The weather was stormy. It was horrible, because none of us wanted to be out in it, but there was little else we could do, so we trudged along in the mud and rain. Prince kept tossing his head, his ears flat, moving as though he wanted nothing more than to buck me off his back.

We had been on the road for two days. We'd been all right when we had set off from Undercity, but as soon as we had crossed into the Western Plaguelands, things had turned bad, as I'd known they would. They always did when the Scourge was involved.

There were fifty-one of us making our way towards Hearthglen, which had been, and still was, a bastion for the Light. The headquarters for the Argent Dawn were all the way at Light's Hope Chapel in the eastern part of the Plaguelands, but that would have been going into the heart of Scourge territory: suicide with only the small team I had with me.

We began to see a change in the landscape, where it went from decaying and brown to something that resembled green. Pretty soon, Prince put his head down and started to graze, neighing softly.

"We're close," I said, although I didn't have to say it. The trees and grass here were much healthier and alive. I turned around, and just ten yards behind me, I saw just how different things were there, and what the Scourge had done to an area that had been full of life.

"Painful to see, isn't it?" Hamu asked me. "What they did to this land."

I nodded, "The Scourge isn't known for keeping anything alive. It destroys everything it touches." I kicked Prince into a canter, and we began to move again. I knew that some of us wanted to linger here, but we wouldn't be safe until we reached Hearthglen.

There were still pockets of undead in this vitalized area of what had been Northern Lordaeron. We fought two such pockets within two hours of each other, setting their remains to ash to try and preserve the nature there as much as possible. In a couple of areas, I noticed that death was already beginning to spread.

"We're going to need the Cenarion Circle to work with these patches first, to see whether they can slow the decay."

We reached Hearthglen just before nightfall, the sunset looking spectacular with its light hitting the buildings at just the right angle.

Until recently, Hearthglen had belonged to the Scarlet Crusade, and we would have never been able to approach it without being turned into corpses. But Tirion Fordring had recently taken it back, turning it into an Argent Dawn outpost following the death of his son Taelan.

"What happened to Taelan?" a shaman asked me as I related this fact to the group.

"The Scourge happened, as far as we know. Taelan was killed and raised as one of the Lich King's death knights. Tirion now leads the Knights of the Silver Hand, and spends his time here and at Light's Hope Chapel, fighting the Scourge as he goes. The stories they say about him remind me of what I used to hear about Uther the Lightbringer." I sighed, "There's been too much death."

Soldiers of the Argent Dawn saw us coming, and, after some questioning, allowed us to go through. "Lord Fordring is inside," he said. "I don't know whether he'll allow any Forsaken into the ranks of the Argent Dawn, but it's possible."

Possible indeed. He greeted us formally, with a frown on his face. I could tell that he was wary of us, which I could understand. These days, one couldn't trust anybody anymore. I placed the banner of the Undercity on his table.

"And what can the Argent Dawn do for Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, I wonder?"

"It's more like what we can do for you. We've been fighting the Scourge for years, just as you have been." I said.

"And yet you're coming to me now. Why?"

"Because, as I'm sure you've noticed, there has been a tremendous increase in Scourge activity. The Dark Lady is worried about what this means. We all are."

"So you want to join the Argent Dawn because of this?"

"We want to join forces so that we can attack the Scourge on two different fronts" I wanted to mention that the Scarlet Crusade was impeding our movements from the Scarlet Monastery, but that wouldn't go over well, so I kept quiet on that point.

"And what about the fact that Sylvanas is also raising the dead?"

I gulped. "She's raising them before the Scourge can. The Forsaken still have their own will, and a fierce desire to see the Scourge eliminated once and for all. Sylvanas doesn't kill anybody just to turn them into Forsaken."

"Not yet, anyway." He looked at all of us assembled there, a mix of races from all over the Horde, all dressed in black robes with the Undercity crest embroidered on them. He shook his head, "I must be getting soft in my old age, but I will allow you to pass the trials to get into the Argent Dawn. They won't be easy, and you'll have to fight some of the Scourge that roam the clear part of the land. Are you up for it?"

