Chapter 1: Death of a King
The cold, harsh breeze swept across him as he lay on the frozen ice. Only moments ago the paladin Tirion Fordring had somehow escaped his icy prison, Ashbringer in hand. Fueled by the Light itself and with a powerful swing Tirion had brought his holy relic down upon Frostmourne, the infamous soul devouring sword and his weapon of choice. With the release of over six years of trapped souls one in particular caught the Lich King's particular interest. The ghostly visage of a well dressed elderly man appeared with a worn and chipped crown upon his brow. At the same time he wondered how he even felt the biting chill of the North. Never before since his transcendence had he felt such pitiful feelings of uncomfort.
The apparition of the late King Terenas muttered a few arcane words and the lifeless forms of the adventures slain about the Lich King arose back to life, as if from a deep sleep. The Lich King noticed this with contempt; they were to be his next batch of great champions as he continued his campaign of slaughtering this world. Tirion stood silently in observance while members of both Alliance and Horde looked on in awe as the events folded out before them.
It was then he felt a glowing warmth inside his right gauntleted hand, a necklace he had kept there for so many years now…its heat radiated stronger than ever before. With its warmth there was a rekindling of memories, ones he had tried to banish from his mind on an almost daily occurrence lately. Some shred of his mind and soul refused to let this shard of past humanity be let go. He looked about the frozen cavern and realized how silent it was, only the heavy breathing of the living and the screeching wail of the wind. His mind…was silent. No longer did the dark whispers of Ner'zhul proliferate his mind. It seemed…peaceful. It was then he recognized the identity of the ghost before him.
"Father! Is it…over?" Arthas Menethil spoke, now clearly the dominant personality in the Lich King as he lay on death's doorstep. "At long last. No king rules forever, my son" Terenas replied, a hand on his son's hand. Arthas briefly looked at the shattered remnants of Frostmourne, the wicked blade finally destroyed, and then to Tirion with a stare almost in thanks. With a considerable amount of effort Arthas removed Ner'zhul's crown from his head and let it roll to his side. Arthas looked to the spirit of his father once more and replied "I see...only darkness...before...me..." Any remnants of life smoldered into oblivion in Arthas' eyes as his body went limp in the arms of the late Lordaeron king. A small chain with an ice encrusted locket slipped from his fingers and came to rest on the ice. As the spirits of the dead now took their leave and continued their journey to the great beyond Terenas picked up the locket and handed it to Tirion. "Without its master's command, the restless Scourge will become an even greater threat to this world. Control must be maintained. There must always be a Lich King." With those last damning words, the spirit of King Terenas II disappeared.
As Tirion Fordring broods over the Lich King problem he looks down at the icy locket in his hand. As hard as he tries it will not open. "Damn thing, probably just another unholy object of that bastard's creation." Upon running a gloved finger over the back he sees an inscription. "My heart belongs to you, my Prince." –Jaina. Tirion points a finger over to a night elf hunter. "You girl, Jaina Proudmoore should still be with Muradin and King Varian, go to her with haste and bring this." Tirion proceeded to hand her the necklace and then turned his attention back to the matter of who is to be the new Lich King.