The Light's Crusade Page Two

Post by Hellborne

((Page Two, Part One: The Burning City and Paladin))

The thing about Stratholme is that it is divided by the Scarlet Crusade and the undead Scourge. This fact only complicated any attempt to infiltrate the burning city, especially if one entering was not aligned to the Crusade or the Scourge. So, what would be Daellin Lightheart’s brilliant idea to get inside to accomplish his desire for revenge and acquiring Dawncrier?

“We walk in through the front gate,” Daellin stated to Quinton as they stood on the bridge that would go into the city from the front.

“Look old man, I get it that you are some hero in terms of the Light, but clearly planning isn’t your strong suit. I think that maybe- he is already running in, isn’t he…” Quinton abruptly ended his thoughts on the matter when he noticed that his frail yet bold mentor was rushing headlong into the fray.

“Keep up boy!” Daellin called behind him as he sent a shock of Holy Light towards a lone skeleton mage that erupted into a rain of bones when the bolt of Light made contact. This alerted two other skeleton mages at the entrance of the city. The two undead magi casted bolts of ice that Daellin easily dodged. Quinton, somersaulting in the air, brought down Strongwill across the neck of one of the skeletons, severing the lowly Scourge. Daellin simply punched the other skeleton in its exposed ribcage.

“Hey skeleton,” Quinton called out to the still rolling head of his first kill in this quest, “don’t lose your head!” Daellin turned to Quinton and gave a not-at-all pleased expression.

“Three down, hundreds more to go, I hope you don’t run out of witty one liners,” Daellin told his apprentice.

The pair entered the once impressive King’s Square, now only a ruin and a shadow of its former glory, like the rest of Stratholme. The houses and stores that lined the sides of the road, once containing joyous families and vendors, now empty, save the occasional undead. Ahead, the pair of paladins noticed a patrol of three ghouls and a daunting Abomination. The Abomination, the size of an ogre, with guts spilling out of its stomach and armed with a large clever, was one of the most challenging beasts in the Scourge army.

“You get the big boy,” Daellin told Quinton as he ran forwards to meet the ghouls head on. Quinton, caught off guard and not wanting to tangle with a giant beast like the Abomination, charged reluctantly. Already, the older of the two had consecrated the ground, which resulted in the ghouls to reel in intense pain, but like the mindless creatures they were, tried to attack Daellin.

Quinton, meanwhile, dodged, rolled, and parried any blows his impressive enemy gave. Despite what the looming size of the undead suggested, the Abomination had impressive speed and celerity. There, an opening! Quinton swung Strongwill from the side to attack the beast’s exposed right arm. It was a direct hit, but the damage did not seem to harm the undead at all. “Oh, come on!” By this point, Quinton was backed into a corner, his adversary in front of him and a burning house behind him. The beast rose its clever for a final blow.

However, it stopped in mid-swing. Its eyes rolled back, and then the beast fell forward in a limp manner. The only reason it did not crush Quinton under its immense weight was that its head was wedged in the building behind him. However, some of its putrid guts and vile liquids did splatter onto Quinton.

“Coming, boy?” Daellin asked as he peaked from the side of the undead’s corpse. It was clear that Daellin finished the ghastly Abomination from behind. Quinton replied by wiping the pungent guts from his glorious armor, Lightbringer. Despite the green ectoplasm, the armor still shined gold. With that, the pair continued.

A few more patrols were between the paladins and Market Row. The few dozen skeletons, ghouls, zombies and the occasional banshee were dispersed with ease. It was the banshees and their shrill cries that disturbed Quinton the most. He had never faced one of these apparitions before, but had heard the shrill cries of them during cold nights in the Plaguelands. Meanwhile, it seemed that Daellin was in a trance, using Light spells to destroy the undead, but it seemed that his mind was elsewhere.

It feels like only like yesterday I was here, alongside Abbendis and the Crusade, purging Stratholme.

Another ghoul met its demise by a bolt of Light, burning its body to ash.

We came as noble and just men. We were the protectors of the Light in Lordaeron.

A skeleton was literally broken in half by Daellin’s hands, the distinct sound of bones cracking easily heard.

But we were all fooled. We were blind. Perhaps we were zealots, but that means little now!

A ghoul’s head was liberated from its body as Daellin pulled it off and tossed it aside.

Now, all I feel is revenge. I can feel you Saidan. I desire your death, and the Scarlet’s downfall!

“Daellin!”

