Shurpuff says: So awhile ago, I lost a bet. I bet that a Justice League movie would be released way before a Warcraft movie. Now we're weeks from the latter's release, and the winner's waiting impatiently for me to cough up. Damnit, Warner Bros.
She didn't specify that this story would be a masterpiece, just that I write one, then publish it to . So, here is my attempt:
To turn Arthas into the protagonist of every Japanese fantasy anime, light novel, manga, or video game that ever was, and possibly will be. Oh, and naturally it's a harem. But no game-like mechanics, which is somehow the vogue these days. I'm playing "loosely" with the elements, so no strict adherence to canon, nor trope-calling.
Therefore the story's not entirely serious, and neither is the prose. Just read along if you can stomach it, and comment or rebuke at the end. Or not.
So here we go. See you beyond the line break.
"... When I was born, the very forests of Lordaeron whispered the name... Arthas.
"... is what my father keeps on saying. But mother once told me something different. She said that it was the women who screamed my name, when I was presented to the crowd for the first time."
Enter our protagonist: Arthas Menethil. Crown Prince of Lordaeron, and one of the most pivotal figures in the history of Azeroth. In another time he'd be a tragic figure, in more ways than one. But that's some other time, some other place. Here his destiny is yet to be fulfilled, and we're going to watch it unfold. Like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
Trainwrecks aside, our boy Arthas's face is nothing but. He's handsome, he's blond like his daddy, he's a lover and a fighter, like every human in Azeroth is supposed to be.
We're totally skipping his childhood phase, because the story's gonna grind out slow otherwise. Anything interesting that happened then shall be revisited through
(Flashbacks).
So you'll know it's something that happened, y'know, before. Because I say
(Flashbacks).
And when the flashback ends, it'll say
(Flashback ends).
Now, that whole description of hot Arthas is technically a flashforward. If you'll recall "canon" Arthas, he's that long-haired dude appearing in at least two Warcraft 3 covers. So he's not that long-haired here, because a.) it'll make him look like a girl, and b.) it'll overlap with a lot of characters to be introduced later on.
And c.) remember, this is supposed to be a story dreamed up by a Japanese author, or at least by whoever artist decides to interpret their work. If he's not going to be a plain-ass looking dude with black hair and forgettable face; if he's going to be blond, then he'll at least have short, spiky hair. Like Naruto. Or Cloud Strife.
With that said-
Wait, sorry what? He's not?
Ah, understood.
Well, sorry about that, dear readers. Just had a sudden, rather unexplained flash of inspiration. It seems "our" Arthas'll still look like rockstar Arthas. a.) he'll look like a girl, so it's funny, b.) it'll overlap with certain future characters, which will be funny, and c.) let's just say this particular Japanese artist designing "our" Arthas tries to break the mold of protagonists.
So. Again, with that said, have a prologue.
"Silvermoon, bastion of the High Elves.
The undead armies of the Lich King have swept through the kingdoms of the Alliance like a scythe through wheat. Their numbers rise with every human that falls.
At its head is a dread figure, a warrior of peerless skill and merciless power. A Death Knight, the Lich King's champion.
Inside the elven city, the last remnants of the Alliance gather. A force of elves, dwarves and humans prepare for what may be their last stand.
Elves are masters of the arcane arts. Within one of their most guarded sanctums, several figures prepare a spell that might bring the tide around.
Boom. Boom.
The cowled human looks up, startled by the sounds. "They've come," it says.
"The defenders at the gate cannot last long," says a slender elf. "You must complete the circuit, now, or all is lost."
"Patience, Sylvie," says a short figure, a robed dwarf. "It takes a lot of time to wind up the holy energies from the Nether. As always, let us trust in the light."
"Damn your light," says the elf. "It did not help then—it did not help him."
A wave of depression passes through the room. Each figure's shoulders droop, even the elf's, as they recall something sad from the past.
"Now, now," says another human, clad in green. "I have every confidence we can complete the spell before they can even breach the gates!" This one's voice is confident.
"That is true," says a lilting voice, coming as if from thin air. "You would have succeeded, had we not already pierced the veil surrounding this city."
"!"
Every single figure whirls to the entrance, where another robed figure stands. And standing right behind him, is a figure unmistakable in form and menace—the Death Knight.
"How is this possible?" one of them cries.
"Grgh! We must have taxed the ley lines too much!" says another.
The elf says nothing, prepares an arrow to shoot.
"You have done well," says the armored figure. He steps forward, swinging the ice-blue sword to lay on his shoulder. "To resist to the very end. Unfortunately, all of it ends... now." He raises a hand, as if begging alms. "I shall say it again, everyone. Please end this futile resistance. Let us join together again, that we may rid this world of the evils that plague it. Join me now, and I shall spare Silvermoon from the plague. I can do this—the Dreadlords only care for the Sunwell."
None of the others say anything for a few moments, before- "In that case," says the first human, "We shall also extend another plea. Please stop this foolish crusade. Abandon this quest, please, and let us give the dead their rest. I know we can accomplish a lot—we can defeat the Lich King, and these demons. Do not taint your blade, your soul anymore...
