Scarlet Band

Chapter 1: Delilah's Song

It had been a decent day lacking fog and a displaying a sky with a slight tint of blue behind the usual gray that usually blanketed the once-beautiful Tirisfal Glades; that was why the attack had come as such a shock.

The monsters had come without warning, Undead horrors striking at their sacred bastion: the Scarlet Monastery. For years their had been rumors of an attack from the nearby Undead city, but little more than a few foolhardy adventurers had stumbled into the stronghold, most of them slaughtered like filth while the survivors occasionally escaped with treasure, more commonly with scars. Yet today had been a planned siege; the Undead, despite their rotted brains, possessed an odd cunning, a devious intelligence that had allowed them not only to prove a nuisance, but also to pose a threat to the fortress.

These thoughts ran through Delilah Corwin's mind as she rushed away from the granite building that had been her home for the past five years. She cursed her own cowardice, her own failure for leaving the monastery. Yet, she realized, she had done right, she was merely following the orders of her superiors. As the Undead had pressed closer to the Cathedral, strewing the corpses of noble Scarlet Crusaders like rags and staining the marble floors with warm blood, High Inquisitor Whitemane had ordered several battalions of crusaders to retreat. Delilah thought back to the incident, running over each event in her mind.

"Our forces here cannot repel the attack, no matter how hard we try," Whitemane had said, her expression dour as she spoke to her troops. "The library is in shambles and the armory will soon fall. The graveyard has long-since been a lost cause, and we here can do nothing to stop the wave of Undead. They will continue to push her until this building is nothing but rubble; they will want to bring my head back for their unholy rituals."

"What do you suggest, High Inquisitor?" Captain Baelin had spoken up, his hands trembling not with fear or death, but with the anticipation of battle. "It will be an honor to die by your side!"

"You shall do no such thing, Baelin son of Armand," Whitemane replied. "My personal battalion and I shall stay here, the rest of you must flee." Instantly cries of dissent echoed off the high ceilinged chamber, the voices amplified as if the stained glass portraits of Mograine were repeating the calls. Whitemane raised her hands to silence the assembled soldiers.

"Warriors of the Scarlet Crusade, nay, Defenders of the Light, I feel I must better explain the situation to you," Whitemane sighed, turning and walking towards her throne before plunking downward, her feet seeming to give way to a body that felt heavy with emotion. "Runners have long since reported to me on the status of our forces. Houndmaster Loksey is dead, as are four-fifths of our sentry and scouting force. Meanwhile, half the battalions Herod commands from the armory are either dead, routed, or missing in action. Here, in the Cathedral, we have fewer than three thousand warriors to call upon, not nearly enough to stop the Undead force whose estimated size is over ten thousand. Messengers have informed me that the monstrous Dreadlord, Varimathras himself, has come here; none can stand against this monster, and there is even rumor that he has slaughtered Arcanist Doan and several other upper echelon commanders. Reports have also stated that Sylvanas herself is on the way; she has long hated our presence here and the Cathedral will surely be her first target.

"You are the elite of the elites, the finest soldiers of the Scarlet Crusade. To die here now would make you martyrs, but to live will make you heroes. I am confident you will all survive with the time I shall buy here, survive and grow stronger, strong enough to blunt the arm of the Scourge, powerful enough to make even the Dark Lady shudder, righteous enough to purify the Lich King himself!" Raucous cheers erupted from the chamber, and the walls seemed to scream the words: "For the Scarlet Crusade!" "Hail Whitemane!" "Remember the Ashbinger!"

Whitemane once again raised her hands to ask for silence. "Baelin, approach me."

"Yes, m'lady," the Captain said, his red and gold armor clinking as he walked towards Whitemane. He knelt down before her and raised his visor, exposing his handsome face and ebony hair.

"Baelin, long have I trusted you as an excellent warrior and advisor. Despite only living for twenty-six summers you have proven yourself time and again as a great Keeper of the Light. Now, I would like to bestow upon you an honor," at that, Whitemane rose and removed and necklace from her neck which she laced below Baelin's helmet. "From this day forth, I promote you to the rank of Inquisitor of the Scarlet Crusade." Cheers erupted from the crowd, loud enough to mask Baelin's reply.

