With their pasts all revealed . . . Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own (World of) Warcraft. If I did, I would be busy making the next expansion instead of writing Fanfictions

21: Wrap-Up and Return

The fire burned low as Lethella was finishing up her tale.

" . . . I was the only survivor of that attack. From that day on, I swore revenge on Kel'Thuzad and to atone for my own foolishness. I hunted him relentlessly for seven years, even joining the Argent Dawn and learning swordplay while becoming stronger in magic. I took every mission to hunt down the Cult of the Damned, the real organization Kel'Thuzad build for the Lich King, in the Plaguelands. Still, it wasn't enough, as I watched the land around me wither and die and the Scourge grow stronger every day."

No one spoke as she looked at the three individually and continued:

"Eventually, the floating necropolis of Naxxramas—the home of Kel'Thuzad, now undead and the archlich of the Scourge—appeared over theEastern Plaguelands. I volunteered to join the Argent Dawn expedition group into his lair led by Darion Mograine, the younger brother of Renault Mograine, but was turned down. Furious at losing my one chance to get revenge and atone, I left the Argent Dawn."

She tugged lightly at the tabard she was wearing.

"Fortunately, the Dawn and Crusade formed an uneasy alliance to destroy Naxxramas at the time. It's through their representative, Scarlet Commander Marjhan, that I was able to find out about the Crusade in the first place. So I travelled to Tyr's Hand, and the rest is history."

Danthor leaned in a bit closer, unsure of what to say. Finally, he settled on: "What happened wasn't your fault."

"But it was, in a way!" the battle mage lashed out. "I willingly followed that monster and left the Kirin Tor! If I had told the Six about him defecting with so many mages, they would have stopped him, and the Scourge wouldn't exist!"

She looked around at the clearly speechless Jonas, Balean, and Danthor, then looked back down into the fire.

"I shoulder some of the blame, and I can live with that," she said. "But I won't rest or stop until the Lich King is dead and the Scourge eradicated. That's all . . ."

Jonas threw more wood on the fire. All their tales had been told, and they took them well into the night. Both Garren's Haunt and the Agamand Mills were still untouched, and all was silent save for the crackling of the wood in the fire. Finally, an hour after Lethella told her story, there were signs of movement.

Everyone heard it at once, and gathered their weapons immediately, looking into the direction of the sound. Danthor heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the noise was coming from the east, towards Garren's Haunt. Within a few more minutes, they saw a massive caravan of crusaders, guarding at least five full wagons. They were led by Captain Melrache.

"About damn time," Jonas muttered, standing up and raising his arms. "Over here!"

The caravan spotted them immediately, and the four remaining crusaders moved down the mountain towards them, laughing the whole way. Melrache greeted them with a salute, saying, "Crusader Myles sent us here, telling us to bring enough supplies for a large-scale fortification project. Sorry for the delay."

"It's fine," Danthor said, watching as half the caravan stopped while the other half moved down towards the Mills. "It can't be easy getting together such a large pool of resources on such short notice."

The half of the caravan that stayed behind immediately began unloading their supplies, which included stone and mortar. There were at least thirty crusaders assigned to guard the construction, while even more laborers got to work knocking down the rotted house that used to belong to Maggot Eye.

"So how'd your field test go, captain?" inquired Balean. "Better than ours, I hope."

Melrache nodded. "We conquered the Venomweb Vale with no casualties and are in the middle of the fortification as we speak. Unfortunately, Captain Perrine's group wasn't as lucky, as we never heard word from him. We sent a few scouts to the Balnir Farmstead to find out what happened, and saw that the Forsaken were in the middle of building their own base there. We can only assume the worst."

"What a waste . . ." Lethella muttered.

After a few seconds of silence, Melrache coughed and looked at the four. "Yes, well, I'm sure you're exhausted, and we've arranged for your trip back to the monastery for a much-deserved rest. From what we've heard from Crusader Myles, you've done an exemplary service."

"You should really be thanking Captain Vachon, not us," Danthor said. He assumed Melrache had heard about what happened to his colleague. His silent nod confirmed it.

"Regardless, if you'd come this way I'd be more than happy to take you back to the monastery."

Looking at each other, the four of them grinned. They did their job successfully, and now they were going home. They followed Melrache to an empty wagon that would take them back.

Without a doubt, they passed the field test.

— — —

For once, Garomaw, Rammius, and Velonara didn't know what they were in for when going to meet with Sylvanas, who had summoned them to their personal chamber.

