Chapter 12:

The Scarlet Crusade was destroyed, it last crumbling foundations crushed underneath the feet of our ghouls. The few that survived now call themselves 'Scarlet Onslaught' and are sailing to the frozen wastes, directly into our open arms. They say the Holy Light is guiding them there. Maybe this 'Holy Light' has finally turned insane too, I wonder.

Either way they will be dealt with later after they have arrived in Northrend.

But now the eyes of the Lich King have shifted his sight to another target. He spoke his final command and all attention is turned to Light's Hope. The armies of the Scourge pour down the hill to Browman's Mill gathering in a fair distance to the once fair Chapel.

The final battle for the plaguelands approaches and we are destined to win. They have no chance, not even for glory in their defeat. Our numbers reach into the tens of thousands, the necromancers on the hills close by continuously summoning large fleshgiants from the frozen heart of Icecrown. Creatures similar to the smaller abominations yet with a more humanoid look to them, overshadowing them in strength as well. I don't know if they even have a hundred warriors at the chapel to defend. Concerning our last battle this should be as easy as cherry picking.

Especially as we all commit to the charge lead by Highlord Mograine. You can almost feel how the corrupted Ashbringer on his back is happily awaiting the fight and bloodshed along to it.

Koltira, Bloodbane, Thassarian and I are sitting on our deathchargers close behind him, eagerly awaiting the command to strike.

The area around the sawmill is crowded with ghouls, all of them blabbering strange incomprehensible things. Many of them are still wearing the uniform of the Scarlet Crusade..., sweet, sweet irony.

Everything turns quiet the second Highlord Darion Mograine lifts his left hand. Even the ghouls fall silent and I ask myself if they actually listen or if they are only 'shut down' by the master.

"The Argent Dawn stands defiantly against us at Light's Hope Chapel. They dare to oppose the Scourge and for that reason alone they must be destroyed!" His voice is loud and clear, bursting down upon us like thunder in a storm. The few minions with a mind of their own cheer as he makes a first pause. Like a real leader, he is able to reach his underlings with ease. Orbaz and I are probably the only ones that remain quiet for now.

"The mighty armies of the Lich King stand at the ready as the final battle for the plaguelands approaches." He takes a deep breath and then shouts out with all his blighted soul put behind "Today you will ascend into the immortal realm of Scourge heroes!"

This time even Bloodbane and I can't hold our composure and begin cheering.

"Are you prepared, death knights?"

The loud yells from most of the minded-ones unite into a clear 'Yes, we are!'

"So be it then. Soldiers of the Scourge, stand ready! Prepare to unleash your relentless fury upon the Argent Dawn!" Now he is addressing to all the undead in the area. "The sky weeps at the glorious devastation of these lands! Soon, Azeroth's futile tears will rain down upon us! Death knights of Acherus, the death march begins! Soldiers of the Scourge, minions of darkness: hear the call of the Highlord! RISE! The skies turn red with the blood of the fallen! The Lich King watches over us, minions! Leave only ashes and misery in your destructive wave!"

The ghouls moan loudly as Mograine points towards the Chapel. This is the order to attack. Freed from the bonds of this frail unison I am the first to charge at Lights Hope with my deathcharger.

I will do as you have ordered my king. I shall offer you many souls today. I will make you proud!

Directly behind me follows the Highlord, catching up swiftly. The moment his horse charged, everyone else started going after us. To my surprise these ghouls can easily keep up with our steeds, they even manage to overtake us. Their crooked and wretched sight truly is treacherous. Even the fleshgiant amongst them, who was the last to start moving, is gaining ground due to its enormous size it easily travels about as fast as the ghouls.

"Scourge armies approaching!" I can hear them yell. "Stand fast, brothers and sisters! The Light will prevail!" Their own insanity carried proudly within their ranks they prepare their last line of defense against us.

I slow down a bit so that Mograine can catch up with me and a few more of the faster geists and ghouls overtake us. The defenders of the Light are readily standing on the small hill the chapel was built upon, waiting for us to arrive, the inevitable death caressing the battle worn bodies. They are at least more than I had expected: a few hundreds in total. Still not even close to enough to defeat us.

Jumping off my steed and dismissing it to the realm of shadows, I plunge myself head first into the fray. I won't be needing it here. It would only be in the way and obstruct my movements.

I have already decided how I want to call the sword my master gave to me an hour ago.

