Chapter 13:
This is now the fourth day of rain in a row.
Yet I can see through my window that it is already clearing up in the far west. If we're lucky, maybe in only a few hours Tirisfal will be free from clouds for a change. Fortunately it is still early in the morning so there still is plenty of time till our departure so the winds can do their work.
The last month was quiet, by far too quiet actually. I have not heard from Whitemane, nor seen her since that one treacherous evening where she told me about the secrets of the book. And most of the people who I've had contact with since then, maybe the only people were guards.
I have been here in the Scarlet Monastery for barely two months now, yet I am already packing up for leaving again. And by all means the time I spent here was not easy at all. All the trouble I had to go through... all of it only to be discarded, seemingly at random, from the person who I might despise, but thinks of me as prodigy for whatever fields of magic and the Crusade in general. I never understood how she let go of me that easily. But it can only one thing – that she's up to something. Whitemane gave up far too easily...
Anyways..., ever since it has been reinforced by troops of the Scarlet Crusade, the city of Tyr's Hand has become a stronghold deep within the plague-ridden lands. The numbers of members from the Crusade within the city walls is rising with each day, securing our own foothold as well as the city itself. It has turned again into the prosperous port it was once before only during the course of the last month. And frankly I am quite happy to be able to go there, to get away from Whitemane's clutches. Her influence should still be able to reach over there, but I highly doubt it'll have the same strength of effect.
Especially after they told me how Tyr's Hand would become the new religious center of the Crusade. They'll clearly have their own ideas of suitable teaching methods. It's another reason for me to be happy to go there. There should be no place on this continent where I could become a better cleric than in that city.
They also already informed me that High Lord Abbendis had already arranged everything so that class can start immediately once we have arrived there. Seems I'm not the only one going. And of course I'm not - the whole group I'm travelling with will consist of about ten fully trained soldiers, two fully trained clerics and round about fifteen apprentices.
One of the guards mentioned that a small number of hired mercenaries would come with us for extra protection, just to be on the safe side of things. After all we have to pass the ruins of Andorhal with this rather large group of people as well as greater parts of the western and eastern plaguelands. This will take some time and we can't go by horse. We would attract far too much attention from the rotting inhabitants of the former city and besides... the Scarlet Crusade could surely not supply enough for all of us. Those resources are needed elsewhere at the moment.
With or without horses, if we travel fast, which we are not going to be because we are by far too many, we'll need maybe two days to reach the city walls of Tyr's Hand.
And even though I still have my trouble in believing in it myself from time to time, I finally managed to make peace with myself concerning my mother, despite it taking me quite some time and I ignoring all the unanswered questions I still have. But for now I settled on taking the book with me and read through it once we reach the city. Can't tell, but I have the feeling I might find a few more things within the lines of that text that were meant for me to be discovered once the time would turn right.
Yet no matter what, I still have to gather most my belongings right now. They are only few, but I never intended to take everything with me for this journey. Most of them being mainly spare robes, speaking in other words items nice to have but far from mandatory.
As I pick up the book Corren gave me I feel ashamed that I still haven't looked into it. It's a feeling that overcomes me almost everything I even only look at it. But still, having it close by gives me faith so I can hold on to my dream.
I also started wearing the necklace Keira gave me the day they departed from Hearthglen. Those two items give me hope. They strengthen my spirit though they are hardly anything but small trinkets without much to them except for idealistic worth.
I often think about the two, remembering the time we spent together in Hearthglen, the place where we first met each other.
But right now all I can do is hope both of them are well. I pray for them to the Holy Light. If one can call the things I do praying. I can't hide the smile due to this one stray notion of thought that just overcame me.
Wrapping up the two books I want to take with me in one of my robes and put them into the leather bag one of the guards gave me. Afterwards I decide to let the rest be just as it is and step over to my window, looking out into the gloomy sky. This could be the last time I can enjoy this view for quite a while, I should savior the moment... Parts of the darkened sky are clearing up already although at the present moment they are still rather far away.
