SiudaEnglish 4Midterm Creative WritingMy son, The day you were born, the very forests of Lordaeron whispered the name… Arthas. My child, I watched with pride as you grew into a weapon of righteousness. Remember, our line has always ruled with wisdom and strength, and I know you will show restraint when exercising your great power. But the truest victory, my son, is stirring the hearts of your people. I tell you this, for when my days have come to an end, You shall be King.
The words my father told me still echo in my mind. Lordaeron is destroyed, and my father is killed. What kingdom shall I rule? On my way back to the ruins of the destroyed city, I recognize my friends and the people of the town laying on the ground. Slaughtered. No hope of reviving and saving their lives and restoring my kingdom.
I am the only one left. The stable of which I kept my favorite horse was burned to the ground. The air was polluted with the stench of sulfur and decay.
Smoke still was rising from the kingdom, all to be seen was a mysterious dark figure on the remains of where the cathedral stood. “Who’s there?” I scream out as I approach the figure. Observing him as I got closer, I began to make out what clothing he was wearing.
Dark violet robes with golden insignia on it that resembles a sword with two maces behind it and a pike with a skull on both end running horizontal to the hilt of the sword. All of the items were dripping of ice and had a blue glow to it as if they were moving. I grab the figures shoulder turning him around so he is facing me. “Are you the one who slaughtered the people of Laurdoren?” I screamed in anger.
The man grinned and wiped the tome that was still in his hand. The book was covered in blood and dust and looked like it was at least a thousand years old, and used to kill. The man began to explain who he was. “I am the leader of the undead, I was the one who set upon the plagues on this land months before, and now am here to reclaim all of the bodies of those who lived here.” As he said this, he began to look over my shoulder and murmur weird words that seem to be even more ancient then the book he was holding. I turn around and see the dead corpses eyes glow the same blue color that he had on his robe, and the bodies began to animate.
They all stand up, one by one, ready to be commanded. As I turn back towards the man he asks if I would like to join the dead army, becoming an animated corpse, or if I would be the ruler of them since I was royalty. The thought made me sick. Ruling the dead. I began to kneel down and hunch my body forward as I began to vomit.
The man kicks my cheek and my nose, causing it to break and bleed as I fall towards the ground. ” I do not have all day!” He says as another blow hits my chest. “Will you die with your fathers fallen kingdom? Or will you start your own!” Gasping for air I murmur the words of My Own. and he squats down so he is almost leveled with me. Looking up I see his hand turn blue and he reaches out towards me, as he got closer I felt a chill go down my spine. His hand went right through my chest, and I begin to feel my heart become stone cold.
My eyes begin to run towards the back of my head as he freezes my insides. The last thing I remember is coughing up blood as he removed his hand from my chest, in his hand was my soul.I woke up in a unfamiliar land.
In fact, unfamiliar everything. The air was cold and the ground was white and bare of vegetation. I was not in a castle, but in a flying carrier of somesort. I assume magic was flying the vehicle.
I turn away from the window and look at the mirror in the room. White hair? I murmur. I am only 24 years old and have long silky white hair. As I continue to examine myself I notice the color in my eyes become brighter in color from a dark forest green to more of a teal color. After some time there is a knock on the door and it opens.
“Sir, I am Baldreck. Your main advisor.” He took me a tour, showing me the armory and the forges of the ship. At the armory I am distracted by a sword that seemed to be whispering my name.
I grab the sword out of its glass case and Baldreck says, “That is the sword of the lich king.” “Who is the Lich king?” I ask. ” That is you my lord.” Two years go by since Lordaeron is in ruins. My powers as a king has only been increasing.
Inbedded in the hills of Icecrown, is my kingdom, there I sit on my throne of ice. I sit on my throne, remembering the days as a kid. All of my training to become a knight. The power to have any women I want. And most importantly, my father. I hope I am making him proud as i continue his kingship in a new kingdom. Next to me, is my sword that I have named, Frostmourne.
The sword gives me the power to control and raise the dead. My army has been gaining numbers substantially. The people of Azeroth have been trembling of fear that I am the new Lich King. There hasn’t been one for hundreds of years.
A courier runs up the steps to my throne and gives me a note of there being an organization coming to stop me and my rule. Put a stop to my kingship. I thank the courier by raising my hand in a fist and pulling his life out of his body and turning him into a lifeless body. I get up from my throne and proceed to leave my citadel. I approach my barracks and command troops to set up blockades and to spy on the rebelion. My army isn’t just made up of dead corpses. There are knights and warlocks that have claimed their alliance towards me.
I then began to set course for the training grounds.I decide to walk on foot by myself. This is my land, and the only thing I have to worry about is the savage wildlife and maybe a couple of bandits. Walking through the forest I come to the ruins of what appears to be a shrine.
