You couldn't simply choose a path with no outside opinions. It was a significant decision, and would likely determine how you interacted with the Crusaders in some way. At least you expected that. Admittedly, your expectations had been shattered several times in this bizarre place, given the comparative opulence available to almost everyone, but your point remained.
You decided that you would ask someone, but that first you would begin your studies under Sir Morlune. It was time that you found ways to wield the Light that consisted of more than brute-forcing it.
"The Light is both a force and a tool. It surrounds and fills us, and through it we can work wonders." Runes and symbols whirled around the libram in his hands, "The paladin focuses that energy to the destruction of unholy energies that comprise the Light's antithesis. This tradition was started in the Second War, when the orcs utilized necromantic magics and summoned demons against the Alliance." The Light faded, and he snapped the book shut. "The templar, however, is a far more recent development, first created three years ago by High Inquisitor Fairbanks before his death. Rather than focus on unholy foes, the Templar aims to also defeat mortal enemies and beasts that threaten the innocent. Their energies, when focused, are capable of harming those among the living who do not wield dark powers, and the templar is thus more capable of meting out righteous judgment against more common evil as well as the unholy. The greatest of their number can even strengthen their discipline to the point where the Light can replace armor, at least as far as some rumors say."
"So the paladin is solely a holy warrior, whereas the templar is more aimed towards general wickedness?" It was fairly easy to grasp. "But why was that viewed as necessary when the foes the Crusade would face were all based on those magics the Light is most effective against?"
"A fair question. It was created because Fairbanks had a vision of the Crusade becoming a foe to all evil once the Scourge's power was broken in Lordaeron. The path was later adopted by the Crusade and the Argent Dawn as the Cult of the Damned became more prevalent."
"So there was meant to be a greater widening of the Crusade's foes? Isn't that thinking a bit too far ahead?" You knew the value of planning, but it seemed slightly insane to plan for such a distant goal. Morlune shrugged.
"From what I understand, Fairbanks was of the opinion that if it was worth preparing for, it was worth over-preparing for." He opened the libram again. "But back to the matter at hand…" At your nod, he continued. "Paladins channel their Light through a combination of their own soul and a relic. Many paladins choose librams of various kinds, such as the five Great Librams given to the founders of the Silver Hand. Others choose reliquaries. Templars, on the other hand, channel energy far more through themselves, binding their Light more into the physical realm, and enabling its wielding against more mundane enemies." He pointed to a nearby straw dummy. "The basic offensive tool of any Light-wielder is the use of holy energy in a spell of divine smiting." You could just tell that he loved that word too much. There was too much emphasis on the 's.' "That will be your first lesson. Now, let us begin…"
You practiced for a full four hours. In that time, you truly began to realize just how bluntly you had been drawing on the power granted to you. With each new attempt, you found it easier and less taxing. By the end of those four hours, you were exhausted, but you had managed to burn the dummy to a cinder with an ever-decreasing excess of energy.
Even as you returned to your cell for the night, you kept thinking back, a sense of pride rising up until you realized something.
This place, this strange, insane place, with all of its horrors and trials, was becoming dear to you.
You couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought.
The next day, you decided to ask someone's advice. Thornby was from Alterac, and while you assumed that Morlune was Tirasian, you wanted a truly outside opinion.
Thus, you went looking for Phillipus again. It wasn't easy. The Tidesages, as the sea-priests were apparently called, didn't spend much time in the village itself, much preferring to remain nearer to the headwaters of the River Darrow. But they did usually return occasionally to ensure that things were in order, and sometimes to recruit escorts to the farthest totems that kept the river pure.
Luckily, that was how you found Phillipus. He was in the library, inspecting a sample of water from the area along the palisade, and appeared somewhat troubled.
"Having difficulties?" He looked up when you spoke.
"Jeanne! Wonderful to see you! I heard you were injured, but things were just so hectic that I couldn't really make it, so -"
"It's fine. You have an important job. There's no need for apologies." He nodded, smiling.