Daellin broke from his blood trance and his deep thoughts to visually see that one of his hands was grasped around Quinton’s neck. Both were panting deeply from their battle, and perhaps Quinton more-so due to his present situation. Daellin quickly released his apprentice from his grip.

“I-I am sorry, lad. My vision was clouded…”

“Whatever happened to let the Light be your sight!”

“I know, lad, I know…”

“What is up with you? Something isn’t right.”

“We will discuss this later!”

With that last bit of outrage, the pair walked down the Market Row, completely void of Scourge. It was extremely eerie. After the intense battles just moments earlier, this rest was welcomed, yet it was worrisome. Daellin knew very well that this city was filled to the brim with undead. Quinton, meanwhile, was thinking over what just happened, not the battle against the undead, but rather his mentor.

What is up with him? I understand this is some vendetta mission and really likes his sword and all, but there is something more. His anger, his rage, it is unnerving. And he calls me brash. Hopefully he isn’t always like that in combat.

The answer to the question of why there were so little undead was answered as the two men walked out of Market Row and were beside the archway that led to the Scarlet Quarter. It was evident that the Crusade had cleared the area immediately outside of their stronghold. The two paladins of the Argent Dawn were hidden from the view of any Crusaders. Daellin slowly peaked around the corner of the archway to get a good look of the area.

It was nothing like he remembered. Last time he was here, the Baron Death Knight virtually annihilated the entire Scarlet taskforce, including High General Abbendis. It was here that Daellin had to abandon his countrymen in the Scarlet Basilica. He learned later that a handful of Scarlets from the original force survived, and reinforcements arrived to solidify their presence in the city. However, their original plan to take all of Stratholme was never realized. In a way, the death of Abbendis was in vain.

“So, uh, how outnumbered are we?” Quinton asked with hesitation to Daellin. Around the courtyard, a handful of Scarlet Crusaders patrolled the area. Though the Crusaders would be more formidable than the mindless Scourge, it was nothing that Quinton and Daellin could take on.

“It isn’t too bad, though it will be more difficult and-” Daellin stopped as he noticed one of the Crusaders. His face was so similar. Malor. Malor was part of the original attack force and the two knew each other very well. Daellin knew that it was entirely possible to see familiar, and at one time friendly, faces here. He just prayed that wouldn’t happen. But before he could finish his sentence, Malor and Daellin made eye contact. For a brief moment, the two just looked through, not at, each other.

“Intruders! To your defenses! For the Light!” Malor cried as he rallied his men. In an instant, dozens of Scarlets were organizing themselves.

“Damn!” Quinton swore, jumped from behind Daellin, and rushed down the archway into the fray. He had Strongwill raised and was already in a three-to-one battle. Not to be outdone, Daellin tossed a bolt of Light at one of the Crusaders, knocking her off her feet, unconscious. Quinton was more deadly as he swung a horizontal slash that cut through all three of his foes in their stomachs, ending their battle prematurely.

The battle raged for a few minutes. The Scarlets were dropping like flies as the two paladins used their talents to dispose of their enemies. Then, Daellin noticed that a well armed Crusader slowly approached him. “Daellin Lightheart. Glad you came back for us, commander.” It was none other than Malor.

“Malor,” Daellin spat out, “I am not your commander anymore.”

“Oh, I know, Saidan is. The true leader we never had. Abbendis, Mograine, all of them were weak. Long live Saidan Dathrohan!” Malor called out as he charged at Daellin. In response, Daellin conjured the Light into a shape of a hammer and brought it down on Malor. This stunned the oncoming Crusader for a few moments, giving time for Daellin to charge at his challenger.

The blow brought Malor to the ground with Daellin on top of him, fists ready to bring an onslaught of blows to the Crusader. “You are wrong! They were noble men! You are all blind because of Saidan! He betrayed us! He betrayed me!” Daellin yelled at Malor. A few moments passed, and then Malor’s expression grew in insanity. His eyes grew wide and his mouth opened and bellowed. The hysterical laughter grew in intensity overtime. Daellin, shocked and disturbed, slowly rose and backed away from the Scarlet with caution. Malor stayed in his position, not getting up.

Quinton had already finished off the remaining Scarlet Crusaders. The rest of the Crusaders were far easier to finish off then previously expected. The pair met in the middle of the courtyard in the middle of the brief battle. Blood was stained on Quinton’s armor and sword while Daellin was still shocked due to Malor’s laughter. Something just wasn’t right.

“So, you let that one live? Tell that to all the others,” Quinton joked as he looked at the bodies, dead or dying, around him. It was truly a gruesome sight. Quinton’s rage against all manner of undead did not translate to the living, even if it was the Scarlet Crusade. Nonetheless, he was victorious.

