Return to Tyr's Hand

"After all, he was the leader of the Silver Dawn. Inviting you right in front of me was practically a declaration that he had no regard for our Scarlet Crusade." Abbendis was still fuming atop her horse.

"That is why I admire his broad-mindedness. To defeat the Scourge, we need someone with that kind of tolerance." Roderick respected everyone worthy of respect.

"When we return, I'll issue an order to recruit members of every Alliance race into our ranks." Even in her indignation, Abbendis carried a hint of haughty pride.

"Is that so? You know how to correct your mistakes. It seems you have the makings of a leader as well," Roderick said, not entirely in jest.

Not knowing whether he was teasing her, Abbendis flew into an embarrassed rage and lashed her riding crop hard. In an instant, she overtook everyone and galloped alone down the road ahead.

The billowing dust left Roderick at the rear with a face full of grit. Completely baffled, he had no idea how he had offended Abbendis.

Behind him came the laughter of Augustine and Rohan, while the walls of Tyr's Hand had already appeared on the distant horizon.

This had been the Scarlet Crusade's most devastating defeat. Taelan Fordring, who had remained behind, was left dumbfounded by the terrible news.

Dathrohan had betrayed them, the Scarlet Bastion had fallen into Undead hands, and every Scarlet Crusade soldier stationed there had been corrupted into Undead guards.

Only half of the force that had marched out returned, and nearly everyone bore injuries of varying severity. When Taelan received the unconscious Grand Inquisitor Isillien from the escorting Silver Dawn knights, he had been utterly at a loss.

Commander Mataus, Marlene, and Valdelmar, the Scarlet Crusade lord who had remained behind, took over all defensive duties.