Garomaw assumed it was to congratulate the three on their successful takeover of the Balnir Farmstead. They ran into some resistance from the humans of the Crusade—and who could've predicted they'd also be vying for that land at the same time?—and lost a few men to both them and the Scourge, but a victory was always a victory in the Dark Lady's eyes, and she would no doubt look upon the three positively.

As they passed by the red-hooded royal guards, Dark Ranger Velonara looked at her two companions and said, "I don't have a good feeling about this . . ."

"What makes you say that?" Rammius asked, looking at the undead high elf.

"The face of the guards says it all," replied Velonara. "They're on edge about something, and I'm sure it's because of Lady Sylvanas."

Garomaw shrugged. "Nothing to fear, I'm sure. The Dark Lady always rewards those who carry out her orders successfully."

Yet when they walked into the Royal Quarter, all three of them could sense that something was not wrong. Sylvanas was too busy talking to Varimathras to notice their entrance. In the middle of the room where the two stood was a table with a map of Tirisfal on it. Clearly circled was the Scarlet Monastery.

"My queen," Garomaw started, kneeling down, "we've been summoned at your request."

"Ah, Captain Grimhand," Sylvanas said, looking up from her map at the three. "So nice to see you fresh from your most recent victory. Taking the Farmstead wasn't difficult, I hope."

Garomaw glanced up at her. "We ran into more opposition than we hoped, but were able to overcome them and claim the land for the Forsaken."

"Good." Sylvanas and her dreadlord-general moved away from the table as the three troops stood up. "I wish the same could be said for Captain Sorenson and his lot."

"Sorenson?" asked Garomaw. He hadn't heard from him since he gave him command at the Solliden Farmstead. Evidently he rose to the rank of captain. "What happened, my queen?"

"He was ordered him to conquer the Agamand Mills," answered Varimathras. "We received word a few weeks later of his success, and immediately ordered him to conquer Garren's Haunt. We never heard back from him."

Sylvanas echoed a laughed throughout the entire throne room. "And do you know what we found when we sent out battalion to secure the Mills? We found those damned crusading humans already building up their own fortifications! Now why, captain, do you think that is?"

Both Velonara and Rammius looked at Garomaw, who was put on the spot by the Banshee Queen. "B-Because Sorenson was beaten by the humans."

Quick as lightning, Sylvanas drew one of her arrows and fired it. It zoomed over the head of Garomaw and stuck itself into the wall. "Correct!" she proclaimed. "All our attacks on the newly fortified Crusade ground have failed, and it doesn't seem like we'll be getting that land anytime soon!"

"We're back to square one," Varimathras muttered.

Garomaw stood up. "Allow me to lead the assault on these areas, my queen. I will conquer them again in the name of the Forsaken!"

"No," replied Sylvanas, shaking her head. "No, no, I have a much better task for you. I've grown tired of these territorial squabbles. I plan on crushing this resistance altogether! Commander Grimhand, you are to take as many soldiers as you need and assault the monastery itself. Wipe out all signs of life within its walls in my name!"

Garomaw was speechless. He'd known that the final goal of their recent, aggressive stance on securing land was to destroy the Scarlet Monastery, but he certainly didn't expect it to happen this soon—or for him

(now a commander)

to personally lead it. He bowed. "Of course, my queen. It shall be done."

"Rammius, you are a member of the Royal Apothecary Society, and I expect you to use your skills accordingly in the assault. You have my permission to use any concoction necessary."

"Of course, my queen."

She turned towards the dark ranger. "Velonara, I expect you to put an arrow in his heart if you think that he won't grant us victory." She pointed to Garomaw.

Velonara grinned slyly. "It shall be done, my lady."

"Do not fail us," Varimathras added. "Take as much time as you need, but don't come back until the entire monastery is razed to the ground!"

With bows, all three Forsaken left. When they were out of earshot, Garomaw looked at Velonara and said, "She promoted me to commander for a reason. I should hope you treat me with the respect I deserve."

Dark Ranger Velonara pulled an arrow out and tested its point. It was razor sharp. "We'll have to see about that. We rangers are always watching from the shadows, ready to take over at any minute."

Apothecary Rammius just shook his head at the two, already thinking about which plague concoctions to bring with him for the attack.

— — —

They were in the wee hours of the morning when they finally made it back to the monastery.

Only a few crusaders left to guard were out when the four wearily made their way back into different bunks. Jonas and Balean said their goodbyes as they made their way to their separate wings—the cathedral and library wing respectively. Danthor looked at Lethella quizzically when he saw she didn't follow Balean into his wing.

