Druid of the Claw
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: East Lansing, MI
In case anyone's reading this, I finished the last part. It's pretty long, but since most of it is dialogue that happened in game, there's not that much actual content. I enjoyed writing this at the least, so hopefully someone enjoys reading it!
Cann moved back in, shouting wordlessly and raising his mace to deliver a deathblow to Arthas as he knelt with Frostmourne deep in the floor. The Lich King pulled Frostmourne from the ground with inhuman speed and swung it at the head of the hammer in the paladin's hand. The impact caused the mace to fly out of his hand and skid across the ground a few yards away. The paladin rolled the opposite direction, avoiding the quick backswing of the Lich King. Sam could not find a way to engage the Lich King without hindering Cann's combat. The Lich King turned as a large mass of molten lava hurdled toward his back from behind him. As it impacted his dark armor, it spread out across the metal and instantly turned to soft rock, rapidly cooling as a result of coming into contact with the legendary frozen armor.
Orala grunted in disgust as he prepared to unleash the elements again. The Lich King utterly ignored a blast of shadow to his leg from Yamichi's direction as he pointed Frostmourne toward the air and called more servants.
"Valk'yr, your master calls..." the Lich King's summon made Sam cringe inwardly - he had faced the insidious Valk'yr before and his spirit sank as he thought of the prospect of fighting more than one at a time. Cann had regained his hammer and his senses and bolted toward the Lich King from the side. The Lich King, showing fatigue for the first time thus far, raised the hand not holding Frostmourne with a grunt and thrust his open palm in the paladin's direction. Shadowy tendrils erupted and closed around Cann's torso, causing him to stagger and fall to his knees, dropping his weapons to clutch his chest. No! Sam sprinted forward as fast as he could and slammed headlong into the back of the Lich King with his shield. His dreadful opponent staggered forward and Sam ducked to avoid the sweeping counterattack from Arthas. He heard Cann scream in absolute pain on the ground, a sound he never expected to hear from the soldier of the Light. He saw a bright flash of Light surround the ardent defender as he met the Lich King's gaze to face him in combat. Any fear Sam had felt before now vanished as he kept his will steady. So it comes to this. As they sized each other up, the Valk'yr arrived.
Dashing from high above like a falcon catching its prey, it struck before anyone saw it. Grasping Hyx by his throat in a headlock, the mage struggled to break the corporeal grip. Being caught off guard was not something a mage planned for, and his years of mental training had not given him the physical strength to break free of a situation such as this. The Valk'yr moved toward the edge to drop the mage off the side, but was slowed due to the struggle. Sam knew he should do something, but it was a small voice that he did not heed at all, due to the opponent who stood opposite him. He was vaguely aware of Ginsan sending a freezing blast toward the Valk'yr as the Lich King flicked Frostmourne toward Sam's left leg. It was an awkward strike, meant to test Sam's quickness. He lowered his shield to his side to catch the blow and dropped to one knee to put his entire weight behind the shield, expecting the unnatural strength behind the quick swing. Just as soon as he felt the jarring impact on his shield, he turned to catch Frostmourne with his own sword as the dread blade quickly arced back around the other side of him. He redirected the blow with a resounding clang. Arthas stepped back and his icy blue eyes glowed intensely. Sam thought he almost seemed satisfied that his attacks were rebuffed. Why would he possibly be satisfied by that?
There wasn't much time to think before Jollner yelled from behind him. Sam risked a glance to the side and noted that Hyx had been freed from the grasp of the Valk'yr by Ginsan. The Valk'yr struggled to gain altitude as it flew away from the glowing axe of the death knight, one of its legs maimed. A large black splotch of inky shadow was on the ground where Hyx struggled to his feet. As he glanced at it, it seemed to grow larger. Sam heard the distinct clap of air as Hyx showed up twenty feet away from the dark shadows in the blink of an eye. As he engaged the Lich King in combat once again, he heard Ginsan rasp that the Shadows would grow larger if they came in contact with life. Sam repeatedly engaged the Lich King, each time deflecting or avoiding his attacks. The continued barrages from the combined efforts of the magic users did not seem to have much effect on the Lich King's armor, and Sam began to wonder how they could get through.