"Thank you." The smile turned into a grin. "So, what brings our village's resident Maid to a humble Tidesage?" You unconsciously rolled your eyes.
"I wanted to talk, and to ask if there was anything that you needed my help with. I want to make myself useful, and I should have some armor soon." He nodded, expression fading into a more neutral one as he thought, before looking at the small bowl of water on the table.
"There is something, I think. But I may be paranoid. The water in the river has been giving off strange emissions for the last few days. It's barely noticeable now, but if it builds up, it might become dangerous."
"Emissions?"
"Magical energies of a sort that I'm not familiar with. It's not void, because I recognize that from necromancy. It isn't natural, because druidry and such things don't have this kind of effect." That sounded very bad even as you heard it. The river was the only nearby source of clean water. If it were to become contaminated or infected, the village would probably die off as people keeled over or left.
"And what do you propose to do?"
"I'm leading some of my fellows up to the headwaters later today. We're the only ones who can work the magics used in the totems, so we have to be there. Julia's gathering a few charitable footmen and rifles, and she might get a mage or two to help. Maybe Dunhelming'll come along, since he's a hydromancer."
"And that has what significance, exactly?" You'd heard the term used almost pejoratively before, but it seemed odd. Phillipus shrugged.
"In Kul Tiras, many hydromancers are Tidesage acolytes who didn't have the faith necessary to channel the power through natural magics. Instead they use the arcane. Some, like… Well, some combine the two in a way, but it's a difficult thing to get right."
"And the origins of those who were acolytes places a kind of stigma?" It seemed very odd to you. The Tidesages in general were odd, because they worshipped-slash-venerated a mysterious sea-spirit and yet continued in many cases with aiding the Church. They were only virtuous heathens by the barest definition, if you remembered your lessons correctly.
"Sort of. It's more of a rivalry than hatred or dislike." He waved his hand. "I think it's silly, really." Looking back to you, he raised an eyebrow. "Does that sound like something you'd like to do?"
"I think so. The river's vital here, so I'd be remiss if I didn't try to assist in keeping it pure." Phillipus smiled.
"Great!" He reached out and shook your hand. Mostly because you were slightly confused and didn't return the gesture very much. "I'll see you in a while then. We'll be just outside the main gate."
You just had to hope that the armor was ready, in that case. And you were not disappointed. When you returned to your cell, you found a parcel wrapped in paper on your bed. Within was a fine set of mail, with red leather giving additional protection at the legs and shoulders. There were gloves and boots as well, but they were more akin to the studded leather armor you knew was common here. Of course, the mail was odd - it appeared to be similarly constructed to scale, with some kind of base bound to the metal at the edges to add an additional layer of protection and help redistribute the weight. There was a note attached that read:
Jeanne,
Got this done faster than I thought. Hope it serves you well.
Wayland
It was surprisingly easy to put on, as it turned out. It seemed that for all the aesthetic similarities, this land truly was ahead of Europe in many ways. You decided that the banner wasn't likely to be necessary, and so took your sword and the Good Book (which Morlune had given you a sort of holster for, since he took it to be your form of a paladin's libram), and went to meet your fellows at the gate.
What you found was surprising. About fourteen footmen and six rifles mingled with three sea-priests and…
"Miss Jeanne. A pleasure to meet you under less strenuous circumstances." Lucius Dunhelming.
"Dunhelming. I thought we had quite an adequate introduction at the Bulwark. I certainly saw enough of your inability to tear yourself away from your calculations." He raised an eyebrow.
"Fair enough. I admit to being somewhat abrasive at times, so I suppose that's reasonable." He bowed slightly. "I'll be going on ahead with one of the Tidesages. I suppose we'll see you at the headwaters."