“Something is off. The Crusade wouldn’t go down that easily. And Malor…” Daellin muttered as he, too, looked around. “In any case, we have to go in the Basilica, Saidan, and Dawncrier, is surely in there.”

“Now why would I burden you that much, Daellin Lightheart, my good friend! We can catch up on old times here instead!”

The mentor and apprentice turned their view to the marble steps of the blood red Scarlet Basilica where a lone figure stood.

Saidan.

His long white mane remained motionless in the dead air as his face was devoid of any signs of aging at all, despite being in his fifties; it was like he hasn’t aged for sometime. He was adorned in a large set of red plate armor, typical for high ranking Scarlets, and had a sword sheathed at his side. It was Dawncrier itself!

Daellin noticed this, too, and anger boiled. “How-how dare you!” He roared in rage as he conjured the Light in orbs in both of his hands, prepared for the long overdue battle.

Saidan laughed it off and replied, “How dare me? Oh this?” He pulled Dawncrier out and twirled it around for a bit for his own amusement and to tease Daellin. “I think the question should be how dare you! How dare you try to betray our order!”

“Liar! You brought the Crusade down a path without the Light! This is all because of you!”

“Indeed, it was all me,” Saidan laughed, “As it was supposed to be. With the deaths of Mograine and Abbendis, this Crusade has become my own beautiful creation. You could have been a worthy pawn, Daellin. It is a shame you have to die.”

Post by Hellborne

((Part Two: Revelations))

Without hesitation, Daellin Lightheart charged Saidan Dathrohan, the man who betrayed him and the Crusade not too long ago. Quinton, with his sword Strongwill raised high, was right behind his mentor. As the pair closed in on Saidan, who was still standing on the marble staircase that led into the Scarlet Basilica, the dastardly Grand Crusader smirked and narrowed his beady black eyes down on his oncoming targets. In a flash, before either paladin of the Argent Dawn could do anything, Saidan punched Daellin square in the chest, sending him flying back. Quinton paused at the impressive speed of Saidan, but this only sealed his fate.

With the celerity he just demonstrated, Saidan drew Dawncrier and, using the broad side of the sword, crashed it across Quinton’s body, sending the young man falling down the stairs and landing face up on the ground. Despite his glorious and well designed armor, the pain in his arm and body was immeasurable. The Grand Crusader snickered and asked, “And who might you be, boy?”

Quinton struggled to get to his feet while replying sarcastically, “They call me the Harbinger of Death,”

“Not impressed at all,” Saidan muttered as he casually walked down the stairs. With Quinton struggling to get to his feet and Daellin on the ground several feet away, it looked like Saidan had already delivered victory for himself. However, after several attempts, Quinton stood up, somewhat ready to attack Dathrohan once more.

“Don’t do it, Quinton!” Daellin pleaded as he tried to pull his aged and virtually broken body up

“Oh, yes, don’t do it, child!” Saidan teased once more before, like a lightning strike, jumped towards his target. Quinton was able to raise Strongwill to defend himself just as Dawncrier crashed upon it. The momentum of the blow caused Quinton to stagger and lose his sword. The young paladin tried his best to pick up his sword from the ground before the next attack.

But he was too slow. Saidan slashed Dawncrier across Quinton’s stomach. The Lightbringer armor absorbed most of the blow again, but the force of the blow caused a crack in the armor to form and gash Quinton’s body, blood seeping down his body. The cry of pain from Quinton was deafening. With one last burst of laughter, Saidan kicked Quinton in the chest, sending the young man sprawling to the ground, face down.

“Looks like your friend here is just as weak as you are, Lightheart,” Saidan spoke as he leisurely walked over to the still crackling Malor and slashed his neck nearly in half. “He served his worth,” Saidan commented. He paced over to Daellin, who was still on the ground trying to get up.

“You bastard!” Daellin roared as he continued to pull himself up. He called upon the Light for assistance. A beacon of Light rinsed over his body from the sky above.

But this was nothing for Saidan as he kicked Daellin in the stomach, bringing him back down to the ground and the Light evaporated from existence. “You think the Light can protect you, huh? Still an old foolish man!”

Once more, Daellin tried to pull himself off the ground. “The Light is my protector, it guides me in the shadow-” Daellin was caught off as Saidan kicked him in the stomach once more.

Dathrohan continued to laugh and embrace his moment of superiority. “Do you want to know how I did it? How I brought the Crusade to its knees? How I killed Lordaeron’s greatest?” Saidan asked as he kicked Daellin once more for good measure.

