him a question that surprised him somewhat.
"Without a doubt. The Scourge must have hidden it well but we'll find it before long. Also, I heard you were considering sending your family to safety. Did you go on with that plan?" Zverenhoff wasn't completely interested as his own family had fallen under the Scourge's onslaught during the original invasion of Lordaeron. Thomas was slightly taken aback by this personal question as it had been weeks since he had told about his idea to the duke. He stuttered for a few times before he regained his confidence.
"Why, I did. Suzannah, Joel and Gina are long gone. Their ship left the port of Southshore over two weeks ago. I… I wish they'd still be here beside me but I know it's for the best. They should be arriving at the waters surrounding the colony of Theramore in the next few days… At least it gives me some relief to know that they live on in the case I meet my end here." Clear melancholy filled the man's eyes as his eyes were locked at the distant fungi-resembling aberrations. A clear look of longing and melancholy radiated from the paladin's eyes as the faces of his wife and children flowed before his eyes. Zverenhoff looked at the lower-ranked knight with understanding but he chuckled slightly as he answered. The noble put his leg on a nearby rock near Thomas and started to speak to him in a thoughtful voice.
"You'll see them before the end, trust me. None of you will depart this world without your family reuniting at least once more in a moment overflowing with happiness. They are lucky to have you as their husband and father, Thomas. Your children will grow up feeling pride for the right to call you their father. You'll have many great stories to tell them when you meet them again." Zverenhoff tried to build hope inside his comrade and Thomas seemed slightly surprised be the duke's words. Still, he shook his head and continued his gaze.
"I hope so but all of it seems so final… they took off from our ancestral homeland to start a new life in that newly-found, magical land while I'm left in this hell fighting these monsters! It's like we are in two different worlds… what if they decide to stay in their new one? What if I'm fighting for nothing?" Thomas was surprised by those words himself as he hadn't actually thought about it before. Zverenhoff frowned deeply as he looked at the other paladin, surprised by these kinds f thoughts. He scratched his neck briefly before answering.
"Do you think fighting for Lordaeron is futile? Even if your family decides to stay in Kalimdor, don't you want to honor your house's memory by removing the undead filth from your ancestral home? Doesn't Arthas' betrayal raise any emotions within you? We're not fighting for nothing, Thomas, and you know it. But I'm sure they'll return before you know it. I'm sure of it." Zverenhoff said as he nailed the peg into the hard ground. Thomas sighed slightly as he heard the other man's answer, hoping dearly he was right. He simply stared at Zverenhoff and said to him in a silent, worried voice.
"I hope you're right, Nicholas. The last thing I want is that all I do will go to waste before the end." The former duke looked at the other paladin and simply nodded to him as a signal that he had said everything he had to say. The latter turned away from him and moved to get additional pegs from the wagon. He wanted to get over this part as quickly as possible.
This brief conversation had another beholder, however. Osran was standing on a slight higher ground not near from the duo, likewise preparing for the brief rest. He, too, had known Thomas for a long time but he had most often been quite a solitary man, most often preferring to stay on his own within Tyr's Hand. It was quite surprising to see him this open about his thoughts to another paladin but Osran wasn't surprised he had chosen the noble to talk to due to his friendly and respected insight into a variety of things. But those thoughts were quickly overshadowed by his own personal issues which had quickly escalated since Iren's untimely betrayal and death. The paladin was still torn whether or not to trust Carethas but deep down, there were some regrets within his mind whether or not he had done the right things with the surviving cadet.
Osran looked around himself, waiting for Eneath to come help him as the duo's tents would be located side by side and they'd often help each other with erecting the temporary shelters. As his nephew was nowhere to be seen, Osran's mind wandered to the day evening following the treacherous recruit's gruesome end when he had paid Carethas a visit in the city's former church the priests had made their headquarters immediately. The cadet had been intensely healed following his injury and his own confusion about the whole situation had made him do something which still lingered in his, despite knowing his reasoning and the numerous argument behind that decision. Osran looked at the sky as he returned to that hazy afternoon four days ago…
The paladin felt a mixture of suspicion and appreciation within his mind as he looked at the cadet still lying in the ground in absence of any better facilities for the wounded. Osran had met Carethas earlier than Iren, that was true, but that meant little in the disgusting manipulations of the Scourge. In his eyes, Carethas was guilty until proven otherwise. He wouldn't likely know the absolute truth about the recruit just yet but he'd have to investigate the remaining cadet's behavior closely. Luckily he was already awake after the intense efforts of the priests and Osran headed straight to the room he was being held. The paladin looked at the bandages around his chest, surprised that they didn't seem to hold even a drop of blood. He broke the silence shortly after he entered the room.