Perfect circumstances for a rainbow...
I can hear the bell of the cathedral loud and clear. It's time for the morning prayers, my last ones inside these walls. Quickly I head over to the cathedral right away. As every morning the people gather quietly inside. Renault Mograine is standing in front of us next to the altar preaching something about worshipping the Holy Light and not giving in to hidden temptation.
I don't really listen to him if I am truly honest. He may be the son of the Ashbringer, but his charisma does not come near as close to the one of his father. He also often fumbles for words, as if he does not know what to say. It's he feels uncomfortable up there in front if you ask me, just the same as I would feel.
Sometimes you even have a sort of feeling that you can tell how he would not vouch for the things he says. He is not very similar to his father on those accounts. And I'm sure how he would fair in battle. He might have the blade, but whether he can wield it I don't dare to judge.
Once he is done I'm glad that the preaching came to an end.
Everybody around me stays as quiet as usually upon leaving the cathedral. I take my sweet time having a last gander at the architecture, the windows of frosted glass and the paintings on the walls. This building is remarkable, but I hurry out after realizing how I could bump into Whitemane within these halls. And by all means that would be the last thing that I wanted or needed right now. But I guess I know the drill by now. She would surely try to play her tricks on me one final time. Although I honestly have to say, I wonder what she is up to at the moment. She didn't make a move for quite a long time now. I can only stress that I'm certain that she is planning something big.
The courtyard is surprisingly empty for this time of the day. It's me and a couple of guards that are on their usual shift. But now sure what the other apprentices that are coming with us to Tyr's Hand are doing right now but I for my part don't intend to return to my room until the departure of the troop. I figured I'd head back when I have to get my belongings.
With the spare time on my hands I take another long walk around the grounds of the monastery. One of the guards told me that they would ring the bell once when the mercenaries arrive and twice when the group will be leaving. So everybody in the monastery will notice and everybody will have enough time to gather in the main hall, or at least send out their prayers for the departing.
As I walk over the soft lawn of the monastery, I try to recall everything that had happened here once again. I still don't fully understand why there was this frenzy about me, but well. Once I'm out of here, Whitemane won't be able to seize her grip around me again and I'll be able to stay away from people like Captain Theran. At least that's what I dearly hope for.
The wet earth underneath my feet makes noises with every step I take. The rain might have stopped a good while ago, yet everything's still far too moist for my liking. It has been a rather cold summer so far, but maybe this will change up after midsummer. This year's spring on the other hand was quite warm, so chances are it'll change soon enough. Not that it would matter in any form.
I start looking for a canopied bench around here where I could sit down for a few minutes, hoping for it to be dry enough. Luckily for me, I find one at the open space near the armory.
Erasing Whitemane from my thoughts won't come easy. I already tried that during the last week but she just always keeps coming back when I think of certain events.
More ironically, if I think about it, I'm actually a bit sad that Captain Theran left the Crusade. She was a beautiful woman, only her character she showed towards me was kind of disturbing. But I guess she just simply did not understand me, how I felt and what I wanted. She must have thought that I'm enjoying this whole situation, considering the very few things she knew about me. I try picturing her in my mind once again pushing aside the few remaining hateful thoughts I came up with towards her. For a second I wonder what her first name is, I never knew.
But I quickly come to the point that I decide I shouldn't think about this for too much longer so I get up and head onwards to the armory, maybe today I can get into the Hall of Champions for a change.
Oh my, I almost forgot how long the armory actually is. It feels like ages getting to the other end. Once I arrive at the sacred door I ask the guards in front of it whether I could enter today or not. They let me in, but remind me that if Champion Herod wants to start his training session, I ought to leave. I nod in response. This had been made clear to me enough times already.
I enter the large circular room. Stairs to my left and right are leading down to a wide open space. All around the room stone statues are standing tall and proud, eleven of them in total. All those great men and women became heroes for what they did, lived for or what they died for.