"Arthas."
The armored figure lowers his hand. "...I see. It seems we are once again at an impasse. He turns to the robed figure beside him. "Kel, return to the front. Have the meat wagons begin the barrage."
"And leave you alone, milord?"
"I can take care of myself, lich."
"As you wish."
"As if we'd let you!" roars the elf. She looses an arrow, which just passes through the one named, Kel, like she were a mirage.
"Such a shame, Sylvie," says Kel mockingly. She disappears.
"It pains me to have do this, everyone," says the one named Arthas. He raises the sword. "But perhaps Frostmourne can help change your minds."
"You'll kill us, Arthas?" asks the greenclad one.
"I don't know why I ever liked ye, fallen one," says the dwarf. She nonetheless raises her staff. "But perhaps I can remedy your disgrace now."
"Arthas," says the robed figure. It looks to be in tears. "Please..."
"I'm sorry, Jaina," says Arthas. He raises his sword.
Elsewhere, a boy named Arthas wakes, screaming.
The nightmare had been so vivid, though its details fade, as the seconds pass.
He only really remembers the one who had been named like him, the one named Arthas, who is really scary.
Each night, he fervently hopes never to see his face again. Each night, he does.
Why does he dream of that man? he wonders.
The boy lies back in bed, shivering. It takes a long while for him to go back to sleep.
(Flashback ends).
Oooh... quite ominous right? Now have an intro monologue. Onward to part one!
"The First War. A time of blood and thunder, when my people endured the ravages of the orcish hordes.
"The Second War. A time of valor and steel. When my father held the line, and the Alliance broke the Horde—forever.
"Years have passed, and our realms are in peace. Together with the dwarves of Ironforge, the elves of Silvermoon, and the mages of Dalaran, we have ensured it.
"But there is a strange unrest in my heart. My father's hair grows whiter with each day, and with it grows my duties. I know of war, of the Light, of statecraft. And yet I fear I do not know of kingship. A paladin I may be now, but I know I cannot just lead my people by the heft of my hammer. I must be strong, just and wise. But I do not know if I am all three yet, or even one of these, at all."
So that's basic stuff: the insecure MC, narrating major events that came before, as well as showing Arthas' precious concerns about his impending responsibilities.
We cut to a monastery somewhere. Maybe it's that place which the Scarlet Crusade invaded later on. Arthas gazes down at the forest of Tirisfal through a window in his private tower.
The door opens behind him. Arthas turns, and sees his mentor: one of the greatest heroes of the Alliance, Uther the Lightbringer.
Uther looks like something herculean sculpted of an old, wrinkled tree. He's got an overwhelming presence, seeming like he could shoot lightbeams from the gaps between his beard-hairs. He looks sorta like "canon" Uther, except really, really buffer, eyes a bit squintier, dressed in paladin blue and bearing a pimp libram hanging off his waist by a chain.
Arthas salutes. "Sir Uther."
"Enough with the pleasantries, lad," says Uther. "It seems the King intends for you to learn to the capital. You shall need to be riding off soon."
"Father?" asks Arthas. "What can he want of me?"
"Is it not obvious, m'boy?" Uther says, guffawing. "You must be ready to take up the crown and scepter!"
Arthas smirks, like he's sharing a private joke with the Lightbringer, whose laughing face actually looks real nice, breaking the tension from his previous appearance.
"I doubt it, Uther," Arthas says. "Father's still got a few more years left, just you watch."
So Arthas rides down on his trusty steed Invincible (who isn't dead, nor the sonovabitch what hasn't dropped, screw you drop chance), down the pleasant, foresty road (that isn't dark and forbidding yet), towards Lordaeron (which isn't sewer city, yet). If this were a game, he'd be having a tutorial about riding a mount or something; otherwise, Arthas explains more about the kingdom of Lordaeron.
When he arrives, a crowd of people, most of them peasants, half of them women, cheer and scream his name. He takes it all in stride, as he's done many times before. But again, he's got his little doubts, so he monologues just a bit about that.
It turns out that the King's got a special "quest" for his son.
"This shall be your final test," he is told, Terenas seemingly becoming less of a father and more of a sensei dictating the student's last test, "We've had reports of orcs around the area of Strahnbrad. You are to root them out of course—but you also need to glean from them the whereabouts of the rest of their kind. I fear Strahnbrad will be but the first of many scourges if we do not root them all out where they grow. Can you do this?"
Arthas knows he is being given this because he's always been headstrong as a commander. He gets the job done, but always using overwhelming force and not with cunning. More a hammer than a stiletto. Like almost all protagonists, unless you were a schemer type, like say Lelouch Lamperouge, or Naoe Yamato.
"I shall not fail you, father," he says.
(As an aside, daddy looks fairly old enough to croak. Remember that CG scene from Reign of Chaos? Yeah, that old.)