Daellin’s face was now covered with blood and his body ached. He did not even respond. He knew very well that Saidan was the source of evil that swayed the Crusade from its original righteous cause to a path of blind zealotry. He cared not how or why Saidan did it. His goal for some time now, to kill Saidan and the corruption in the Crusade, may never be realized. Light, please…

“I will take your silence as a yes,” Saidan spat as circled around Daellin’s shaking body on the ground. “The first part was fairly easy. I knew very well that Mograine, the Ashbringer, was a formidable and just man. His power and his ability in the Light was, indeed, impressive for an old man. I knew he could not be swayed. But his son, Renault, though. With a promise of power and his father’s damned sword, the son killed the father. It was brilliant! With the Ashbringer dead and Renault under my complete control, I continued to shape the Crusade into my own.

“That left the Abbendises, Isillien, and, of course, you. The precious High Inquisitor Isillien was easy enough to manipulate. Then, when I heard of the attempted Stratholme purge, I was delighted! I could get rid of you and Abbendis. However, you survived, and as you always were, a thorn in my side. Though, I decided if I could manipulate Renault, I could do the same with you. But you were stubborn as always! So, of course, you had to disposed of, as you will be today.

“So, yes, I did systematically destroyed your once precious once grand Crusade. With your death, all of Lordaeron falls. Today, my puppets shall swarm this world!”

“And that day isn’t today, bastard!”

From behind, a familiar voice broke up Saidan’s victory speech. The Grand Crusader, and Grand Betrayer, turned to see who dared challenge him. He met Quinton’s eyes, full of fury and rage, just before Strongwill found its way through Saidan’s body. It pierced the red plate armor, his body, and went out through his back. Quinton’s hands trembled just like how Saidan’s eyes violently shook. Quinton viciously pulled Strongwill out. Saidan stood there for a few moments, then collapsed to his knees, then to the ground.

Quinton rushed to Daellin’s side. “Daellin! Speak to me!”

“Boy,” Daellin began between fits of coughing, “please, work on your one-liners.”

Quinton chuckled, “Will do, old man. Come on now,” The apprentice helped the mentor to his feet with his frail arm around Quinton’s shoulders. Both were obviously in pain.

“Your hurt,” Daellin muttered, pointing to Quinton’s gashed stomach.

Quinton smirked slightly and replied, “Just a flesh wound. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait.”

Daellin pulled himself away from Quinton and reached down to Saidan’s body. Dawncrier, as glorious as ever, was still in the betrayer’s grasp. Daellin, with some effort, pulled the sword away from his foe. He felt power course through his body as he was reunited with his old companion. The handle was still molded to his grasp and the ridged blade still looked sharp.

“Now let us make haste, boy,” Daellin said as the pair slowly walked to the archway that they came in from.

But before they could even reach the archway, they heard a strange noise. It sounded like…laughter. The pair, with caution, turned around back to the courtyard they were just in. It couldn’t have been Malor seeing he bled out sometime earlier. Their attention was then drawn to Saidan’s corpse. Quinton, especially, was confused seeing he delivered a fatal blow. The corpse rose from the ground in a straight and stiff manner. The two paladin, groaning, raised their respective swords and prepared what could be happening.

Similar to Namine’s End, a pitch black orb exploded outwards from Saidan. The two paladins braced themselves as they were washed in complete darkness. The shrill cries of bats could be heard in addition to the disturbing sound of bones cracking. Once the blackness was gone, the two paladins noticed that, so too, was Saidan.

In place of Saidan stood a gigantic figure only told in rumors and stories.

“Nathrezim!” Daellin gasped in disbelief. Quinton was puzzled, yet he knew very well that this was not good.

“Ah, so you are catching on old man. Indeed, I am the Cheater of Death, the Master of Mortal Pawns for I am Balnazzar!” The foul demon called out. His voice was dark yet sophisticated. He expanded his two bat like wings, the size of men. His purple skin radiated while some parts of his body was covered by royal purple plate armor.

“Well, this explains a lot,” Quinton muttered. “On three, old man?”

“Three,” Daellin replied as he charged at the demon, Dawncrier ready for its first use in sometime by Daellin. Quinton was right behind him. The dread lord, unimpressed, lifted itself from the ground and hovered several feet above the ground.

“Have some!” Quinton screamed as he tossed a volley of Holy Light from his left hand at the demon. Daellin did the same as well. All of the shots were direct hits, which made the demon cry in anguish. It replied with a volley of bolts of darkness at the two paladins. The pair were able to dodge out of the way of the attacks.