Armageddon shall be its name and with it I will show the Argent Dawn true despair! What a fine occasion to let it drink its first sips of blood.

After finding a name for the blade, it seems that it became slightly lighter. Since then I am able to lift it with a single hand, but I still use two hands to strike nevertheless. Though I guess that's only a matter of proficiency with such a mighty weapon. Once a blow is set into motion, nothing can stop it. Everything that is not cut by the sharp edge will surely be smashed by the momentum the huge blade carries along.

The first defenders of the Light come charging towards me, answering to our battle cries with their own. That poor bastard up front... he tries to block my first strike with his hammer. His little weapon is torn apart as well as his arms are, drawing the first blood of the fight.

The range of the sword is incredible. It is easy to hit someone who is standing more than three feet away from you and still it offers sufficient mobility in closer quarters. Mastering a weapon like this to its full extent will surely increase my capabilities on many fields.

From the corner of my eyes I can see Koltira with his new weapon jumping around like a madman. The blade cuts easily through the thickest layers of armor. His weapon seems to be the sharpest of ours complementing the way he fights, despite it looking more like dancing than anything else.

Honestly, with every minute I spend together with that elf, his people lose more and more of my sympathy.

"Spare no one!" The Highlord cries out as a member of the Argent Dawn falls to the corrupted blade of the Ashbringer. Eagerly it tastes the blood of his foes.

Even though you know the weapon you wield is nothing more than a piece of metal you still come to look at it as an entity. You treat it with a certain respect. You even begin calling it by its name. It becomes someone who is close to you, closer than anybody else. It becomes a true friend you rely on.

And I'm sure Armageddon will be terrific 'friend' for me too as already one warrior after the other falls to my blade. In the hectic of battle I taste the blood myself as a few spurts hit my face. Bloodbane is close by also fighting like a madman. His eyes are widened, an insane smile shines on his face as he crushes bones and cuts open his enemies. Both of us would have to be careful not to come into the other one's path today.

The members of the Argent Dawn fall, hundreds of them are dead already, torn apart by our weapons, by the teeth and the claws of the ghouls fighting around us.

"What? ... Power... wanes..." I see how the Highlord is tumbling as his words tear me from the trance that is bloodshed. What is happening there? He tries to strike down another foe. "The Ashbringer defies me... Minions! To my aid!" Ghouls come rushing towards him and attack the warriors surrounding Mograine as he falls, dropping the blade. "You will do as I command! I am in control!" He yells at his sword as he seemingly turns unable to pick it up again. Why is the Ashbringer suddenly acting like this? Isn't it one of the mightiest weapons in the ranks of the Scourge? What is going on... what is happing to it?

"My... I cannot strike...?"

A faint glow can be seen from the distant woods taking all of us by surprise. Even Orbaz Bloodbane lowers his weapon for a moment as everybody turns their heads fearing what might appear to banish the darkness we carry. Is this the return of the light..?

"You cannot win, Darion!" It is but the voice is that of an old man that follows. As he emerges from the trees his body is engulfed by the brightly shining rays of light, yet you can still make out that he was once a strong and proud fighter. It is the golden armor he is wearing that is emitting such a strong glow, blinding us as if he is the Light himself. His hair and the beard on the other hand are already completely white.

"Tirion Fordring?" Our Highlord asks in disbelief.

Bloodbane seems to know this man too for some reason as he summons his unholy steed in an instance and flees off to the south like the coward he is deep inside. A few members of the Argent Dawn want to chase after him, but his mount proves to be too fast.

Fordring rides on his steed directly through the masses of undead to the front of the chapel. The ghouls back off as he passes them, they even fear to only touch him.

Paralyzed by his sight, all of them are cut down easily by the warriors of the Argent Dawn that are still standing.

"To the Chapel with them!" The old man calls out.

And just as his words trail off in the distance strange rays of light suddenly engulf Thassarian, Koltira and me. All three of us drop our weapons as we are pulled by an incredible force towards Fordring. We are smashed onto the ground in front of him with an unknown pressure resting upon our shoulders. I manage to push myself up a little, but all I can do for now is to kneel before Fordring.

As Tirion's eyes look upon the Highlord, he is also forced to his knees whilst all the other death knights are pinned to the ground with their whole body.

Unable to defend ourselves and at the mercy of the Argent Dawn it takes only seconds until Mograine has to announce our defeat.