"I suppose so." He waved lazily as he left, one of the priests going with him as they semeingly started some energetic discussion. Probably more magical theory. You had heard Nilas muttering it at one point, and you didn't have the head for that kind of mathematics. What was an Antonidan Set, anyway?
Putting the matter out of your mind, you found Phillipus among the crowd. He waved you over.
"I see you have some new equipment!"
"As if it wasn't obvious." You were generally forgiving of someone stating the obvious, but sometimes it just rubbed you the wrong way. Like there. He rolled his eyes, before turning to the party that had assembled.
"Is everyone ready? Remember, this will take at least six hours in travel there and back alone, and we may run into undead along the way. I won't be held responsible if one of you forgot extra powder charges or something like that. So what say you?" The answer was a resounding series of whoops and cheers indicating that these men and women were just happy to be doing something, regardless of what it was. "All right then. We're moving out!"
The journey, short though it was compared to the trek across Tirisfal, was on a continuous incline into the Upland Hills that formed the border between the Plaguelands and Tirisfal. The air was clearer and thinner, and there were fewer signs of the Plague's corruption. Occasionally, you would see small trees sprouting along the riverbanks, and there were some bushes covered in dark berries that every soldier in the party left well alone. You could only assume that they were hazardous. You occasionally talked with some of your compatriots, but finally found time to talk with Phillipus somewhat separately from the others.
"Phillipus, do you mind if I ask you something?"
"Of course not!" he looked concerned. "Is something wrong, Jeanne?"
"No. i just wanted to ask your opinion on this. You're not really from this region, and so I thought you would have a different perspective." He chuckled.
"I suppose. But really you could've asked Morlune as well. Or Dunhelming. The only locals in our Host are Alizabeth and Thornby and the Alteraci he brought with him." He paused briefly before looking back to you. "So, what's the question?"
"Well, it's less a question than it is requesting your opinion on something. I've been considering joining the Crusade properly, but I noticed that there are two methods to do so."
"And you wanted my opinion on which would suit you more." As you nodded, he squinted at something in the distance. "It's hard to determine, frankly. The Proven Road is reliable if you want to join the fight quickly and work your way up even faster. The Long Road is better for people who see the Crusade as a path to revelation and righteousness. It's meant to instill lessons and guide pilgrims to epiphany. The Proven Road is for those who feel that they have already learned a great deal, or who others feel are ready immediately." He turned back to you. "Personally, I feel as though you're more than ready for the Proven Road. I'm sure Sir Morlune would be willing to sponsor you. But you yourself might feel that the Long Road is more appropriate, if I understand the depth of your piety correctly. That's about all I can say, given that we were an odd case anyway."
"An odd case? Why do you say that?" At your question, he winced slightly.
"Well… I suppose we were put through the initiation faster than usual, since we arrived under the circumstances we did. Battle-hardened veterans open for recruitment aren't common this far North."
"And what made your circumstances different? I mean, it doesn't seem very unusual for people to come across the sea for a noble cause." The moment the words were out of your mouth, a dark look came over his face. "That is, if you want to explain. I understand if you don't."
"No, no. It's fine. Probably a good idea that you hear the whole thing from someone who was there firsthand rather than from some yokel who heard a dozen wrong details." He sighed. "It began when Lordaeron collapsed…"
"There were refugees moving South all across the continent, but almost nowhere to go. Gilneas closed itself off after the Second War, and built that wall not long before the Scourging. Alterac was filled with bandits and criminals. Stromgarde was in the middle of a civil war after King Thoras died. Those who made it through the Highlands settled in Khaz Modan or Stormwind. The rest had little choice in the matter. Many of them came to Kul Tiras.
The island was always self-sufficient, but the population was never close to that of the mainland kingdoms. The kingdom and the Great Families weren't prepared for the sudden strain of hundreds, even thousands of newcomers arriving over a period of weeks. Eventually, they started getting desperate. Of course, the Lord Admiral had a solution, as always.