On the third engagement with the Lich King, he finally caught a breakthrough. Sam, knowing Arthas would be overconfident with his superhuman strength, acted as if the last blow from Frostmourne had made his shield arm go numb. He let his shield hang at his side and limply grasped the hilt of his sword. As Arthas lunged forward to plunge Frostmourne into Sam's exposed chest, Sam spun away from it and brought his sword down with a powerful backhand on Arthas' right legplate, devastating the armor there and leaving a wide rent in it. He heard more than saw Arthas' counterstrike and tumbled forward underneath the wide swing as the Lich King roared in anger. Turning around to jump to his feet, he finally felt the dread creep in from the back of his mind as he saw the Lich King raise his palm toward him. The shadowy tendrils burst forth as Archie leapt in from the side to bury a dagger deep in Arthas' upper thigh, where Sam had opened his armor. Sam heard Arthas roar again before his vision was shrouded in pain.
He lost control of his senses, and found himself immersed in an unbearable torment. Pain like he had never felt. He was aware enough to tell that nothing was happening to his body. There were no wounds, no breakage. As he writhed on the ground, he knew his soul was what was being destroyed. In a span of a second, Sam's path to this moment flashed before him. He remembered why he, of all people, was here at this moment. To defeat the Lich King. To end the life of two tortured souls and at the same time countless others, which would thereby save the lives of thousands more. He remembered in that instant that this was their only hope. That if he failed, all would be lost. Gathering his will in that brief second or two, Sam fought to ignore the pain and felt his soul come back into contact with his body as he stood and tried to gather his senses again to make his last stand.
The life-giving magics of his healers coursed through him as he surveyed the fight and saw Cann engaged in combat once again with the Lich King. Archie knelt on the ground trying to pop his shoulder back into place, presumably a result of the new Valk'yr that was now flying away from him, shrieking as it burned from the the fire magic of Hyx. The previous Valk'yr was locked in a trance as it hovered above them. A stream of sickly green magic came from its hand and connected directly into Jollner's chest. The paladin struggled to remain upright as he channeled the Light into himself to keep himself alive. Another blotch of defiling shadows now covered a good portion of the platform as he saw Yamichi trying to run out of it. He glanced up to see a third Valk'yr poised to strike. He tried to shout, but before he even got the first part of a word out, the Valk'yr was upon the warlock. The ancient winged spirit flew toward the edge, purposely taking the route over the shadows on the ground.
"I can't get to him!" shouted Sam. "I need ranged attacks on that Valk'yr!" Orala and Hyx turned, but their incantations took too long, and the Valk'yr neared the edge. Sam felt the all too familiar pang of guilt as the Valk'yr released its hold on Yamichi, letting the warlock fall to his death. As he fell, he suddenly vanished from the air and showed up in a ritual circle that he had prepared at the beginning of the fight. Sam breathed a sigh of relief through his bewilderment and made a mental note to ask the warlock why he had never teleported before. Meanwhile, the Valk'yr rose to join the two others as it shied away from the magical attacks of Orala and Hyx. Ivorey was now locked in a fight for her life with the second Valk'yr, and Sam watched in horror as the third channeled its sickly green energy toward Kynne. His heart sunk as he saw the Lich King again raise his palm to shoot the dark soul reaping tendrils toward Cann. Sam rushed forward in an attempt to distract the Lich King again to give Cann a chance to survive. Cann dropped to his knee and a blinding column of light shot down from the bleak sky as the paladin struggled to keep hold of his soul. Sam heard the Lich King grunt with disgust to deflect Sam's attack once again. A powerful two handed swing connected with Sam's shield and sent him on his back. The Lich King chuckled as he thrust Frostmourne into the air again, calling on the blade's eldritch magic.