"It's good to see you already in this good shape, Yrendel. You took quite a beating out there." The paladin sounded completely neutral, even laconic as he spoke but he didn't want to reveal his real business for being here. He wouldn't have visited most of his other comrades but this time he had a real reason to be here: to investigate if his doubts had been misplaced in the first place. The younger man seemed surprised by his former trainer's appearance like this but he knew he owed his life to the aging knight. He took a moment to find the right words to say before he answered.
"I… I'm grateful for saving me. I… I failed everyone when I underestimated the acolyte's abilities. I would have died if it weren't for your and the others' healing. I'm sorry, master Lowriver." The recruit said as he felt humbled by his failure. He had trained under Osran for only one day but he still would have wanted to repay his inspiration better than by making these kinds of blunders before his eyes. Osran glanced away from a broken window, taking a deep breath as if he was announcing some bad news, which he from Carethas' perspective was actually doing.
"Don't worry about that. You did much better than many others as you at least survived. That's more than some others can say. Iren, for example, didn't make it. He fell shortly after your injury." Osran shook his head as he spoke, trying to reinforce the impression of his sadness. He couldn't tell the truth as this tale determined much better whether Carethas deemed Iren as a rival or a friend or as a despicable and failed collaborator. Also, if the young man was completely oblivious to Iren's treachery, it was better to not tell him about the Crusade's more unsavory deeds. Carethas was about to gasp as his gaze dropped. Hearing that his only peer had already met his end shocked him greatly as Iren had seemed in many ways more gifted than him. The recruit took a moment before he answered.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I often saw him as someone who I would have to compete against to prove my worth and I always felt like he would make a better paladin than me. H… how did he die?" Carethas had lost enough loved ones and friends in the long years of struggle in Barrowhome to be overwhelmed by these news but he still wished to know what had become the bane of his comrade. Osran stared at him without a clear expression, seeing that Carethas' restrained reaction seemed like a genuine one. If he was a pawn of the Lich King, he at least was good at faking his gestures alongside with his words. Osran decided to push his test a little further, seeing if Carethas would react in any way if he mentioned the necromancer's name.
"Shortly after we took out the remaining acolytes and broke the spell, we headed back to help Valdemar against the lich. Iren was very eager to decide the battle once and for all and it was this youthful impatience that became his downfall. The Scourge had set up a new trap for us in the house above the basement and Iren and a few others took the first blow. They were infused with the Plague and we cut them down immediately to save their souls from the cold dark. This ambush was led by a necromancer one of us seemed to recognize: his name is rumored to be Diesalven. Sadly he managed to escape before he paid for his crimes." The knight concluded, ending his highly altered version of the events with a heavy, faraway tone. To his slight surprise and relief, there was nothing suspicious in Carethas' reaction as in his eyes lived the disbelief and shock that he had seen so many times in the cadets after their first battle and personal loss. Osran was gladdened by the young man's reactions, slowly realizing that there was a chance his doubts had been misplaced.
"Well, may the Light smile upon his soul. The most important thing is that we won the battle, right? It just feels so wrong that Iren proudly stood by my side in Tyr's Hand and now he's dead. Just like my brother so many years ago." Carethas thought mournfully, not willing to remember those terrible days. A careful thought begun to form in the knight's mind, however. Even if Carethas hadn't been Kel'Thuzad's pawn, that didn't mean some other of the later recruits wouldn't be. Carethas couldn't officially join the Crusade for months but maybe, considering their long if distant acquittance, he could offer Carethas a shortcut on his career. That idea seemed to bother Osran somewhat but it was something he knew would benefit them both.