"High Inquisitor, I thank you for this honor."

"I trust you will exceed my expectations, Inquisitor." Whitemane replied, a wry smile on her face. "Now, Baelin, take the troops through the passages at the back of the cathedral. Once you have all exited, I will magically seal the gates, making it impossible or at least difficult for the Undead to pursue you. Make haste to our stronghold of Tyr's Hand; tell them of what happened this day and add your might to theirs. You all have my blessing, may the Light guide you!"

The sound of a battering ram at the walls of the cathedral courtyard signaled the arrival of the Undead. The Scarlet Commander, Renault Mograine, appeared from behind one of the door leading out of the passage.

"Make haste, warriors, I shall purge as many of these cretins as I can," Mograine declared. "Waste no time, do as the High Inquisitor commands!" Mograine drew his mace and rushed towards the doorway, a cadre of several dozen paladins surrounding him.

Baelin waved his hand for the troops to follow, and in minutes they were rushing out the secret tunnels which led beneath the Scarlet Monastery.

From the crowd of troops, Delilah looked back once, felt a tear roll down her cheek, and wiped it away. She would make the Undead pay one-thousand fold for what they did on this day.

Delilah heard the sounds of combat as she exited the tunnels, and shuddered as she saw what was before her. All around her humans fought undead; corpses of both sides lay strewn on the ground.

"Light-damned Undead, they knew about the tunnels!" A soldier cried seconds before an arrow pierced his heart. Around him, several other warriors turned to flee back into the tunnels, and for a moment Delilah considered turning around herself.

"Stay and fight! Do not let Whitemane's sacrifice be in vain! Behind you lies death, before you lies redemption! Slaughter them all!" Captain, no, it was Inquisitor now, Baelin's voice echoed across the landscape. Delilah looked to see the heroic man hacking apart row after row of undead with his shimmering two-handed broadsword Purity's Fang. An aura of holy energy seemed to surround Baelin, the undead's attacks becoming slow and clumsy as they neared the holy swordsman. The troops needed no further goading: one of the men who had turned to flee, a black-haired archer, turned and fired an arrow into the skull of one Undead warrior; a female crusader fired a bolt of holy magic that incinerated a mage, leaving nothing but dust. Delilah herself felt the call to arms, drew her two-handed hammer, and rushed into the fray.

Each action seemed to be magnified, time slowing its endless ebb as the battle unfolded around Delilah. Her hammer smashed the skull of one warrior before she wheeled it around to crush the shield of another creature before it was decapitated by a fellow crusader. Her weapon seemed to become weightless, as if the Light itself was guiding the weapon, inspiring it to complete its righteous duty. Delilah could not count how many undead she felled nor how long the battle raged.

As the sun began to set over the hills, Delilah became aware of the futility of the battle. All around her lay corpses, yet the red tabard of the crusade was more evident than the black and violet armor of their adversaries. As she paused to think, Delilah felt a twinge of pain in her right leg and saw a dagger jutting out just above her knee. She squinted into the darkness but could not make out her attacker. If able, never fight Undead monstrosities at night; their eyesight is best in darkness and they are stronger when they can hide from the Light. This precept of the Scarlet Crusade echoed in Delilah's mind as she staggered into a copse of trees along with a few dozen others warriors. The crusade had lost.

Delilah panted and shuddered in fear as she heard the undead approach behind them; she saw the faces of her peers twisted in fear, their righteous indignation having disappeared under the veil of reality. Delilah offered a single glance back, noticing four score warriors still battling the undead, while another score and a half attempted to hold the undead off at the treeline. How many must sacrifice their lives so nobly so that cowards like us may cling to life a few moments longer? Delilah asked herself.

Delilah did not know for how long she and her companions ran, but all stopped simultaneously at a brook some miles away from what was once the Scarlet Monastery. As these beleaguered crusaders collapsed, many offered prayers to the Light for thanks or cursed their own cowardice, yet one sound echoed above all others: a man, crying. All tongues stopped their speech and turned to see Inquisitor Baelin, resplendent in gold and crimson armor, slamming a gauntleted fist on a boulder and wailing.