"Stand down death knights. We have lost... The Light... This place... No hope left for us..." I would have never expected to hear something like this from him.

It is then Tirion Fordring who opens his mouth to speak up.

"Have you learned nothing boy? You have become all that your father fought against. Like that coward, Arthas, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the darkness... the hate it breeds. Feeding upon the misery of those you tortured and killed..!" My whole body aches as I am still fighting against the pressure pinning me down to the ground. "Your master knows exactly what lies beneath this Chapel. It is why he dares not show his face! He has sent you and your death knights to meet their doom, Darion!"

The... our master sent us to our own end?

"What you are feeling right now is the anguish of a thousand lost souls! Souls that you and your master have brought here! The light will tear you apart!"

"Save your breath, old man. It might be the last you ever draw!" Mograine announces as he fights against the same pressure as I do. He gathers all the strength he has left and stands up, throwing off the despair holding on to him. But the fight we brought onto the chapel was indeed lost and it was his weapon that decided to end it for us.

The Ashbringer in his hands starts to glow in a bright golden light all of a sudden. The image of a man with a sword in his hand forms behind us. That man... I have seen him before. Could this really be? It is the weapon he carries in his hand that leaves no doubt. This is the real Ashbringer - Alexandros Mograine, his soul has finally left the corrupted blade!

"My son! My dear, beautiful boy." The voice in which he speaks is faint, a bit hollow even, as if he is far away, distant to this world.

"Father?" Darion cries out in disbelief, his body trembling. "Argh..., what is..." He falls to his knees again as another almost completely grey figure slowly forms before our eyes. This... I had seen this person before too... This is Darion Mograine when he was younger? "Father you have returned! You have been gone a long time... Father! I thought..."

The voice of Alexandros is calm and soothing. "Nothing could keep me away from my home and family." With every word he speaks I see the images of Alexandros Mograine standing in a large hall in front of an altar more clearly. I see the bright glow of the mighty weapon on his back. I can almost listen to his voice preaching to the crowd as it had once a long time ago.

"Father! I wish to join you in the war against the undead! I can sit idle no longer! I want to fight at your side!" Darion announces with the lighthearted voice of a child.

"Darion Mograine, you are barely of age to hold a sword, let alone battle the undead hordes of Lordaeron! I couldn't bear losing you. Even only the thought pains me..." Alexandros responds with a lone tear in his eye.

"If I die, father, I would rather be on my feet, standing in defiance against the undead legions! If I die, father, I die with you!" His voice is clear and filled with determination. He is sure of what he speaks.

With a smile Alexandros responds to him.

"My son, there will come a day when you will command the Ashbringer and, with it, mete justice across this land. I have no doubt that when that day finally comes, you will bring pride to our people and that Lordaeron will be a better place because of you. But, my son, that day is not today. Do not forget..."

It is in this moment that a black portal of convulsing shadows in constant motion appears behind the vision of Alexandros and his son.

"Touching..." The voice of the Lich King fills the air together with a chill running down to the core of your bones. "He is mine now..." He steps out of the portal and as the blade of Frostmourne touches the back of Alexandros he is sucked into the weapon.

The image of the younger Mograine also disappears, but back to its host instead.

I gaze at the scene and try to comprehend what is happening here. It proves hard to think anything at all.

"You have betrayed me! You betrayed all of us, you monster! FACE THE MIGHT OF MOGRAINE!" The Highlord cries out and charges blindly at his former master. Yet the Lich King doesn't even bother starting a counter, he only repels the attack which sends Darion flying off to the side and crashing into the woods.

"Pathetic..." He lifts Frostmourne and points it at Tirion Fordring. "You were right, Fordring. I did send them to die here. Their lives are meaningless, but yours..."

It..., it couldn't be, but my own ears. It was the truth? He sent us here to meet our own death. He sent us to die just to lure out an old man? My hand touches the small bag at my belt, already running away again from the truth only to something worse. I went through all this to be sold to my own demise by him without batting an eye?

Anger... hatred... despair... sorrow... all these feelings rise up in me, fueling the wrath of ages. But Armageddon lies next to the feet of Arthas. It is impossible to get to it from here, if I could only reach it.

"How simple it was to draw the great Tirion Fordring out of hiding. You've left yourself exposed, paladin. Nothing will save you now!"

Jets of shadow magic shoot from Frostmourne to Tirion. They hit him and immediately spread all over his old weakened body sending him to his knees grasping for air.

