Ruins of New Avalon
One day into the assault

Denalas Moontreader slammed the weakened Crusader against the stone wall, the rimelight in his eyes burning with the power of undeath. He held the sliver of metal mere inches from the Scarlet’s face, the glowing tip of the torture instrument giving off waves of heat that contrasted against the death knight’s aura of cold.

“Tell me of this ‘Crimson Dawn’ before I begin scrawling my life’s history upon your skin, human!” Denal’s voice was harsh, the magic of undeath warping its once smooth tone into something as forbidding as the frozen wastes themselves.

The knight’s eyes were wide with fear. Or was that excitement? He was young, that much was obvious–too young to have earned a veteran’s stoicism in the face of a threat. This inexperience was more effective at keeping the boy silent than anything else.

Denalas slammed the soldier against the wall once again. “Tell me!”

“Not…not for you, Moontreader. Something else for you…” The young Scarlet Crusader’s body then went limp, his head rolling forward and his arms falling to his sides. He had passed out. His open hand dropped an oddly shaped crystal, which landed next to Denal’s boot. Moontreader cast the ragdoll to the side in frustration and knelt to pick up the object, but was quickly interrupted by another death knight riding up on his deathcharger.

“Moontreader! It is done, cast aside the rest of these Crusaders. You are needed elsewhere.”

Denal glanced once more at the young Crusader who knew his name, then at the object still resting against his foot. He nodded his head to the other death knight. “Indeed, Malak. But why has the Lich King himself not instructed this?”

“There is interference here. Or have you not felt it?” Malak tugged on the reins of this charger, the undead creature seemingly restless. “The concentration of the Holy Light is causing some concern.”

“And this ‘Crimson Dawn?’” Moontreader tossed aside the sharpened pieces of metal that he was using to extract information from captives. “We are to forget about it so easily?”

“No, Denal. That has already been discovered. It was mere minutes ago, down in the crypt.” Malak spun his deathcharger around before turning his withered head over his shoulder. “We are to gather to the west of here, north of Light’s Hope chapel. The frostwyrms have arrived to finish the rest of these fleeing humans. We will strike in parallel–none will survive!”

Malak kicked his mount and rode away before Denal could continue his questions. Such was the way, however, in the service of the Lich King. One did not question. One merely obeyed.

Denalas Moontreader knelt and picked up the crystal before calling forth his own mount. He gave the unconscious heap that was the young Scarlet one last look.

Not for you, Moontreader. Something else for you.

The crystal glowed faintly in his hands. Clenching his jaw, he rode towards the rendezvous.