"I…h…have f…failed Whitemane! F…failed my men! Failed the Crusade! Failed the L…Light!" Baelin stammered between sobs. All were speechless: none had ever seen this mighty man in such a sorry state before. "I sh…sh….should've stayed and fought!" Instantly, cries of dissent arose.

"No, Inquisitor, you did the right thing!" The black haired archer whom Delilah had noticed earlier piped up. "Whitemane wanted you to live so you could lead us all to avenge the dead and someday rebuild the monastery more gloriously than ever!"

"Yes, had you died back there it would have been a detriment to the Crusade!" Gabrielle, a normally soft-spoken priest, offered. "Inquisitor, your survival today ensures that we will slaughter hundreds of Undead in the years to come!"

"They're right commander," Delilah was stunned that her own voice joined the crowd. "You're one of the finest warriors we have! Those men back there died because they knew of your value to us all!" Delilah had always been complemented on her beautiful smile since a young age, and so she revealed it now to her commander; she brushed her blonde bangs aside to show her eager green eyes, hoping her appearance might not only inspire Baelin, but also catch his attention.

Baelin wiped the tears from his eyes and turned to face the assembled troops. "Yes, our friends have sold their lives to slaughter the Undead and ensure that we will live to kill ten thousand for every one we have lost! We are the Scarlet Crusade, the last bastion of humanity in Lordaeron! We will purge the land of these beasts and return the kingdom to its former glory! Though there are only a few hundred of us here, we shall press onward! Tyr's Hand is at least a month's march from here, so we had best make haste!" Baelin drew his blade, allowing it to catch the moonlight. "Even if darkness surrounds us, a single pin-prick of light can pierce the shadow and someday fill the void with luminance!"

Shouts of joy erupted from the warriors, but Baelin raised a hand. "We have made too much noise here, the Undead are probably on our trail. Let us march until sun-up and then rest. I want all archers and scouts to patrol our flanks and report to me if any enemies are sighted; I would also like to task you with foraging for any possible rations we could make use of. Meanwhile, I want heavy infantry in the front and rear, while our healers and mages should situate themselves in the center of our formation. From my estimates it appears we only have a half-thousand warriors here. Stragglers will surely join us within the next few days, and we may find other willing recruits on our way, though that it highly unlikely. 'Trust none who approach who do not wear the Scarlet Tabard,'" Baelin quoted another precept.

Delilah sighed and turned away, taking her place in the front ranks. It appeared she would merely be another body in this sea of troops. She shook all thoughts of life from her mind and tried her best to concentrate on thoughts of vengeance, yet she continued to think of Baelin's dark eyes.

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As the sun rose over the trees of Tirisfal, Baelin called a halt to the march and stood before his troops to give a speech.

"We will make camp here for the next day and wait for stragglers to join us. You are all ordered to rest and resupply as best you can so that we can continue our march with sufficient preparation. I have decided to divide you into four companies, each led by a captain who will report directly to me based on the company's needs. The Crimson Company will be led by Captain Aurora and will consist of the remnants of the 8th Paladin Battalion, the 7th and 11th Scouting Battalions, the 5th Warrior Battalion, and the 1st Magister Battalion," Delilah, a former member of the 8th Battalion, tuned out the remainder of Baelin's force divisions, focusing instead on the stern gaze of Captain Aurora.

Aurora was one of the strongest paladins in the Scarlet Cathedral, a former sergeant serving the 8th Paladin Battalion. Delilah did not know her well, only having exchanged a few words with her now and then when requesting supplies or asking about guard schedules. Aurora, with her cold gaze, gray eyes, and pure raven hair gave off an aura of stability and a low tolerance for failure. It is said that Aurora killed her own brother and sister when they had been unable to defeat an Abomination that was roaming a league from the Monastery. Though some, like Delilah, saw this measure as unnecessarily harsh none dared argue with the famed paladin who stated, time and again, "The Scarlet Crusade does not harbor weakness. Those who fail our cause are dead to us." Delilah gulped, hoping she would not incur the wrath of this mighty woman.