One of the warriors of the Argent Dawn that are also watching the scene takes initiative and shouts "ATTACK!"

Everybody who could still move rushes blindly towards Arthas...

And with a sole wave of his hand all of them are knocked back, several even die.

"APOCALYPSE!" He announces his victory only seconds away.

The shadows try to get a good hold of Tirion Fordring. He will crush him and every bone in his living body.

But it's not over yet. A faint voice from the side speaks up again.

"This day... is not today...! TIRION! The blade!" Mograine shouts out and throws the Ashbringer to Fordring. The moment Tirion grabs the sword Darion collapses, not sure whether he is still alive or dead for good. I feel so useless... I can't do a thing.

Only seconds after the Ashbringer came to the hands of Fordring, the glow of the blade grows stronger. The wan green slowly perishes as more and more pure light flows through the corrupted sword. I don't believe it!

The Ashbringer is fully cleansed as Tirion becomes awash with light, also disrupting the spell of the Lich King.

"ARTHAS!" His voice now shows no sign of anger, but purity instead.

"What is this?" The Lich King takes a step back, unsure of what has happened.

"Your end." Tirion replies short, but without any anger, before he charges at him and strikes.

The Lich King is hardly able to block the attack.

"Impossible... This isn't over yet! The next time we meet, it won't be on holy ground, paladin!" He announces before he quickly leaves through the dark portal behind him, closing it immediately after he had stepped through. He left us behind for good. He left us to die...

The pressure on my body now dissolves. The will to fight against them completely broken I slowly walk over to my weapon and pick it up under the wary eyes of the Argent Dawn. The gesture for them to calm them down not enough I fix the sword to my back and stand down.

"Rise Darion!" I hear Fordring call out, but I don't listen to what they talk about.

I instead focus on something I had just now noticed. Memories they return, slow but steadily they come flowing back to me, breaking free from their chains as the bond to my former master seems to be shattered.

I even know my name... I know all of the names I had over the time. I can remember Corren and what happened to him. I remember that I was part of the Scarlet Crusade. And I come to realize that I probably killed some of my former fellow apprentices today. I remember Keira and what she used to tell me about the dragon flights.

And it extends even further... I remember the months after dying a first time. I remember Darnys and Calystea.

So much pressure and so much loose information all of a sudden. My head starts aching.

I open the small bag I took from Keira's body. Inside there is the ring I slid off her finger, two things that look like fangs and a scale in a bright red color. Thinking about the possibility alone that she wanted to give this scale to me makes me feel sick.

I want to cry like the frail child I once was but I can't. Not anymore.

I hear how Tirion shouts out loud. "The Argent Crusade comes for you, ARTHAS!"

"So too do the Knights of the Ebon Blade... While our kind has no place in this world, we will fight to bring an end to the Lich King. THIS I VOW!" Mograine adds forming a new bond to bind us into this existence.

And only naturally it comes easy for me to focus my hatred on Arthas. Everything that had happened was due to him. The death of my father and mother, my friends... my own... And now he wanted to sacrifice me too just to lure out one paladin.

But I don't really want to be part of the Ebon Blade or whatever Mograine called it, at least not like this.

Our former Highlord then turns to the rest of us death knights.

"Brothers and sisters! There will be no atonement for us. We are forever damned to walk the earth as monsters. While the Lich King may have lost his grip upon us, the specters of the past will forever haunt our memories!" He makes a short pause. And yes, they will for sure. "We have to make amends in the only way we know how: DEATH!" He raises his arm. "I ask you now to join me in Acherus as Knights of the Ebon Blade. Together we will destroy the Lich King and bring an end to the Scourge!"

I put the four items back into the bag again. The last thing that I turn in my hand is the red scale. The skin of my fingers that touches it almost seems to be alive again for a few seconds, feeling its texture.

I still want to shed a tear for what had happened to me, but on the other side I still had become stronger. And I believe that was what I had wished for, wasn't it?

As I look around me I spot only fools that call themselves death knights, fools that all want revenge for their own betrayal.

But I want vengeance for everything that Arthas had done to me, my family and my friends.

I vow to myself and the spirits of the ones I once loved that have now passed away:

Arthas will suffer! He will get what he deserves for everything he has done to me, to everyone!

It may be selfish, but it will be just.

I will be one to bring him to his knees, no matter what it takes of me.

I will be the one to take Frostmourne from his cold, lifeless fingers!