He brought up rumors that his daughter, Lady Jaina, had taken part of the Armada across the sea, bringing settlers and refugees guarded by military forces from Lordaeron, Gilneas, and Stromgarde. He said that she had reportedly sought a new land across the sea; a land that was wild and open, waiting for the brave to lay claim to it. He said that this new land could be a second chance for the Alliance. That it could be made into a new home. They believed him. We believed him.
Many of us in the Host are children of soldiers and mages, heroes who fought the Horde to a standstill and then broke it in the War. Their battles would be legendary. Many of them would be remembered. We wanted to become heroes like them, and we saw the expedition as our chance. We kept thinking that all the way across the Great Sea.
When we first saw Kalimdor, it was like a dream. This great wide plain, a sea of tall grass with trees that stood hundreds of feet apart. A land untamed by anyone or anything. We only saw fortune and glory, and a legacy as the saviors of civilization. We built fortresses and camps all along the coast, and two more fleets were ordered to follow us, one under Lieutenant Benedict and one under Lieutenant Alverold. That's about when things went wrong.
We weren't the first to arrive. We built one base within spitting distance of what looked like an island city, and the desert north of our landing point was filled with orcs. Naturally, one company of our forces destroyed one of the Horde's camps, but then they were destroyed in return. The survivors said that only four warriors had done it. Four Horde warriors against a hundred of our marines, and the blackbloods won!
An inland logging operation was destroyed around the same time, and another company tried to assassinate the orcs' warchief, but everything failed. Then they attacked the coastal base.
I was there. We were led by Sir Dagren the Orcslayer, a hero of the War. A paladin! We thought that no orc in his right mind would attack! But, as was becoming usual, we were wrong. One orc, with a string of beads around his neck, a banner on his back and a sword as tall as he was, charged in like a madman and killed the guards at the main gate. Then he just disappeared, and then reappeared halfway across the settlement, and disappeared again. It happened over and over for an hour. Eventually, we just started evacuating. Sir Dagren stayed behind, and the last I saw was half the town going up in flames… I guess that the orc hid bombs all across the base while we searched for him.
The rest happened so quickly that it's almost hard to believe that it happened. We entered that island city, and found that Lady Jaina was the ruler! She'd founded the city as a sort of haven for the refugees. But… She'd made peace with the Horde. No. She's made an alliance with them, for Tide's sake! The Lord Admiral was livid, and seized control of the city. The place was put under martial law, and the fleet was sent to hunt down the trolls in an archipelago to the North.
That was even worse. This horde of bat riders darted across the isles, sinking every ship we sent! Entire companies were destroyed in the jungle!
And then they attacked our main base, Tiragarde. Orcs, trolls, these massive bull-men with totems for weapons - they just kept coming! The keep fell in two days, and everything fell apart. The Horde capitalized on it, and they attacked the city itself.
The battle lasted less than a day. We never figured out where they got the ships, but they landed and invaded in force. Within hours, they had fought us to a standstill in the main square. Barely an hour later, this half-ogre brute was standing over the Lord Admiral's body. Lady Jaina just, stood there, dead-eyed, looking right at Lord Daelin. When they left, she just stood there.
Some of our comrades joined her in the city. Oh…. It was called Theramore. The rest of us turned and ran. We took our ships and set fire to as much of the coast as we could while the Horde just watched. They were laughing, we were certain. Laughing at the pitiful remains of the force that had tried to play at being heroes. But it just got worse again.
A freak storm blew us off-course for some reason. We thought that we saw islands in the waves, but it might have been the desperation. We landed too far north to be in Baradin Bay, but it was still a jungle. We later figured out that we were on the Dragon Isles.
That place was a nightmare. It went well at first; we set up a camp and patrolled outward, trying to find any sign of friendly forces. We found remains from the Second War, both orcish and human, but not much else besides the jungle. Some of the orc skulls ended up decorating the palisade. We just wanted some small revenge for everything.