The blast hit Sam while he was still on his back. The sheer force of the wind was enough to take his breath, not to mention the unbearable cold that mixed with his increasing fatigue. I'm not sure I'll make it to the edge this time, he thought, panicking. He jumped to his feet and willed himself toward the edge and whirled to block the blast with his shield when he heard the grunt of effort as the Lich King sent a blast out. He heard the distant cry of the Valk'yr as they flew away from the cold as well. He arrived at the frozen edge of the platform after the third blast and saw the rest of his party on their hands and knees, trying to regain their compsure.
Before he could recover his strength, he felt a sharp pain in his back, as if someone had buried a dagger in his spine. Eyes watering in pain and immobilized by what was happening, he caught himself on an elbow and watched as a ghostly white embodiment of himself began attacking Archie. He had a vague feeling of himself shouting at the rogue, saying something about how he never wanted this. The limber Night Elf was able to avoid most of the attacks, and struck back as best he could with his daggers. He was aware of Jollner doubling over in pain as Cann leapt from the side to deliver a deathblow to Sam's raging spirit. As soon as the spirit dissipated, the pain in his back subsided. Sam rushed to Jollner and engaged the spirit that was now fully formed behind the paladin.
"Never any credit!" the spirit of Jollner said as it dodged a forehand from Sam. "I keep everyone intact, and they yell at me because they still get scars and feel pain! Well now I'm done, you can just..."
The spirit's ramblings were cut off as Sam slammed his shield in its face. It fell over, and Ginsan followed quickly with a decapitating blow from his axe. Jollner stood again and began apologizing, but Sam didn't stay to listen. Yamichi was sprawled out on his stomach, and a spirit was behind him, trying to run after Orala. It cackled maniacally as Orala ran away from it, imbuing it with the element of fire as he moved. Sam ran to intervene between the two and took a hit from the spirit that knocked the wind out of him and sent him onto his side. He covered his body with his shield as the cackling spirit sent its foot down into Sam's chest. The shield didn't seem to help much and Sam gasped for air. He saw the spirit become engulfed in flames completely before he felt his lungs take in air again. He got to his feet once more with the help of the healing magics of the druid. He saw Cann and Archie bring down another spirit further away that was in the likeness of Ivorey. Vision blurred from fatigue, Sam turned to look at the Lich King and saw that the platform had glowing cracks in it again.
"MOVE! Back to the middle!" Sam bellowed as he rushed to get away from the edge just as it began to collapse. He looked down to make sure he still had footing on an intact floor, and when he looked back up, a frost orb was moving toward him and was already no more than a foot in front of him. Knowing he was about to die, Sam closed his eyes; he didn't want to see how high up he was even if he was falling to his death. He felt the heat and saw the flash of light through his eyelids as it was incinerated by Hyx just in time.
"For Lordaeron!" Cann engaged the Lich King again with a warcry. This fight has already taken long enough, Sam agreed in his thoughts.
"This ends now, Arthas!" Sam ran out of another dark splotch on the ground to finish the fight, adrenaline giving him enough energy to ignore his fatigue. As he neared the Lich King, he saw Cann become surrounded once again by swirling shadows. Cann soon became infused with a cool blue glow, which Sam knew was a blessing from Ivorey to suppress pain. Swinging his sword at Arthas' head, Sam felt his forearm go numb as the Lich King brought Frostmourne up to stop its momentum. Before he could recover from the shock of the blow, the Lich King kicked Sam in the chest, sending him flying backward a few feet. Groaning as he slowly rolled to get back up, he looked up to see Arthas grab Ginsan's axe haft mid swing with his left hand and hold the death knight in place, while at the same time pointing Frostmourne straight up into the sky. Spirits erupted from the tip of the blade one after another until there was a large group floating around above Arthas' head. Finishing the summoning, Arthas threw Ginsan's axe to the ground, Ginsan going with it. Sam was already on his feet, moving to intercept again. As the Lich King turned to him, palm forward, Sam was expecting it. He dropped to a knee and raised his shield to cover his entire body. The shadowy tendrils rammed into his shield and tried to go around, but Sam found that they had some kind of physical form as he shook his shield vigorously, causing them to fall to the ground. Fire and lightning covered the air above Sam as he fought desperately to get another hit in on the Lich King. The spirits shrieked as they were burned by the magic. They slowly began angling toward each person. Some of them winked out of existence as the elements unleashed by the mage and shaman overwhelmed them. Soon, one reached Kynne and exploded in front of her, causing her to fall and cry out in pain. Sam heard the screams of others as the vile spirits reached them and released their ghostly energy as a bomb. After they had all exploded, the entire raid group was fighting to recover from the pain.