"…thus, our organization will be known as the Scarlet Band, at least until we arrive at Tyr's Hand," Baelin finished. "We will rotate watch in six hour increments, with each of our four companies taking a shift. I want Crimson Company to take the first watch, Cinnabar Company second, Carnelian Company third, and Coral Company last. I will leave it up to the individual commanders to determine where to station his or her troops. I would also request that all scouts I sent to hunt and gather supplies report to the center of our formation and take stock of whatever rations they are able to scrape together. I will then supervise distribution of supplies so that everyone gets a fair share." Baelin paused, his expression becoming darker before he continued. "Also, from this point on, I am making it a law of the Scarlet Band that anyone caught stealing, hiding, or unfairly distributing resources will be put to death immediately, no questions asked. Now, enough of me blowing hot air, let's get to work!"

"Crimson Company, assemble!" Aurora's stern cry grabbed the attention of her charges, and they instantly assembled in rank and file before the paladin who stood some distance away from Baelin and his close confidants. Delilah had not noticed it before, but now she realized there seemed to be a greater degree of malice in Aurora's face whenever she looked in Baelin's direction; clearly, the female commander had distanced herself from the new Inquisitor for a reason.

Perhaps she believes the position should have been hers, Delilah thought as she gazed at Aurora's cold eyes. Is there bad blood between Aurora and Baelin? She wondered.

"Warriors of the Crusade," Aurora began, "for those of you that do not know me, I pity you. My name is Aurora Cronos, daughter of Maelin and Josua Cronos. I joined the Silver Hand at age twelve as a mere healer's assistant, and through hard work and dedication I was able to learn the ways of the Paladin. I fought alongside Uther the Lightbringer in the Third War, and joined the Scarlet Crusade shortly after his death. My esteemed reputation soon gained me the much deserved rank of captain."

"Awfully full of herself, isn't she?" A voice whispered in Delilah's ear. She turned to see the black haired archer who had aided her earlier.

"Is there something you'd like to share with us all, scout?" Aurora's eyes pinned themselves on the archer's face, and he shivered slightly. Everyone could tell from her enunciation of the final word of the sentence that she placed the lad, and perhaps scouts in general, far below her station. "Let's just hope you don't run off your mouth on missions and draw Undead to our position, eh? Regardless, I do not have time to waste chiding disrespectful subordinates, so I will be brief. You are all assigned to watch duty for the next six hours. I would like warriors and paladins at the edges of camp, while scouts and mages patrol and plug holes if necessary. I would like the scouts to also be responsible for gathering and distributing supplies from the center of camp. You, boy," once again she addressed the archer next to Delilah, "since you seem to enjoy talking to and about paladins so much, you are assigned to the front line with the melee troops. See if you can be of some use to them. You all have your orders, dismissed!"

"Yes, m'lady!" A hundred voices said in unison as the headed off.

As Delilah headed to the eastern perimeter of the camp alongside several dozen other soldiers, she heard the archer's voice behind her.

"Sorry I have yet to introduce myself, my name's Adrian, Adrian Loksey," the archer stated as he walked up beside Delilah and extended his hand.

"I'm Delilah Corwin," she replied, extending her hand for a shake. "Loksey? As in the Houndmaster? I did not know her had a wife." She continued, cringing slightly as Adrian kissed her hand before letting it go.

"You're right, he never married," Adrian stated, "let's just say he was popular with the ladies in his youth."

"Oh," Delilah said simply, turning to continue walking while Adrian continued to prattle on.

"Yeah, dear old dad died in the attack, he went down like a real man, fighting off the Undead as long as he could, bought a lot of time for the rest of the troops to rally. It's a shame his dogs went too, I loved those mongrels almost as much as my father."

"Fascinating," Delilah sighed. She did not mean to be so anti-social, but the events of the past few days and Adrian's general mood did little for her feelings.

