Anyone who's lost loved ones to the Scourge, who's fought the Scourge during the Third War, or who's had to watch their friends and family get turned into shambling undead mockeries has a reason to join the Scarlet Crusade. Fortunately for the Crusaders, that's almost everyone in Lordaeron. The Crusade is picky about their membership, though.
Joining the Scarlet Crusade requires ultimate commitment — if you join, the Crusade becomes your life. I had to take refuge in Tyr's Hand a year or two back when I was traveling through the Plaguelands, and a disturbingly enthusiastic recruiter talked my ear off for a few hours, though she made it perfectly clear that dwarves were not eligible for membership. Once you ask to join the Crusade, you must remain quarantined for at least a month. The Crusade wants to make sure you're not an undead masquerading as a living person in order to infiltrate the organization. During the quarantine, generals and inquisitors visit the prospective member several times to interrogate him and make sure he's willing to do what it takes to support the Crusade. My source was vague about what happens during these interrogations,
When the battle started, Arend's survival instinct took over. For a time he felt no fear, no disgust and no rage, none of the emotions that had driven him to join the Scarlet Crusade in the first place. He had watched the Scourge rip his town and his loved ones to pieces, and for a time Arend thought he would never feel anything again. Then the emotions had returned and had nearly destroyed him. He thought now that he had gone mad for a time. The Crusade helped him heal. With every blow he struck against the Scourge, the pain eased a little. It always came back, of course, but if he kept fighting he could keep the pain at bay. This had been the worst battle ever. Rotting corpses besieged him from all sides. Arend swung his sword over and over, stabbing through the bodies ofhis enemies until they lay in shreds before him. In any ordinary battle, his blade and gauntlets would be scarlet with blood. These abominations left only black ichor behind. Three knights swept around him and gave Arend a moment to catch his breath. His breast heaved under the heavy armor and sweat ran into his eyes. He hefted his sword and started forward again. Through the haze of battle he saw a figure turn to him. Lithe beneath the torn clothes, obviously female even in undeath. The color of her hair and the tilt of her head almost stopped Arend's heart. "Lise?"
His wife made no reply, and her eyes held no light of recognition. Arend stood frozen in horror for only a moment. Then, with a moan, he raised his sword again.
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