Meanwhile, Sam continued to spar with the Lich King, getting bruised and battered while doing nothing to the inhuman combatant he was facing. After getting pushed back once again by the Lich King's attacks, the Lich King thrust Frostmourne forward, pointed directly at Sam's chest. Sam saw a stream of shadow enter the left side of his torso and felt it constrict around his heart. His breath caught, and he froze in fear that he might destroy his heart if he moved. The Lich King laughed, cofident in his power.
"Frostmourne...hungers..." Arthas grimaced through the strain of the spell he was maintaining on all ten of his opponents. Sam felt the same soul ripping pain from before as he lost control of his body. The only thought he had was absolute fear as his consciousness drifted toward the point of the outsretched runeblade. As his vision swirled around, he saw ten bodies fall limply to the ground, dropping their weapons.
Sam's consciousness snapped back in after what seemed like an eternity, and he found himself standing in a mostly circular room, similar to the platform they had been fighting on. The broken walls and the floor were coated in ice, and the horizon was pitch black. He looked around and saw his nine companions next to him with a bewildered expression that he was sure mirrored his own. Suddenly, a humanoid shape formed in front of him. It looked like an old man, garbed in royal clothing, every part of him nearly the same color as his snow white hair. The last thing to form was the royal crown on his head, which was a dead giveaway to who it was.
"You have come to bring Arthas to justice? To see the Lich King destroyed?" The voice of King Terenas Menethil II was still strong, even through the anguish and torment he had endured. Sam nodded, dumbstruck.
"First, you must escape Frostmourne's hold, or be damned as I am; trapped within this cursed blade for all eternity." The King looked up and Sam saw the giant mass of swirling spirits, same as the ones they had just faced. Except now there were hundreds of them, and they all moved toward him.
"Run!" Sam didn't wait to see if everyone followed. He ran forward, away from the spirits as they exploded where he had just been. A new group appeared ahead of him, and he cut to the side to avoid those. They exploded behind him as more and more spirits came from the black void that surrounded the room. Sam barely avoided wave after wave, and he saw the rest of his group doing the same around the room. Before long, his breath became ragged, and his legs began to lag behind when he told them to move. He doggedly stepped around an exploding spirit, and ran face first into one just as it exploded. It knocked him flat on his back, where he lay for a moment as he temporarily blacked out. He opened his eyes again and slowly rolled to his hands and knees, his ears ringing as his vision went in and out of focus. He could see a spirit floating toward him, but he had no strength to move out of the way. Just before it got to him, he felt himself get pulled back away from it. The force was too swift to be a person, and he felt like he was being sucked down a drain as he saw the room with the spirits fall away underneath him. He closed his eyes to avoid the sickness he felt at the sensation.
Then he felt a sharp pain in his chest and opened his eyes to find himself sprawled on his stomach with his cheek touching the cold ice-covered floor of the platform on top of Icecrown Spire. He could feel the cold surrounding his heart and fought for a moment to control his breathing. It seemed like he hadn't ever appreciated how nice it was to breath in air, even if it was cold and hurt once it was in your lungs. He did a slow push up and raised his head to see everyone around him trying to recover from being inside Frostmourne, just as he was. His gaze fell on the Lich King, who had fallen to a knee, using his sword to hold his weight.