"We've already killed some of them," said Hamu. "Two pockets, of... how many were there?"

"Thirty each," I replied.

"Impressive." Tirion looked at me. "I've heard of you, Captain Everstone. To be honest, I'm very happy that you came to me. To have the woman known as Blackfire joining the Argent Dawn is an honor."

I smiled and bowed my head, "The honor is all mine."

"It's a pity that we ended up on separate sides of the war, and that you didn't join the Alliance. I know of a lot of people who would have been happy to help you overcome the grief you felt when Ranger-General Windrunner fell."

I cleared my throat, "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say."

"The anniversary's coming up soon, isn't it?"

"In a couple of months, yes," I said to him.

"Well, come on. I'll show you to the training quarters where you will all be until your induction into the Argent Dawn. I understand that you've fought against the Scourge before, and against the Burning Legion too?"

"Most of us just came back from Outland last week," I answered.

"And you're already here. That's dedication. You didn't want to give yourself a break?"

"The way I understand it, my lord, the more breaks we take, the more people the Scourge can kill and raise for its own army. We can't afford to rest now. We have to strike while the iron's hot, and not give themthe chance to regroup."

"Spoken like a true soldier, Captain. I think you will do very well here. I suppose that you will want to take some of my people back to the Undercity to fight the Scourge in Tirisfal Glades?"

"If possible, although I understand how stretched you've been. But the Banshee Queen recently had to send other troops to Outland when she told us to come home."

"Why would she ask you to come back, if she sent other troops there?"

"Because we are the First Magi Corps of Undercity, and we're trained to fight the Scourge."

The barracks we were put in weren't exactly big, but were sufficient for our needs. Since the Forsaken who were with us didn't sleep or eat, they simply put their things away and left us, going to familiarize themselves with the place. The rest of us went to the mess hall to get something to eat, finding that the food wasn't altogether bad. The people were friendly, if guarded because we had come from Undercity.

"What does a banshee want with us?"

"Maybe she wants to make sure we don't kill her and her people?"

I got to my feet, "You are aware of what happened to her, I presume?"

Everyone looked at me, the whispers dying down.

"You know that she fought and died for her homeland? And Arthas raised her for it and turned her into a banshee. It's a story that was repeated throughout Quel'Thalas and Lordaeron. And what we want is to see the Scourge gone. We want Arthas dead."

"We understand why you want him dead, Captain," said a man. "But it seems hard for me to believe that a bunch of undead –."

"Those undead remember everything that the Scourge did to them. Everything. What they forced them to do after they'd been killed and raised… they broke free from the Scourge and vowed to end it. They fight every single day in Tirisfal Glades to eradicate the Scourge from their lands. Does that mean nothing to you?"

"My brother was raised by the Scourge," said someone. "He was a good man, he was. And when he was raised, he was nothing like himself. I wish he were really dead. How could anybody want the Forsaken alive?"

"They're good people," I told them. "People who remember their past and their traditions, and who are trying to make a new life for themselves in Lordaeron. The only thing they're asking is for a chance to help get rid of the ones who turned them into this."

"You really care about them?"

"When I came back to Sylvanas, the Forsaken accepted me, no questions asked. They could have sent me away, but they didn't. They respect life more than you will ever know, and while some of the ones who were raised suffered irreparable brain damage, most of them are good in their way. You need to give them a chance."

"What about the ones who help Sylvanas raise the dead?"

"And what about the human necromancers who raise the dead for the Scourge? What's their excuse? Are you telling me that because of a handful of twisted people, we should eradicate the entire human race? Because I certainly don't think that. Just like I don't think that you should judge the Forsaken because they used to belong to the Scourge."

"Enough," said Tirion Fordring, walking in. "The Forsaken will take the test, the same as everybody else. If they pass, they will be welcome into this order."

I finished my dinner quickly, not wanting to stay around so many people who had doubts about the Forsaken.