Barean Westwind, lost off the Frozen Coast.
Invar One-Arm, last seen on the shores of Northrend.
Valea Twinblades, lost deep in the eastern plaguelands.
All of them strong personalities and great fighters for the Scarlet Crusade that stood their ground. I take some time and just stand there gazing at the statues with wide open eyes. It feels great looking at them. I don't know why but it somehow calms me down, gives me a feeling of safety and that the Crusade can overcome any enemy. It fuels my desire to stand in line with these great people.
As I turn around I have already lost my sense of time completely. I'm not entirely sure what overcame me while I was standing here. Finally leaving the room I thank the guards for letting me inside, then I try to get back to the main hall.
Just now I hear them striking the bell. It is this late already? I run back to my room without any detour fetching the bag I had packed earlier. Yet it takes me quite some time to get to my quarters because of the damn long armory. As I reach my room I don't really have the time to check again whether I have everything or if something is missing.
Blindly grabbing the bag, I make my way to the main hall. We are ought to assemble there, they told me.
As I reach the main hall, about two thirds of the group it already there. I'm glad to see that I'm not the last one missing and calm down a bit, catching my breath. I'd probably need that stamina for later today. Looking around I notice the two clerics are still missing and most of the other apprentices. The warriors are already complete and two of the mercenaries are here with us, the rest of them probably waiting outside.
Something is strange about the armor of one of them. It is light grey and bears a silver emblem. I'm not what that symbol should represent but it looks somewhat familiar. Both of the mercenaries bear a two-handed axe on their back. Just seeing these mighty weapons is somewhat frightening. After a few more minutes most of the rest of the group has gathered and one of the warriors gives the order to strike the bell again. The guard heads off towards the cathedral immediately. I suppose it will take about five to six minutes for him to get there.
Meanwhile the rest of the troop will wait here. Only after we hear the bell, we will leave the main building, no matter who is still missing, and assemble in front of the monastery for instructions from the group's leaders.
Two more people arrive before we hear the bell another two times, so I guess everybody made it still on time.
The crowd starts moving out of the building once the signal is given. I'm right in the middle of this stream of people, just as always. I get pushed along with the others, leaving me no chance of slowing down unnecessarily.
As we leave the monastery, the sky has cleared up even further. I'll try to think of it as a good sign.
There are six more mercenaries waiting here, two of them on horseback. One of them is wearing a suit of armor similar to the guy who was assigned to waiting with us inside. The man has long blonde hair and is a lot taller than I am. Contrary to his fellows he has a mace on his back with a different emblem engraved on it.
Wait a minute... that... that can't be.
Could it really...?
"Corren?" I ask a bit too loud in my disbelief.
He turns around, his eyes showing at least the same amount of bewilderment as mine, "Marc!" I try rushing towards him as good as I could the midst of the little crowd.
"How good to see you." He calls out as he embraces me for a short moment then takes me by my shoulders. "I wouldn't have dreamed to imagining you to be on this trip too." He states with joyous tone.
"Neither did I... neither did I..." My voice on the other hand is turning strangely quiet. Well that certainly is a surprise. I don't really know what to say. It's not that long since we have seen each other for the last time if you think about it, yet it feels like ages have passed.
"How's Keira?" I ask him straight forward.
"Honestly, Marc..." He sounds concerned, "I don't know." He lets his head drop. "Our group split up as we went through the Alterac Mountains. She went to the ruins of Dalaran. I also can only hope she is doing alright..." I wouldn't have expected that this question would hit him that hard. But he raises his head again and forces a smile. "But I got the feeling that she is fine. There's nothing she'd not manage. We both know her well enough..."
I nod and try to smile back at him. He might be right on that part but it's something really usual for him to say. But in all honesty I kind of already surprised me that he knew nothing about what has become of her.
"Attention everybody..." A loud voice calls out.
"We can talk later on, Marc. I'm sure we will have plenty of time. Count on that..." Corren quickly leans in closer to me, whispering into my ear.
