"Soldiers, we stand here today for the glory of the Kingdom!" Galen's voice boomed across the drill ground, amplified by the warrior's commanding shout skill. He infused his words with a fervent passion, his gaze sweeping over the assembled troops. Then, he delivered the oath, a powerful declaration he had adapted and made his own:
"The blight spreads in darkness, and the dead find no rest. I seek not dominion, nor a name etched in song. Mine is the path of fire and faith, as old as the first dawn. I shall endure in sacred bondage, bound to the cause eternal. I am the flame that dances in the abyss. I am the blade forged in consecrated steel. I am the light that scorches what festers unseen. I am the voice in the silence, the bell that tolls for the wicked. I am the ward, unyielding, before the last light of Stromgarde. By blood unbroken and breath unwithered, I give my spirit, my fury, my final cry unto the Scarlet Flame, from this dusk unto the world's last embers."
The effect of his words was electrifying. A palpable energy surged through the crowd, a mixture of awe and fervent devotion. Galen raised his voice, his declaration ringing out with unwavering conviction.
"I hereby declare that today, the Stromgarde Scarlet Flame Army is officially established!"
"For this night, and all the nights to come!" The thousands gathered on the field roared in response, their faces illuminated by an almost fanatical zeal as they gazed upon their prince.
Galen pressed on, his voice a battle cry. "The Arathi Highlands are our home, the land of our forefathers. Yet, the trolls encroach upon our borders, harassing our people, destroying our farms, plundering our homes, and harming our families. We vow to be the unyielding sword and shield of the kingdom, the unwavering guardians of our people. We shall resist the troll menace with every fiber of our being. Stromgarde needs us! Advance, Scarlet Flame Army!"
"Advance! Advance!"
"Scarlet Flame! Scarlet Flame!"
The soldiers, their hearts ablaze with righteous fury, raised their longswords and muskets in unison, their voices a thunderous chorus that shook the very foundations of the castle.
"Depart, Scarlet Flame!" Galen commanded, his voice filled with pride and determination.
The assembled formations, led by the steadfast Varokal, began their march, a crimson tide of steel flowing out of the drill ground and towards the heart of Stromgarde, their destination the city gates.
"Full army, advance!" Galen's voice echoed, a final, resounding order.
Ten formations, a thousand strong, moved in perfect synchronization, a spectacle of disciplined power. The rhythmic tramp of their boots resonated through the city, a crimson torrent of disciplined might flowing along the central avenue.
Upon the highest platform of the castle, King Thoras and a select group of high-ranking lords observed Galen's oath and the army's departure.
These were not ordinary men. Seasoned veterans of court and battlefield, they possessed keen eyes and a wealth of experience. They recognized the extraordinary nature of the force that had just been unleashed.
Omar and Varokal had each recruited a pair of squads, composed of warriors of exceptional skill. Thoras and the lords were aware that the formations drawn from the noble houses were also composed of elite warriors.
But it was the final three formations that truly captured their attention. These three hundred soldiers moved with an almost supernatural precision and discipline, their bearing and equipment marking them as warriors of the highest caliber. Their origins remained a mystery, known only to the prince himself, as was the identity of the powerful mage who led them, a figure whose mastery of the arcane arts was undeniable.
While marveling at the prince's hidden strength and strategic acumen, the lords were also struck by the sheer potential of the Scarlet Flame Army. A thousand elite warriors, if expanded and supported by auxiliary forces, could become a force capable of reshaping the kingdom's destiny.
Initially, rumors from the palace had led many to believe that King Thoras would provide his son with his full support in this endeavor.
However, it soon became clear that the king's backing was far more limited. He had granted Galen a single cavalry squadron, the right to collect resources from a single mining area, and... nothing else. The lords were well-acquainted with the prince's personal wealth: several modest manors and a small caravan. Such meager resources, they reasoned, could hardly sustain an army. Even if he managed to recruit soldiers, what quality could they possibly possess, given the prince's limited means?
Furthermore, the southeast mining area had been abandoned for years. Re-establishing its productivity would require a substantial initial investment.
And even if the mines could be made operational, the ever-present troll threat loomed large. It was the trolls, after all, who had forced the abandonment of the mines in the first place. Unless the army was strong enough to ensure the safety of the miners, operations could not proceed, and without the revenue from the mines, the army itself would be unsustainable. It was a vicious cycle.
Thus, in the days leading up to the army's establishment, many had dismissed the prince's ambitious plans – his independent command and the revitalization of the southeast mines – as little more than a childish fantasy. After all, was the prince not a mere twelve years old?
Despite his obvious talents, he was, in their eyes, still a boy, lacking the maturity and experience to undertake such a monumental task.
The lords who had gathered to witness the ceremony were therefore stunned when the prince announced the formation of his new army to the assembled populace.
The Scarlet Flame Army was an elite force, far exceeding their expectations.
The nobles from the Dabyrie, Newall, and Carson families exchanged knowing glances. Their confidence in Galen's promises regarding the mining rights had been significantly bolstered.
The Scarlet Flame Army continued its advance.
Stromgarde, built as a bulwark against the trollish hordes, was designed in the style of a fortress. Multiple layers of walls divided the city into distinct districts. The main thoroughfares ran along the inner sides of the city walls.
The first city gate beyond the drill grounds served as the city's central hub. The two main roads intersected at a crossroads, and the four imposing city walls were lined with throngs of onlookers.
The formations moved with unwavering precision, their military bearing both solemn and awe-inspiring. They exuded an aura of indomitable strength, a force as implacable as the mountains themselves.
The rhythmic thud of their boots against the cobblestone streets seemed to possess a strange magic, silencing the usual cacophony of the city. The crowds lining the city walls fell silent, their attention riveted on the spectacle unfolding before them.
The street, a hundred meters wide, provided ample space for the army to march. The ten formations proceeded in perfect order, their passage a breathtaking display of martial discipline.
Although their march covered only a short distance, a mere hundred paces, the sight of these ten formations had a profound impact on the citizens of Stromgarde, who, in their daily lives, lacked such grand spectacles. The memory of this day would become a cherished tale, recounted and embellished in countless conversations around dinner tables for weeks to come.
And the names of Prince Galen and his Scarlet Flame Army would soon spread far beyond the walls of Stromgarde, carried by the city's caravans to the other human kingdoms, to the dwarven halls of Ironforge, and even to the distant elven city of Silvermoon, becoming a legend in the making.
Galen, accompanied by his personal guard, followed the army out of the city. After regrouping his forces, he set out for the southeast mines.
Before the ceremony, Galen had informed King Thoras of his subsequent plans, including his intention to meet with the heads of the noble families who had expressed interest in contracting the mine, to discuss the logistics of resuming operations.
Thoras, having witnessed the impeccable discipline and formidable strength of Galen's new army firsthand, offered no objections to his son's plans, allowing him to proceed as he saw fit.
Galen's heart swelled with a sense of exhilaration he could barely contain. He finally possessed the strength, the influence, and the opportunity to play a meaningful role in shaping the destiny of his kingdom.