"Captain, it's not worth getting upset over," said one of the two rogues who had followed us. His name was Jester, and he had been handsome in life. A slight vestige of that remained on his face, although it was blighted by his empty eye sockets.

"They don't care about your past and everything you've been through."

"Well, no. And why should they? To them, we're undead, and if I were in their shoes, I would probably not want to be anywhere near us. I don't know how you do it." He looked at me, "I mean, I know you love the Banshee Queen, and she cares about you, you're very lucky there. But she's right. You shouldn't be spending your time with corpses."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm spending my time with friends."

"I was one of the undead that invaded your home, you know."

My smile faltered, and I swallowed, "Your will was not your own, and I know that. I blame Arthas and the Scourge for what happened."

"But I knew what was happening. I knew what I was doing. I helped kill some people."

"I know, Jester. And I don't blame you personally."

"You should."

"Did you want to be doing that? Did you want to be there, destroying everything and helping to slaughter nine hundred thousand people?"

"No, of course not."

"Then you're not to blame for what happened. You were all but mindless." I put my hand on his bony shoulder before walking away from him.

We all began training the following day. Since most of us had just returned from Outland, it didn't take us long to get into the rhythm of things, and after a week, we were deemed ready to begin the tests.

The first test consisted in besting some hardened members of the Argent Dawn in hand-to-hand combat, while "trying not to kill them". I had no problem with that, able to disarm my opponent in three moves and bring him down to his knees. I repeated this three times until I was told that I could move on to something else: magic.

For the next week, I worked on various tests within Hearthglen. From brewing potions to setting fires, I had no problem with anything they asked me to do for them. Finally, it was time for me to fight the Scourge.

"There's a pocket of ten undead minions over there," said Lieutenant Deston Carver, one of the most experienced people in Hearthglen. "We've isolated them from the rest of the pack, so you shouldn't have any problems with them."

It seemed simple enough, in theory, but I knew the Scourge undead. Most of them were mindless, but a few of them possessed the abilities that they had in life, and I found that to be the case here. There were two skeletal mages who came to life when I killed three minions in one strike. I had a rough time of it when they came at me together, using all the magic at their disposal. But I bested them.

That is, until they began to rise again.

"What the…"

I felt the dark magic surrounding them just as I was about to set fire to the remains. There was a necromancer nearby. I heard shouts in the distance, and knew that the members of the Argent Dawn had noticed this as well, but they wouldn't reach me in time.

I cast half a dozen fire spells in quick succession, incinerating the corpses on the ground and turning to face my new enemy.

It was a skeleton, draped in a dripping blue robe that was caked in mud and what appeared to be gore. Its wide maw grinned at me as it cast a spell that very nearly shattered the protective barrier I'd placed around myself.

It said something to me in Gutterspeak, the language of the undead, which Sylvanas had taught me. Its voice was clotted and dark, and I knew that it would give me nightmares for days to come.

"Come, my child… come to me… come and float beside me so that we may tear this land asunder."

I gave a cry in Thalassian and pulled out my spellblade, feeling my power increasing. Fire crackled in my hands, black flames that seared my fingers as they twisted around them and around my wrists, like reins. I released them, and they hit the necromancer in the head, igniting its robe. It didn't stop it for long, but I was already casting another spell.

Arcane magic flowed through me. I knew that if someone were to look at me, that I would appear as though I were glowing from within. Bursts of energy began to explode above the two of us, as light magic countered darkness.

We both struck at the same time.

I felt as though my world had been shattered as I flew through the air, searing pain sizzling down my abdomen. I just had a glimpse of the necromancer as it was blasted to pieces before I crashed back down onto the ground with a scream.

"By the Light, there she is!"

"Is she alive?"

"Faith!"

"Captain!"

"She's moving!"

"Faith, say something!"

"Don't get close to her! She could have turned!"

I struggled to my feet, holding my hand over the magical wound on my belly, "I didn't turn, you fools. But I might if nobody heals me." I staggered and Hamu caught me.

"That was amazing," he said. "I've never seen anything like that."