“Very well, looks like we are equally matched at a distance,” Balnazzar remarked as he landed with a loud thud and turned to the younger of his adversaries. “Come, boy!” He beckoned. Quinton took the challenge and charged, but he was more prepared. He called upon the Light to give a glowing shield to protect from his front. Meanwhile, Daellin took the opportunity to charge at the demon’s rear. At the same moment, both paladins made contact with the demon. The dread lord was able to parry all the blow from Quinton with his razor sharp talons, but was unaware of Daellin. The older paladin slashed at the stem of the demon’s left wing, severing it completely from its body.

This caused the demon to cry in pain and jumped several dozen feet away to the opposite side of the courtyard. The severed wing still twitched, as if it had a mind of its own. The paladins met up and turned to meet their opponent. Daellin felt good to use Dawncrier once more.

“Well done, paladin, perhaps I underestimated your capability. Maybe you will not cry just before you die, unlike the others!” The Nathrezim taunted as he charged at the paladins on the ground.

It was fast, faster than the two paladins had ever seen in their lives. Before they knew it, Quinton was knocked several feet away to the ground by the body blow from the demon. Just as fast he brought Quinton down, he slashed Daellin. The paladin narrowly avoided major damage to himself but a few claws found its way to his face, leaving three long gashes. Blood was slithered down his face, clouding his vision. Another quick blow from the demon’s arm sent Daellin sprawling to the ground.

“Just as expected. It is just a shame your body will not be as pristine to be risen. Hmm, better remember that…” Balnazzar thought aloud, but was caught off guard as he felt intense pain come from the stem of his other wing. He looked over to see his other wing severed just like the other. There, Quinton, with a bloodied sword, smirked.

“Sorry for batting in, I just couldn’t help myself,” Quinton stated as he side stepped away from the demon to avoid any possible attacks and to lure him away from Daellin.

“You little runt!” Balnazzar growled, now wingless, as he ran after Quinton. In a foot race, the dread lord still had an upper hand. Quinton would have to duck, dodge and roll to avoid further damage to himself. This would be the case if Daellin hadn’t called out Balnazzar.

“You son of a wench demon! You are even weaker in your true form, no wonder you weren’t man enough to show your true self and had to hide behind a shell!” Daellin beckoned the demon to go after him. Balnazzar, growing more and more angry with these petty humans, made a 180 turn and charged, once more, at Daellin Lightheart. Daellin pointed out Dawncrier directly outwards, point towards the oncoming beast.

“By the Light,” He muttered under his breath as he felt the Holy Light itself course through his veins. It was a feeling he had felt for the last thirty years quite well. He just needed one good blow to finish this, once and for all. As the demon charged, a pure gold radiance danced off of Lightheart. Strength, valor, bravery, it was all coursing through him. Daellin’s sight, too, changed. Just as he was teaching Quinton, he saw the world in the eyes of the Light.

“Quinton, now!” Daellin called out as Balnazzar was only a few yards away. In compliance of his mentor, Quinton raised Strongwill over his head with both hands, and with a mighty amount of force and effort, tossed Strongwill overhead towards Balnazzar. The sword twirled in a few circles before landing its mark on the demon’s back, near its spine.

“Gah! Damn you!” Balnazzar roared as tried his best with his hands to pull the sword stuck between its broad shoulder blades.

“Gotcha’” Daellin declared. The dread lord turned to see the elder paladin, the one that always seemed to ruin his plan, standing right in front of him. In a flurry that rivaled the celerity of Balnazzar, Daellin turned in a circle several times then had Dawncrier make contact with the demon’s neck. In an instant, the head of the foul demon was liberated from its body. The head was sent several feet away, while the body stood there for a few seconds, limp, and then crashed down with a thud.

Daellin, after examining the corpse of the demon, grinned as he looked over Dawncrier. “Still the same, aye baby?” He asked his sword.

“That is not weird at all,” Quinton muttered as he pulled Strongwill out of the demon’s back. He glanced it over, wiping off the black and purple blood of the demon. He gazed at the head of the demon they just slew, its eyes still as haunting as ever. “What about the head? Can we keep it as a trophy?”

“Leave it for someone else to take. We have priorities now, first being getting out of this Light-forsaken city, we have a lot to do and a lot to think over,” Daellin answered as he, once more, walked towards the archway. The sooner out of this damned city the better. Let it burn. Let the memories burn…

The Light's Crusade Page Two

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