"Argh...Frostmourne, obey me!" grumbled the Lich King, struggling to hold himself up. He had clearly not expected them to come back out, and had therefore spent a great deal of energy to steal their souls. With a yell to stifle the pain he felt in standing upright, Sam channeled his rage into a barrier blocking the weariness and pain. He knew this was the only opportunity they would get.
"Now! For Azeroth!" He got there first, driving his sword at a downward angle toward the Lich King's shoulder. Although Arthas raised his fist to deflect the blow, Sam connected, destroying the ornate metalwork of his shoulder plate. Arthas followed with his other hand, punching Sam in the side and sending him to the ground off to the side. As he struggled to get back up, Archie moved in swiftly and planted a dagger in the Lich King's exposed shoulder before he was also sent flying from a backhanded blow to the stomach. Magics from all three spellcasters flew in from all directions and broke through the enchanted armor. Arthas growled in pain and wildly attempted to swing Frostmourne at nobody in particular. Then Ginsan moved in from behind and buried his axe in the plate on the Lich King's back. Arthas roared and arched his back, falling forward to catch himself with his hands. As Ginsan raised the axe to deliver the deathblow, the Lich King stood with a speed that should not have been possible and swung Frostmourne with his good arm to knock Ginsan's axe to the ground. Ginsan stared in confusion at how quickly Arthas had moved despite his injuries as the Lich King spoke in a calm, but still terrifying voice.
"Face now your tragic end," Arthas smiled as he gestured in a sweeping motion. Sam felt almost nothing as he fell forward onto his knees, then felt as though he was falling into a pit as his body cascaded forward onto the cold floor.
Somewhere in his remaining consciousness, Sam knew he was dead. He looked down and saw his body in a heap on the ground, surrounded by nine others. A man in dark, shrouding armor stood hunched over and breathing heavily among the dead. He grasped a large sword in his hand that seemed to be glowing with dark magic. Sam felt like he should remember who it was and what had happened here, but he felt too apathetic to try and figure it out. He hovered there, watching. That seemed like what he was supposed to do. Seemed like what he was meant to do. Just watch and wait for the rest of eternity, never actually doing anything.
The man in the dark armor straightened and began to speak, his deep rumble seemed to pass right through Sam's thoughts.
"No questions remain unanswered. No doubts linger. You are Azeroth's greatest champions! You overcame every challenge I laid before you. My mightiest servants have fallen beneath your relentless onslaught, your unbridled fury...Is it truly righteousness that drives you? I wonder." There was a hint of human curiosity in the man's voice underneath the inhuman rumble. He turned toward a large block of ice jutting out of the ground on the other side of the platform.
"You trained them well, Fordring. You delivered the greatest fighting force this world has ever known...right into my hands." A note of satisfaction now entered his tone as he continued. "Exactly as I intended. You shall be rewarded for your unwitting sacrifice."
The man turned his back to the ice to look at the dead bodies sprawled around him. He raised his glowing sword into the air, favoring his shoulder. Wisps of dark matter escaped the sword and flew into the bodies on the ground.
"Watch now as I raise them from the dead to become masters of the Scourge. They will shroud this world in chaos and destruction. Azeroth's fall will come at their hands...and you will be the first to die." The man laughed as heartily as his deranged voice would allow. "I delight in the irony."
Sam felt a brief pang of sorrow before his passive state returned. He could not remember, but he felt as if it was something he did to cause this. He watched as the shadow energy continued to stream from the sword into the bodies. A glint of light caught the corner of Sam's vision and he shifted his gaze in that direction. He knew that nobody spoke, but he heard a voice in his thoughts speak clearly.