"Why is it the pretty ones always seem to be so curt?" Adrian muttered to himself, removing his bow from his shoulder and beginning to polish it as he sat down against a tree. He removed an arrow from his quiver and looked down the shaft, before exclaiming, "damn good quality, too bad I'll probably need to make my own arrows 'til we get to Tyr's Hand. I can barely fletch without my tools, and I left them in the Monastery."

Seriously, stop talking, Delilah thought. We need to focus on surviving and fighting the Undead, not worthless stories about our personal lives. 'We live to slaughter the Unholy and revive the might of Lordaeron; friends are but soldiers you can trust, love is but a motivating force,' Delilah thought, the precept revealing her current feelings. Yet, as much as she desired to focus only on matters of business, she could not ignore the thoughts of Baelin that raced through her mind. Ludicrous, truly ludicrous! Why do I waste time thinking about my commander? It cannot be love, for I barely know him, and even so choosing a husband is about more than love these days.

Delilah sighed as she thought about this sad fact. The Scarlet Crusade's membership was large, far larger than the worthless Argent Dawn or the remnants of the once glorious Silver Hand. Yet, year after year more and more warriors killed while the armies of the Undead swelled, or at the very least stabilized. Though little by little the unholy forces were reduced or blunted, they ultimately survived in proportionately better shape than their adversaries. Meanwhile, few new members joined the Scarlet Crusade: most of Lordaeron's inhabitants who had not died from the plague had fled south to Hillsbrad or Stormwind, while the majority of those that remained were already members, or at least beneficiaries, of the organization. The women of the Crusade also rarely gave birth, as they were often needed for combat and thus could not afford to have time away from battle to nurture a pregnancy. Recently, however, High General Abbendis herself had sent out an edict stating that all younger women should attempt to have at least two children in their life, if not more. Women in higher ranking positions, such as Captains, Generals, and Inquisitors, were exempt from such a law, their positions requiring constant attention (though Delilah knew some of these women still had affairs and there was even rumor that Abbendis had a pair of twin daughters). There was no direct penalty for failing to comply, but women like Delilah knew that the future of the Scarlet Crusade depended on such efforts. If only men like Baelin took an interest in her, perhaps she would abide.

As Delilah was considering all of this, she began to sing a song from her youth, not fully recognizing this subconscious cantillation.

"The golden hills cry out in vain

The trees begin to fall

The villains rush across the plain

To heed the monster's call.

The future seems bleak as can be

With darkness closing in

Town are crushed for all to see

Men perish in the din.

Yet heroes rise to join the fight

Warriors brave and true

They will slay all within their sight

Beneath the skies of blue.

They lay down their lives we may live

At last they show a wringer

A man whose life he'd gladly give

Good Uther the Lightbringer.

Uther's Hammer judged them all

His Holy Light avenged

To him enemies were merely small

His foes splintered like wenge.

Great Uther turned…"

"Beautiful song," a voice interrupted Delilah and she turned to see a wizard standing beside her; she looked to be a little older than Delilah, her short auburn hair and brown eyes gave her an attractive appearance. "That was the 'Hymn of Uther the Lightbringer,' am I correct?"

"Yes…" Delilah began, before a voice she hoped not to hear cut her off.

"About his death in the Third War right?" Adrian piped up, rushing over to join the conversation.

"No, actually it details his actions in the Second War," the mage said. "The enemy it refers to are the Orcs, not the Undead."

"Precisely," Delilah said. "I am Delilah Corwin, by the way. What is your name?"

"I go by Illana," the wizard replied. "it's a pleasure to meet you. Since we serve in the same company, I am sure we will be working together quite a bit." Delilah nodded in reply; she could already feel that the two of them would get along.

Suddenly, the trio heard footsteps and turned around to see a breathless runner carrying a haversack over each shoulder. "G…greetings my lo…lord and ladies, I h…ha…have supplies for you all," the scout managed to stammer as he panted, looking down as he bent over to catch his breath. He craned his neck upward and smiled, "nice to see you are still in one piece, Loksey, I thought Aurora would cleave you in two for sure! Not that it'd be a huge loss, you're a poor shot after all!"