The noise of all the people around us relentlessly keeps on even after the guard having said that everyone should quiet down and listen.
"I said... ATTENTION EVERYBODY!" The man suddenly shouts out as loud as he possibly can without dragging the voice out too much. The talking stops immediately and everybody turns their attention to him. He is maybe about as tall as I am with short brown hair. You can see the end of a scar beginning only centimeters below his throat.
"My name is Lieutenant Sam Bermoth." He wears a red toned armor and above that a tabard of the Scarlet Crusade.
"I am the one in charge of this group and I am the only one. The first rule is simple. And every one of you is ought to comply! The first rule is plainly that my word and my word only is the one to be followed. I give the orders and you execute them without delay or tallying around!" His tone is strict and his voice strong. "Now for the pleasantries: the trained part of our group consists of ten of our warriors and two clerics. The rest are fifteen cleric apprentices. LISTEN! If anything should happen, if we should be engaged in combat for whatsoever reason, keep behind our fully trained and skilled men. This will save your life, trust me on that. None of you is ready for fully fledged eye-for-an-eye combat." He makes a short pause, giving even the slowest minds to catch up. "As an extra security measure, eight of the finest mercenaries from the eastern kingdoms will be accompanying us on our trip to the city of Tyr's Hand. Their leader is Raydon Ha..." He points to the man on the horse close behind him. Raydon though quickly interferes and raises his hand as a sign not to keep on talking any further.
"Please, just call me Ray. That will do." Ray has a full beard and long black hair. He is rather muscular, yet he appears swift and agile for me even though this should actually be hard to tell, more so impossible while he is only sitting on that horse.
"If you have any questions about this trip or if you have any needs concerning our travelling, you can contact him as well as me. But make sure not to bother any of us two with irrelevant crap of yours." Bermoth continues as the tone of his voice grows harsher. This is feeling like in one of the boot camps of the militia that father told me about.
"For today our destination will be the Thondroril. You all should know the river connecting eastern and western plaguelands. We won't march to Hearthglen, as it would be an unnecessary detour on our trip. Time is of the essence and we can't allow too many hold-ups." Bermoth shortly pauses, "We will set up camp at the river. There will be no opportunity to rest any earlier because of the wild beasts and the undead within the vicinity of Andorhal. The possible enemies will therefore be most likely remarkably ferocious and of great numbers. If you value your life you should handle any possible contact - with or without combat - with utmost care!" I know it is his duty to tell us such things but I somehow feel treated like an idiot by that guy telling me that these things are dangerous. I can hardly imagine how anybody of us standing here does not know any of this. It's the usual drill after all.
"If you get wounded, search the attention of one of our clerics immediately!" And there he goes again.
"Now, we want to reach the Thondroril before nightfall! So get moving! Four of the mercenaries in front, followed up by five of our warriors. Apprentices and clerics into the middle of the group, the rest of the men watch our backs."
Corren is one of the four mercenaries up in front which makes it hard for me to talk to him for now. I guess that will have to wait until we rest them. We will definitely need a few hours to get to the river talking very optimistically. Because of the great number of people this will all take only that much longer. And we also need to be careful not to attract the attention of the undead inhabitants of Andorhal or the fields and farms around the city, just as Bermoth mentioned. Although I doubt that we can avoid that at all. And that these creatures don't sense any fear makes it even worse, for they will attack us even if they are clearly outnumbered and nonetheless one bite of one of the ghouls can spread the disease of undeath. A chill runs down my spine just from thinking about the fact.
With strong steps we leave the hillside of the monastery behind us and enter the forest. Just as always I try to stay in the middle of the crowd of apprentices. And how usual for members of the Scarlet Crusade they all don't talk too much, at least I figured this to be a general trait of the Crusade. But it seems the only people talking at all are the four mercenaries in our back. I guess they've known each other for some time now and are as close to friends as possible for such a profession.