The moment we got comfortable, the Isles seemed to come alive. Wildlife started attacking in waves like they were led by something else. We'd find patrols mauled along the beach; some just dead, others missing limbs, and some were gone except for armor or weapons. An entire company just disappeared into thin air when they tried to clear part of the forest. It came in waves. Sometimes it would be safe. We could go miles inland and come back. Other times, you'd just lose people. One moment, there, the next, gone. Eventually we stopped trying.
Some of the men got superstitious. They took down the orc skulls and buried everything. It didn't stop, obviously. It never stopped. We were there for months. When we got there, there were almost four thousand men who had been beached. Less than half remained when we finally sent a raft to the mainland.
When they came back, it was with a fleet. We didn't bother burning the camp. We grabbed everything that we could and boarded the ships. Some of us got hit harder than others. A lot just put down their swords as soon as we hit the mainland. They went East to the Enclave or Hearthglen. The rest of us joined up with our rescuers.
"And…" He shrugged, eyes downcast. "That's about it. Since then, we resettled Vandermar, and we made a conscious effort not to be deployed in the North."
"I…" That had been more than you expected. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have -" He waved it off.
"You were going to hear about it anyway. Besides, it was three years ago. We've had to move on just to survive here." He shrugged again. "And you weren't involved at all. Couldn't have been." There was a long silence, and you did little besides walk. The river became narrower, and the plantlife more prominent. Eventually, you found yourself in a wide valley, the river flowing down from the mountains, too steep to climb.
Dunhelming and the Tidesage were already there, furiously taking notes and examining the ground. You soon saw why. In random blotches scattered across the small vale, the earth was pitch-black, and seemed to give off heat.
"Ah! You've arrived!" Dunhelming stood up, journal in hand. "I have good news and bad news."
"Give us the good first, please, and no sarcasm, Lucius." Phillipus gave him a look that cut off whatever he was about to say in response.
"Letting the priest trample you now, are you Lucius?" There was some laughter among the soldiers. "Don't think Zerx would've liked that!"
"Be quiet, Anos." Lucius shot a glare into the crowd. "Fine." He grimaced. "The good news is that there's no sign of the undead contaminating the river. The totems are also keeping the magical energy down to a manageable level for now." His grimace turned to a frown, and he glared at the stream that was the River Darrow. "The bad news is that the magic is identifiable. It's fel." You could have heard a pin drop.
"Fel?" Phillipus was white as a sheet. "But that's -"
"Nothing's impossible until proven so, Phillipus. It's fel magic. And what's more I think that it's not even supposed to corrupt the spring. I think -"
"Lucius." You spoke up, watching something rise from the river. "Did you summon any elementals?"
"No…" He turned to look in the same direction. "Oh, damn. The elementals of the river are waking up. Wait…. Oh damn!" He began preparing a spell. "No summoning here. There's too much risk of the things being affected one and all. We have to send them back to the elemental plane. If we do that, the magic should disperse naturally, and the corruption will fade."
"And if it doesn't?" You didn't even think before asking. It was force of habit.
"Then we have to warn the village."
Your party formed into ranks as a dozen water elementals rose from the river, wreathed in strings of green flame. There was silence.
And then all hell broke loose, and battle was joined.
Battle Plan:
[] Create a battle plan for Jeanne (Write in, may include elements of other votes)
[] Flank the elementals and try to attack from the side
-[] Bring troops with you. (Specify What/how many)
[] Focus on healing.
[] Focus of defending.
-[] The Rifles
-[] The Tidesages
[] Direct the soldiers (Write in orders)
Inventory Update: Acquired Scarlet Chain (+5 to Defense)
Battle Status: Beginning
Scarlet Crusade: 1 Jeanne, 1 Hydromancer, 3 Tidesages, 6 Rifles, 14 Footmen
Darrow Elementals: 12 Fel-touched Elementals
Oof. This one's the longest here. Hope you all like it!