"Light...grant me one final blessing...Give me the strength...TO SHATTER THESE BONDS!" The last words echoed through Sam's consciousness, and he began to feel something other than the overbearing sense of apathy. A surge of light bright enough to hinder his vision erupted from the block of ice. As the flash subsided, he saw a shining man standing amidst the shattered blocks of ice, wielding a massive square edged sword with a hovering disk embeddeded in the back edge that seemed to radiate light. The man paused for a moment, gathering his senses and fighting through the cold before fixing his eyes on the other man, who was lost in a trance with his spellwork. With agility that betrayed the white beard and hair on his head, the man ran forward and leapt into the air over the man in dark armor, bringing his sword of light down across the middle of the upraised runeblade, shattering it with a clang that shook Sam's senses. The man in dark armor hunched forward, staring at the ruined blade in his hand with disbelief. Struggling to stay standing, the man fought to speak.
"Im...possible..." The man's will visibly faltered as he shook his head.
"No more, Arthas!" The other man's angry voice cut through Sam's mind like the first light of dawn. He began to feel more, a sense of hope. "No more lives will be consumed by your hatred!" Sam wanted to act, he wanted to be there shouting alongside the man with the shining sword.
With sword at the ready, that man stood and watched as thousands of streaks of light began to erupt from the pieces of the sword across the ground and still in the other man's hand. Soon, the entire platform was bathed in unnatural light as the streaks began to swirl around the dark plated warrior. The air seemed to roar as the light formed streams of energy, slowly lifting the man helplessly into the air. He yelled in anguish, kicking and swinging feebly as his feet left the ground, knowing deep down that there was nothing he could do. He stopped struggling when the form of a man appeared in front of him, looking up at the man under the crown on his ghostly head.
"Free at last!" The man's ethereal voice seemed to be a shouted whisper as he looked up at the hovering man in awe. "It is over, my son. This is the moment of reckoning."
His son. Arthas. Memories began to flood back into Sam's consciousness as he saw the ghost of Terenas begin to cast a spell.
"Rise up, champions of the Light!" On the last word, the King's hand rose in a flourish and the Light flooded Sam's vision.
He opened his eyes to see the intricate scrapes and scratches on the ice, and he wondered what caused each one. Then the pain flowed back into his body like a river breaking through a dam. He groaned as he rolled to his side, where he saw his companions behaving similarly. My companions. The Lich King. He yelled as he quickly stood, whirling around to take in the sight he knew was there. Sure enough, suspended in the air among the spirits of Frostmourne, was the Lich King. All of Sam's pain and weariness vanished as he saw his helpless foe in front of him. He started forward as fast as his nearly spent body would take him. He heard Tirion's voice crack as the paladin shouted a cry of victory for all those lost to this vile being.
"THE LICH KING...MUST...FALL!" The high crusader of the Light stepped forward, sword in hand, to end the reign of Arthas. As the spirits parted to let him through, Arthas slowly moved back toward the ground to be on a level with the Highlord. With ragged breaths, the Lich King's voice sounded even more grating than usual.
"Now I stand, the lion before the lambs...and they do not fear." Ashbringer plunged through the Lich King's chest, but he showed no semblance of fear or pain. Tirion pulled the sword back out slowly as the Lich King surveyed Sam and his group. "They cannot fear." His eyes focused intently on Tiron as the spirits lifted away from him, causing him to fall forward onto his hands and knees. The impact caused him to grunt, and his helm fell forward onto the floor, clattering away from him. Sam saw ice-colored hair and a long nose as he watched Arthas Menethil reach for the helm weakly. His strength completely sapped, Arthas collapsed onto his side, where the ghostly spirit of his father caught him in his arms, allowing him to face upwards. Arthas grasped at his father's chest in desperation.
"Father? Is it...over?" Arthas' voice was now a only a whisper, the growl of the Lich King gone. He sounded...afraid, Sam realized. So part of him did survive. Terenas closed his hand around the plated gauntlet on Arthas' arm.
"At long last," said the last King of Lordaeron with sadness. "No king rules forever, my son." Arthas' eyes lost focus as he fought for breath.