I catch a glimpse of the sun shining through the tree-tops of the forest, yet it is dark as during the midst night time down here. This country suffered just about as much as the plaguelands themselves did.
We walk through the forest for about half an hour and the borders is only drawing closer. It shouldn't be that far away everything considered. How the woods already start lightening up, presenting the gloomy sky of the western plaguelands ahead of us.
I did not expect that a group this big would be able to travel this fast and as my assumptions are getting shattered with every step we take, we'll maybe even really be able to make it to the river until sundown.
Usually during night time it is a lot more dangerous to travel the plaguelands as not only the undead are, well more active when it is dark, but also the wolves start hunting. Actually you can often see wolves running through the scarcer parts of the woods at daytime, but they rarely attack anything but a critter without the shelter of darkness around them.
Every time I walk along this road I recall memories from my childhood. I often also think about that dream that I have regularly. The first few times I had it I was terrified, later it became more like something I was watching, rather than being in it myself. From time to time there are a few differences in the dream, yet nothing was ever like what had happened in reality. It's hardly anything but a farce of the truth. But occasionally I still wake up, drenched in sweat. However I did not have this dream that often anymore since I came to the Crusade and actually I hardly dreamed anything at all.
On its way to Andorhal the road we are following winds through a small valley created by the hills left and right slightly off to the side.
Quickly we pass through it, in fear of an ambush set up by the more intelligent undead or even just a couple of plagued bears in dire search for food and ease from their ongoing torment. From here on you can now already see the town hall of Andorhal, its clock tower rising high up into the air from in between all the other buildings surrounding it. Strangely enough that's not one of the structures lying in ruins now.
With every step we take the road leads us closer to the city. The moaning of the ghouls grows louder with every minute, making not only my heart restless. I am rather sure that they already spotted us some minutes ago. But something is holding them back. Everybody in the group is alarmed, senses are heightened.
The head of the mercenaries, Ray makes signs that tell us to be as quiet as possible yet also keep on moving. Getting through this area is quickly is imperative...
We don't see a single ghoul - we only hear them and that is exactly what's really disturbing about the situation. We don't know where it could come from, but all the moaning is sometimes accompanied by a strange dark rumbling.
It's not long before we reach the road crossing to Andorhal, the point where we are nearest to the city's ruins. Someone or something is in that city holding the undead back, gathering them there. I feel it, I... just know it somehow.
The road leads north-east from here on out, further and further away from the ruins. It's a certain relief not to be that close to the city anymore. It felt like a cold grasp reaching out for us. The breath of impending death grazing our necks, maybe only inches, seconds away.
I don't want to have to go there ever again.
I notice how Corren often takes a quick look towards me ever since we've first entered the plaguelands. He is still really concerned about me being well, right as I remember him. As I catch him turning around I just smile at him. He still cares about me like a big brother. Really nothing has changed during the past months. Can't say that's solely for the positive unfortunately.
The rest of our venture continued to go as smooth as before. Sunset is now drawing nearer and we are actually almost at the bridge connecting the eastern and the western part of the former kingdom of Lordaeron.
Two of the mercenaries started arguing at some point in time about the origin of the strange fog and the color of the sky in these areas. A bit macabre concerning the background but it's somehow fun to hear all those different stories and possible explanations. Although I am certain I will forget most of them already until tomorrow. One of them even said that the undead somehow evaporate into the air creating this strange colorful sky. I faintly laughed as I heard that coming up in the discussion behind me. Some of the other apprentices gave me a strange look for my quiet outbreak in the middle of the western plaguelands, but obviously they did not listen to the conversation going on right behind us. Probably they are thinking of their studies or maybe they are even constantly praying to the Holy Light. It's hard to tell what Whitemane taught to them.
It all went by so quickly. I can even hear the river flowing down the hills in front of us now. Clearly it isn't far anymore. I have to admit I am dying to get some rest as we didn't stop a single time. On the other hand this is the reason for us being so fast. Though if I'm truly honest..., I am too tired to be really grateful about this, maybe tomorrow evening when we have reached Tyr's Hand I will be able to fully appreciate what the mercenaries and the lieutenant did during the course these two days.