"Aren't you training under Doan tomorrow?"

Lethella shook her head. "No, tomorrow I'm in the armory."

The two made their way to the barracks of the armory. At the split between where the men and women sleep, Danthor looked at the battle mage asked in a whisper, "You think our success makes us real crusaders now?"

Lethella nodded. "Probably, but that doesn't mean we stop training. We still have a lot to learn."

"Of course," Danthor said, opening the door to the male barracks and taking a step inside, Lethella doing the same. Then, he turned back around and added: "Good night, Lethella."

"Good night, Danthor."

With a smile on his face, he walked into the barracks and drifted off to sleep in his bed . . .

He was allowed to sleep in until midmorning. Danthor assumed it was because Herod knew of his return, though he doubted he could've woken up at the crack of dawn anyways—he completely slept through the morning wakeup call. Sitting up in his bed, he wondered if Lethella was waking up right now. With a little laugh, he shook his head, doubting it. She was, after all, the most motivated crusader in the whole monastery.

And with good reason, he thought to himself, remembering her past.

He got out of bed and lightly stepped onto the ground. The first thing he noticed was an entirely new set of armor placed on the ground by his bed. Attached to it was a note. He took the note from the armor and read it. It said:

Congratulations on achieving the rank of Scarlet Defender.
—Herod

Danthor put the note down and inspected the armor. He had to admit, it was quite an upgrade. The armor was made up of actual mail instead of leather that completely covered his scarred arms (unlike his armor as a soldier). What he found most amusing was that he was given a small red shoulderpad to place on his left shoulder—to protect his side that's jutting out at his opponent when in his proper defending stance. It reminded him of Herod's, but it wasn't nearly was big or noticeable.

He inspected the weapons next. The shield was the same, but his sword was longer and sharper than his previous sword. This looks like the legitimate equipment they give to their men, he thought. While my old armor felt like the second-rate goods.

Still, it was definitely an improvement, and the increase in rank

(those that get the rank of soldier can't do much more than swing and sword and block with their shield, though even then those that do it well get the rank of Scarlet defender)

gave him the kind of confidence boost he needed. All this training wasn't for naught, and he most certainly wasn't wasting his time here. All fired up, he put on his new armor and made his way to the training grounds, where Herod was drilling the remaining crusaders.

Upon seeing Danthor, he ordered the crusaders to continue their exercises and made his way to the defender. No doubt with a smile under his helmet, he put his hand on Danthor's shoulder (the unarmored one) and said, "I've heard about your accomplishment during your test. Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Danthor said. "I'd also like to thank you for thinking I'm worthy of becoming a defender instead of just a soldier."

"Nonsense, you deserve it." He leaned in a bit closer to Danthor and whispered. "In truth, most members don't stay soldiers for long. Those that keep their rank for six months or more will usually never achieve the next rank. They're just not skilled enough, you see."

"Ah, well that's good, then," Danthor said. Changing the subject, he asked, "Have you seen Lethella today?"

"The battle mage?" he replied. "Hmm, I believe I did. She was up with everyone else and was sent into the armory to train a bit with the myrmidons. Why?"

Danthor shrugged. "No reason, I just thought—"

He was cut off when a Scarlet scout burst onto the training ground and rushed towards Herod. Out of breath, he said, "Sir, permission to . . . speak."

"Once you've regained your breath."

The scout nodded, gripping his knees and taking deep breaths. When he could speak normally, he said, "I come bearing dire news."

"Well spit it out then." Herod didn't sound happy.

"Remember how we transported the undead named Sorenson to Interrogator Vishas for information?"

Herod nodded. Danthor found out the fate of the nine-fingered Forsaken.

"After a few hours of questioning," the scout continued, "he finally broke, saying that the Forsaken's entire plan for conquest revolved around taking over the monastery, and that it was going to happen soon!"

"And?" asked the champion.

"Shortly after that, we lost contact with interrogation chamber completely," he answered. "A few minutes later, one crusader returned, injured, telling us this information, and saying that they were attacked by the Forsaken themselves! He was the only survivor. When Commander Mograine found out, he quickly sent us here!"

"What?" asked both Herod and Danthor.

Before the scout could speak any further, an explosion was heard in the distance, followed by several yells and screams. Danthor and Herod looked at each other when this happened.

The attack had begun.

Time to put the training to a real test!

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