"I see...only darkness...before me." His eyes rolled back and he sighed his last breath as his hand fell to the ground. Terenas set his son down and stared for a moment at his remains before he spoke, his voice taking on a note of conviction.
"Without its master's command, the restless Scourge will become an even greater threat to this world." He stood, turning his attention to Tirion, now in front of the rest, all gaping in disbelief. The King's pale face was grave as his pupil-less eyes stared into Tirion's.
"Control must be maintained...There must always be...a Lich King..." The sky flashed and a loud rumble shook the Spire as Terenas and the thousands of souls imprisoned in Frostmourne passed on. Shielding his eyes with his hand, Tirion slowly moved toward the helmet that lay a few feet from Arthas' body. Sam could only gape as Tirion lifted it in his hands to peer into the empty eye sockets.
"The weight of such a burden," began Tirion forlornly, "it must be mine. For there is no other to..."
"Tirion!" A labored, growling voice broke in from behind them and Sam whirled with weapons at the ready, thinking the Lich King might not be dead. He instead saw the ruined remnants of Bolvar Fordragon sitting on the slab of ice that was the Frozen Throne. The mis-shapen mouth forced Bolvar's words out, fighting to make his vocal cords cooperate. "You hold a grim destiny in your hands, brother...but it is not your own."
Tirion stared in horror, just now remembering that Bolvar was there, and seemingly surprised that he was alive and able to speak.
"Bolvar! By all that is holy..." His words trailed off as if he did not know what to say.
"The dragons flame...sealed my fate," said Bolvar, knowing that he had to offer some explanation. "The world of the living can no longer comfort me. Place the crown upon my head, Tirion. Forevermore - I will be the jailor of the damned."
As Bolvar spoke, Tirion turned away from him, shielding the helm from Bolvar as if his former ally was trying to take it by force.
"NO, old friend. I cannot."
"DO IT TIRION!" The Higlord's last words were drowned by Bolvar's outburst. "You and these brave heroes have your own destinies to fulfill. This last act of service...is mine."
Slowly, going against every fiber of his being, Tirion turned back around and looked at Bolvar, sympathy covering his face. He stepped cautiously toward the throne, frowning.
"You will not be forgotten...brother," said Tirion quietly.
"I MUST be forgotten, Tirion!" said Bolvar loudly. "If the world is to live free from the tyranny of fear, they must never know what was done here today."
Tirion, now directly in front of Bolvar, hesitated a few seconds before he nodded silently. He placed the fabled Helm of Domination on Bolvar's blackened head. Bolvar kept his head bowed as the platform began to shake. Chunks of ice and metal fell from the spires around the platform as a dark golden glow flashed in the eyeholes of the helmet. The gem set into the metalwork on the brow of the helm abruptly changed from blue to orange as Bolvar slowly raised his head to look at Tirion while he backed away in wonder toward Sam and his group.
"Tell them only that the Lich King is dead..." Bolvar's voice was strong now, the sound of authority that Sam remembered from Bolvar's time as Regent Lord and Commander of the Alliance armies in Northrend. However, as he continued, it gained another edge. A sound that made Sam cringe as it merged with Bolvar's to create a new one.
"And that Bolvar Fordragon died with him..." The ice of the Frozen Throne rapidly expanded as it encased Bolvar completely, locking him in place. The glowing eyes were bright as ever as the noise and commotion reached a deafening level.
"NOW GO." The new voice of the Lich King echoed through Sam's mind, just like it had when Arthas was the vessel. He felt tears streaming under his helmet and his vision blurred as he looked toward Hyx, who was shouting for everyone to gather close. While Hyx bowed his head in concentration with everyone else in a tight circle around him, Sam heard the final command from the Lich King vibrate through every fiber of his being.
"LEAVE THIS PLACE - AND NEVER RETURN." He closed his eyes as Hyx's teleportation took effect, and wondered if he would ever want to open them again as they hurdled away from that terrible place.
Last edited by Slaman : 07-17-2012 at 09:16 AM.