Finally, Ray gives the signal to stop for today. "We will set up camp here. The river is behind the small hill over there and the bridge, well gents, right in front of us."
Five of the apprentices and two of the warriors are send out to collect wood for a fireplace. The rest of our military team is helping three of the mercenaries to build up a few plain tents consisting of nothing much more than a hand full of sticks and old sheets.
Nightfall comes earlier upon us than expected. But the seven people that collected branches and other woods for the fire did a good job. We should have enough to keep it burning throughout the whole night.
Finally now everybody comes to a rest and Corren is off duty guarding the camp, so I can take my time to talk to him.
He happily takes a seat next to me right at the fire.
"I am really, really glad that you are alright, Marc." I smile at him for saying that, although I don't exactly know for myself if I am alright at all. I try to change the topic to something different as soon as possible.
I'll just ask him out of the blue. "Corren?" I start off with a simple question.
"What's on your mind, Marc?" He responds.
"You always wanted to be a part of the order of the Silver Hand. And I see you wearing this silver armor. What in the name of the Holy Light are you doing as a mercenary?" This was one of the first things that crept up into my mind as we were walking through the woods of Tirisfal. I really bugged me for most of our trip.
"Well, I wanted to become a member of the Silver Hand... that is true. And this is also the armor of the knights of the Silver Hand. It was presented to me by a former member. I don't want to name him, he now lives in private. He deserves his rest. He saw far too many battles during his time. But sadly, I had to experience that there aren't as many people that want to reform the order like I want to, as I thought at first. Me and my friend Stephan are probably the only ones. I met him when I was searching for the remainders of the order." He looks to the ground thinking for a second. "But now, we are on our way to the eastern plaguelands searching for a new organization called the Argent Dawn. They are supposed to have their headquarters there somewhere. And this field trip of yours was the perfect opportunity to get into the eastern areas without any of the greater dangers that travelling alone brings along and earn a few coins of gold as we go along." He forces a smile.
So his 'dream' also doesn't really go according to his plans.
"What about you, Marc?" He stares off into the fire. "How are things going with the Crusade. Why are you travelling to Tyr's Hand?"
I take my time and tell him everything about the Ashbringer and his fall. Plus I give him the reasons for me being on this trip. I leave out most of the part about Whitemane, I'm sure it would only agitate him.
Then we both fall silent for a moment or two, probably both thinking about Keira and wishing that at least she got what she desired so much as both our hopes slowly crumble with the dreams they once built.
Corren suddenly gets to his feet and starts heading away from the fireplace.
"Now Marc, you need to rest, tomorrow we will have to undergo a straining march through the hillside of the plaguelands! We cannot follow the road, because it would lead us directly through Corin's Crossing." His voice is gentle, but pressing. Something's off about it.
"But we have so much to talk about...?" I don't really know what's up with him right now, but something's wrong.
"I said rest, Marc. You need it! You are completely exhausted from today. Believe me, I can tell." He does not look into my eyes as he says these words. And before I could add anything else or respond at all he walks off to the mercenary guarding the horses and talks to him for a second, right after that they switch places.
I don't know what's going on inside of him, whether I said something wrong or not. But I can only imagine that he tries to play his role to the best of his abilities. He always was the one protecting others... and now? Now Keira's out of our reach, both of us not knowing how or even where she is. And as our dreams are falling apart before our very eyes we are also starting to lose hope for hers.
In the end I can only assume that he tries to desperately find answers to his own sorrow without having to involve me.
I stare into the fire for a few more minutes before I decide that I should rest just as he said. There was a lot of truth in his words after all...
Nothing left to do but to look for an open space in one of the tents. It's too dark, I can't see a thing. But after stumbling to one of the bigger tents for the apprentices I notice an open space and squeeze myself in between the people already lying here.