I smiled at him, "I got lucky."

"Lucky?" cried Tirion, running over. "That was miraculous. I have no idea how you got out of that alive. Here, don't move." He put his hands over my wound, and I saw the Light emanating from his hands, healing me from within. "You should rest until tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lord Tirion."

"I am sorry, Faith. Had I known that a necromancer was nearby, I wouldn't have ever let you go out there alone."

"I've fought necromancers before. And I did get lucky with this one. He really could have killed me."

"I was already wondering what we were going to tell Lady Sylvanas if you'd been killed and raised by the Scourge. I don't think she would take it well at all."

No… Sylvanas definitely wouldn't take that kind of news well. I didn't like thinking about what her reaction would be to something like that. "You'd have to make sure to bring a battalion with you, because she would kill you for bringing her that kind of news. But everything's fine, except that I can smell some Scourge nearby, so we're going to want to take this little gathering elsewhere, unless you want to fight them." I looked at the Forsaken mages, raising an eyebrow.

They leapt into action, just as the Scourge shuffled over from behind some trees to the west of the path we were on. The battle was short-lived and didn't end well for the Scourge as my mages conjured little fires for each of them.

"You all use fire against them?"

I nodded, "Any necromancer can raise a skeleton, even if it's been badly damaged and has already been killed once. But ashes can't be raised into anything. If I could, I would set fire to all of the Plaguelands and see what came out of that, but I'm not powerful enough to do something like this."

"Maybe that's a good thing. The undead could go underground, and who knows what they would do there."

"Create necromancy schools like they did in Andorhal and Scholomance. In point of fact, we should try to stamp those out."

"There are thirty thousand of them in Andorhal. We don't have the manpower for this."

"But we have to do something. We can't let them get to us like that." I quickly explained to him what we had done in the Ghostlands, and he appeared impressed, but not willing to risk so many of his people for what he deemed was a suicide mission.

"If I can come up with a plan, would you at least be willing to discuss it?" I asked him.

"Certainly."

We went back to Hearthglen, where I was ordered to go to bed and sleep. But I couldn't sleep. I wanted to find a way to get the Scourge out of Andorhal. I was sure that there was a way. It would probably destroy the city, but we could rebuild that, couldn't we? The Scourge had pretty much destroyed it anyway.

For the next few days, more and more people from Undercity passed the Argent Dawn tests. Most soldiers there were surprised, but began to respect us as we showed them our experience.

"See, because they were members of the Scourge, they know their inner workings. It's an advantage that we need to exploit." I handed Lord Tirion a chart of the Scourge command structure, as Jester had explained to me the previous evening. "I realize that the people themselves change, but the command structure, we've noticed, has remained the same since the formation of the Scourge."

I also handed him a map.

"What's this?"

"The location of Scourge strongholds other than Andorhal, Scholomance, and Stratholme, as well as the location of the forces who are working against the Scourge."

"Why are you so dedicated to see the eradication of the Scourge? I mean, I'm very happy about it, and this map especially is going to be very helpful, but you see to have a particular hatred for Arthas."

"Him killing and raising the women I love accounts for my feelings towards him," I said shortly.

"You love her that much. Even now that she's turned into a banshee."

"I will always love her. Always. And she's given me reasons to hate her, but I can't. She was my everything. Still is, really."

"It must be something, to love someone so much. I'd be terrified of feeling that way about anybody."

I began to laugh, "It's not always easy. She can be a real witch sometimes. But when she was alive… everybody loved her."

"But she loved you."

I nodded, smiling, "I didn't know it for the longest time. And I didn't realize that she knew how I felt about her, although I know now that I was very obvious when it came to my feelings towards her. My sister once told me that my face would light up like a thousand stars when she came around."

Lord Tirion smiled back at me, "I believe you. Your face is lighting up now as you talk about her… and now you're actually blushing."

I recovered as well as I could, and told him a few other tidbits about myself and Sylvanas. Talking about her made me miss her, and I began to count the days until I was finally with her again.