"I'm sorry about his fate but it's better that we fall fighting for something worth fighting for than live in fear all our days. But Carethas, I have another thing I came to talk about. To our utmost concern and disappointment, there have been rumors that the Scourge has sent spies and saboteurs among our new cadets. I'm sure you have nothing to do with them and I'm not asking you to try to judge now if any of your peers did something suspicious as the servants of the Scourge are unbelievably cunning. However, I'd ask you to keep an eye on the other cadets from now on." The paladin said in a strong voice which still failed to soften the shock on the cadet. The Crusade infected with the Scourge? First he had lost his closest comrade and now he was being told that the Crusade was rotten inside? He cringed heavily as he answered.
"I… I never knew that. I thought that the days of fast and interrogations would drop out any of those bastards! B… but I guess trying to help you in finding them is my duty as a paladin. But… but what can I do if they are as wry as you say? The younger man said in confusion, earning a slight sad look from Osran. He hated to lie about Iren still but he couldn't be too careful here. Carethas would learn the truth in the future if he proved to be worth the older paladin's trust but for now, Osran figured he'd keep all the cards to himself. He answered to the recruit and spoke to him, trying to sound as trustworthy as he simply could.
"It's easier for those infiltrators to keep their cover if they know they're being watched but even they cannot stay alert every second of their existence. I simply ask you to keep your eyes and ears open but remember that no one must suspect you of working for us. If you prove to be of use to the Crusade, I'll promise you that I'll help you to become a true knight faster than most of your peers. It is your reward for doing your best to keep our sacred order safe. Do we have a deal?" The paladin knew that asking a young cadet to spy on his comrades in exchange of favors wasn't exactly the most honorable way of serving the Light but at this point, the Crusade's sanctity was the most important thing of all. His own concerns were further dampened by the surprised and interested smile-resembling expression that crept to Carethas' face. It was clear Osran had just presented him with an offer he couldn't refuse.
"We do, master Lowriver. I'll do everything within my power to bring those traitors to justice. You have my word of it." His earlier melancholy clearly lingered within the cadet's eyes but the promise of such a meteoric rise in the Crusade brought great hope to him. Osran took a brief smile as he headed back towards the door before he briefly turned his head towards the recruit as he lowered his hand on the door handle.
"Very well, Yrendel. I'll look forward to the fruits of our cooperation but for now, rest for a bit more. We'll begin moving in a few hours and I advise you to be ready by then." The crusader said before he left the room, leaving Carethas with many conflicted feelings. He had lost a comrade and a piece of his early, unreserved hope in the Crusade's purity but suddenly, he had been offered a clear path forward in his life, one that offered great promise for him. With his head a complete flux, Carethas decided to comply with Osran's request before the continuation of the battle and fell asleep on the cold, rocky floor, his injuries still weighing on him heavily.
Since that day, Carethas hadn't offered him any major clues but he expressed his doubts about some of his comrades' antics and seemingly unchivalrous behavior but nothing that would require serious investigations. It was clear that the cadet wanted to find out something of worth to redeem his prize but even he knew he couldn't find traitors where there weren't any. Osran sighed as he looked towards Plaguewood, wondering if he was pushing the young man too far this quickly on his career. Still, he wanted to think that this plan wouldn't go waste in the long run and with a short sigh, Osran entered his tent to prepare for the coming battle.
He dreaded what the Crusade would face in the cursed forest but he had a bad feeling Kel'Thuzad had spared his most powerful minions for the defense of his own stronghold and if those fears would prove to be correct, there was no telling what horrors he would have to face under the damned canopy of the mutated trees. The aging paladin trusted the Crusade's strength and its ability to head towards the final, decisive victory but the following day would most likely be a subject of horror stories for many years to come.
Against all odds, the Crusade has managed to put the Scourge on the defensive. As a flicker of hope for the lost kingdom, the living are even readying for the final attack against Stratholme itself but first they have to take its surroundings and the dreaded Plaguewood. Will they continue to push forward as a force of righteous reckoning or will the Lich King's forces regain the upper hand? Hopefully you enjoyed this offering and see you again in the next one!