Inside the shrine there was a single mirror that was facing the floor. I grab the top of it and pull it up. I look at it and don’t believe my eyes. I take off my helmet to see if what I saw was true. The mirror, showed the surroundings around me, but not my body.
My armor, my face, hair, eyes, everything. It all seemed to vanish. Seeing this sight I smash the mirror with my fist, causing it to shatter. I am no longer Arthas. The curse of becoming the king of the dead, has taken that away from me.
I began to realise that I was just a body for the curse of the true king. I have no choice to continue the bidding of the curse. I continue my journey to the training grounds.
Seeing the newly trained knights gave me hope that I can destroy all life in order to control the entire world of Azeroth. In order to establish a strong army, I needed the strongest fighters. I gathered all the trainers and trainees and began to individually pick the fighters I believed were worthy, and made them duel one another.
Those who died, were going to be foot soldiers as the undead while those who won, will be those who will be the closest to me. My Knights of Death. During one of the duels, I hear the beat of a war drum in the distance. I halt the duels and command everyone to get ready for battle. Holding down the entrances from the east and west of the hill while the south was impenetrable because of the mountain while the north was the cliffside. The army began to approach us from the north-east.
At least a thousand of paladins and warriors that were coming to put a stop on my kingdom. We were slightly outnumbered, releasing this I lift up my sword and stab it into the ground where a portal opens and on the other side was the barracks, where my undead warriors came pouring out. We did not wait for them to approach the grounds, and we charge them. Blood, limbs, swords, everything that a soldier on the other side had was being scattered across the battlefield. I run charging sword behind my head and cut off the head of multiple soldiers and with my other hand use the power of the curse to pull the lives out of other soldiers bodys. The fight only lasted a little over thirty minutes. Their army is wiped out completely, while my army has been decreased by a few thousand. My undead soldiers are mindless and do not have strategy other than swinging at the opponents and are easily to be killed(again).
As I leave the battlefield I realise that I am injured from the battle. My right side is sliced open. I am in no pain from the cut. I seal the wound with a part of my cape and return to my citadel. A month has passed from the day of the battle at the training grounds. My side has not healed and am still losing blood at a very slow rate. My soldiers and camps have been depleting to a point where I have almost nothing.
I can feel that my time is near. Sitting at my throne a commander runs too me and informs me that the rebels have breached the citadel and are on the way here and I only have two hours at most until they arrive in my throne room. I tell him to not to panic and send all troops to the different wings of the castle in order to protect me, their king. He began to ask me if there were any allies that we can summon in order to fight off the enemies. I told him, ” There are only two sides in this fight. My side, those who are forced to fight for me. Or those who oppose me.
There is no inbetween.” I tell him to return to his station while I get settled for what might be the last battle. The screams echo throughout the entire castle. My throne sits on the very top of the castle, a flat area coated with snow and ice formed in the shape of a circle with no walls, and directly across is the stone steps and ice throne where I sit. The doors of my throne open and I knew what awaited me.
“Arthas! The Silver Hand is here to put an end to ur reign!” Shouted the paladin that was in front of the other twenty five men behind him. “There is no Arthas here, only the lich king” I reply with, but do not recall even saying. The curse has taken over my entire body.
I get off my throne and wait at the bottom of the steps. “If you are still in there Arthas, fight the curse.” I begin to scream, but no words came out. “Arthas was gone when his soul was removed years ago, the only one here is the king of the dead.” “No more! No more lives will be consumed by your hatred!” The paladin screamed as the archers behind him began to shoot at me.
The arrows all halted in air and looked at the paladin , ” Tirion, I am going to kill you last, the same way I killed your father years ago.” I raised my hand and encased him in a block of ice. I fix my eyes on the archers and launch them off the edge of the castle. “Only real fighters fight with sword. Being able to see death face to face.” The rest of the warriors of the silver hand charge me at once, I summon gargoyles and other undead creatures to fight with me. One by one, the enemies fall to the end of my sword.
I kill all of them. “Tirion, you thought you could kill me this easily? I am at full power! Arthas is gone and the curse has suppressed him.” I get closer to the frozen paladin encased in ice with my sword in right hand, and left hand reaching out towards the dead troops “You have given me the greatest fighting force this world has ever known…right into my hands, exactly how I wanted. You will be rewarded for your unwitting sacrifice.
Watch now as I rise them from the dead to become masters of the undead. They will bring death and destruction to all of Azeroth. And you will become their first victim.”The lich king chanted.
“Light, grant me one final blessing. Give me the strength, to be unbound from this tomb!” Tirion yells out as he leaps out of the ice and smashes my sword with his. “Impossible” I cry out as Tirion resurrects the soldiers that were previously killed. “Rise up, champions of the light!” The souldiers are all brought back to life but not by the Lich King and the power of the curse, but by the power of the Light and hope. My sword is destroyed and my powers are gone, my last moments are the swords entering my body. The curse of the Lich king left with the sword being destroyed and myself, Arthas to be killed.