"Look who's talking, Gareth!" Adrian exclaimed jokingly, walking over to remove the haversacks from his friends, handing one to each of the ladies. "You can barely even carry these little bags for a few meters!"

"Easy for you to say, Aurora let you off easy! I'm stuck running around delivering things to everyone! Now I've even got to go back to get another bag for your sorry hide!" Gareth continued.

"No need, I can hunt my own game since I'm stationed at the front anyway," Adrian continued. "Good luck!"

"Thanks, I will surely need it," Gareth muttered before rushing back towards the center of camp.

"He's a good guy, that Gareth," Adrian said. "Always give me free arrows or rather, doesn't mind me 'borrowing' them," he held out his hand to show a bundle of shafts, most likely looted from Gareth's quiver when the lad was not looking. Illana chuckled slightly at this, while Delilah just gave Adrian a cold stare. "Come on, lighten up, she thinks I'm funny."

"What did Inquisitor Baelin say about stealing?" Delilah shot back. "If we want to survive until Tyr's Hand, no, if we want to win the war against the Undead we cannot afford to treat each other in such a manner."

"He is one of my closest friends, he will understand," Adrian replied, "no need to get so worked up. Anyway, I had better scrounge up some food for myself, I will see you ladies later." With that, Adrian walked off, heading towards a distant copse of trees.

"Clearly, you dislike him," Illana stated matter-of-factly.

"Did you use your magic to figure that out?" Delilah replied, a slight hint of humor in her cold diction.

"He obviously is interested in you. And besides, you should at least be courteous to him, after all we will all be working together. You said it yourself, we need to treat each other well if we want to survive."

"True, but I just get a bad feeling from him," Delilah answered. "Perhaps I am over-thinking things. It just must be the stress from the recent battle." Illana nodded.

"Well, I had best continue my patrol route. Some of the other mages were able to craft defensive bubbles that can hold a few people as makeshift tents; we have some extra space, so feel welcome to share one with some of my associates and I when you need to sleep."

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I can handle myself," Delilah replied. "I will see you later I suppose."

"Goodbye!"

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No events of note occurred during the hours of Delilah's watch, save for another scout appearing to deliver a makeshift tent of sewed hides to Delilah. At one point she thought she saw Adrian walking towards her from some distant trees, but seconds later lost sight of him. When a member of the Cinnabar Company appeared to take her place, Delilah was more than ready to snag some sleep. She made her way to the center of the camp and pitched her tent far enough away from the others to feel private, but close enough to feel safe.

As Delilah fell asleep she began to reflect on the recent events that had been the Scarlet Crusade. As the images of red-clad warriors slaughtering and being slain by undead troops filled her mind, she thought back to the days when she first joined the Scarlet Crusade…

Character Profile: Delilah Corwin

Age: 17

Rank: Low-ranking Paladin of the Scarlet Crusade

Affiliation: Member of the Scarlet Band's Crimson Company, formerly a member of the 8th Paladin Battalion in the Scarlet Monastery's Cathedral

Abilities: Delilah is a Paladin in-training. She knows basic healing and offensive holy magic which is supplemented by her skills with a two-handed mace.

Appearance: Delilah is five feet five inches tall and is fairly slender. Her hair is blonde and falls roughly to her shoulders. Her eyes are a medium green hue. She wears a suit of red mail armor, the standard outfit for a warrior of her station, covering the majority of her body save her head; she also wears the traditional Scarlet Crusade tabard.

High-Elf-Swordsman (HES): Hey everyone! That's right, I'm back to writing Warcraft fan fiction! This story, like many others, came to me one day as random inspiration! For those that wonder, yes, this story does pick up where Forsaken Love left off; I promised I wouldn't do a sequel involving Darren, I never promised no sort of sequel whatsoever! I've always been interested in the Scarlet Crusade, and I decided it'd be fun and interesting to tell a story about them. I hope you all are enjoying it so far and keep coming back for more! I've planned this story to continue for awhile, and I hope you all will stay with me through that journey! Review if you can, I really value input and it inspires me to work harder and update more frequently! Until next time, have a good one!