Arthas sets to gathering a troop of men, small in number, because they're more an escort, and also because he'd been informed that Uther and a number of paladins from his order have already gone ahead to take command of the defense of Strahnbrad.
We are introduced to Arthas' most trusted lieutenants, Captains Falric and Marwyn. They shall henceforth be side comedy pair number one, and are otherwise static background characters who probably won't ever be plot relevant.
Falric is a big, burly man, stoic in nature—though he eats a whale's portion. Marwyn is a bit less muscular, making up for it with agility and a glib tongue. Together they can be counted upon to: comically fall for enemy traps, chase after mysterious women in the wilds, or get cursed by touching an ancient artifact. Their plot armor is thick enough to always make them come back from each experience with no adverse effects.
On the way to Strahnbrad, they stop by a small village. We shall call it First Light. Because it's quite imaginative. It's night-time, so they have to encamp here. The villagers are naturally all too pleased to host the prince.
Talking to the village mayor, we learn of 1.) rumors of plague in the north, 2.) rumors of an orcish exodus to the south, and 3.) fears of a warlock in the vicinity.
Zing! Number three gets Arthas curious. When asked to elaborate, the mayor says that just yesterday, some men had come back from the forest with claims of sorcery being performed there.
"As thanks for your hospitality, I shall assist you in this matter!" Arthas declares.
"You are very kind, milord," the mayor gushes.
Arthas takes a group of men, including our sidekick duo, to investigate. Soon they come to a clearing, and Arthas spots magical lights in the distance.
Arthas rushes forward eagerly, but then is beset by a wave of frost. He senses strong magic pulsing in front of him. He calls on the Light to form a shield, which successfully blocks the frostbolt.
He runs again, and then trips over something. That something utters a muted "Kya!"
Confused, Arthas holds his hammer up and calls on the Light to turn it into a torch. He sees a cowled figure lying face down on the ground. It groans, and flips around to reveal:
The first girl.
"Jaina?"
"Urgh... Wha—Arthas?"
"Wha—what are you doing here?" he asks, helping the girl up.
"Mmmm... I was working on a project when I heard some noises behind me... was that you, Arthas...?"
"Yes. We were investigating rumors of sorcery from First Light. Was that all just you?" He smirks. "What kind of project gets you all the way out here anyway?"
"Hush," Jaina says. "...It's a secret."
First girl get!
Arthas now considers this woman. Jaina Proudmoore is technically the Lady Proudmoore of Kul Tiras, the nation not ruled by a King but by an Admiral. As a child, she'd come to be fostered at Lordaeron while representatives from Silvermoon came to the castle to test her magical aptitude. He'd met her then, and had become friends, though their relationship was... unique, as was the girl herself.
She is ostensibly shy, though Arthas knows that was just because she liked to think. She liked to think a lot. That makes her speech come all indistinct, sometimes even hard to hear, and riddled with ellipsis. Fans will hate or love the character quirk.
She also does this thing where she pulls her cowl over her forehead when she's embarrassed by something Arthas says or does.
Like right now.
"Well, you sure look beautiful, Jaina. I almost didn't recognize you for a moment."
"Heh? Um... Er..." Jaina bows, pulls the cowl over her head. "Th—Thank you... You look good, as well," Jaina certainly has blossomed, Arthas thinks, from the girl he'd known.
While she's not an avatar of sexuality as Blizzard's artists would have us think most girls are, she is drawn to be beautiful and curvy, her cowl giving her a bit of a mystique. Remember we are doing this from the perspective of a Japanese company/artist writing for a potential fanbase, a portion of which demands the desires of hot-blooded males of any age be sated.
Her cowled form is her distinctive silhouette, separating her from the rest of the characters to come. Every picture of her has her with cowl down. And when she lets the hood down: whoa! It's like she's a completely different person. And she only lets it down when she's "serious".
But make no mistake—this young lady's got a mean magical punch! The mages of Dalaran thought of her as a prodigy after all, as proved in this
(Flashback)
"... Im... Impossible," the elf says.
"Mmmph... The scale is still climbing," Antonidas remarks.
The child's hand is still on the crystal, and the surging force within the chamber only grows.
"Mayhap we can stop the experiment now?" cries a random person—well, this might actually be Jaina's maid or something.
"I—I can't..." Jaina says, tears in her eyes. "I... can't stop...!"
"What?" They all cry.
"The crystal is fusing with her magic!" cries another elf, whose features are distinctive and has long hair and despite the situation is gazing at the human child like she's a prime rib.
"Jaina!" Our young MC, Arthas, shouts. "That's enough!" Though he's still a kid, he braves the power surging through the floor and places a hand on Jaina's shoulder. At his touch she flinches, and she lets go of the crystal. The whirlpool of energy fades, and she collapses, unconscious into Arthas' arms.
"That was... quite an experience," Antonidas remarks. "No doubt about it, the Lord Admiral shall be pleased to hear his child has much potential!"
(Flashback ends)
As we can see, Arthas and Jaina are about as close buddies as childhood friends can be. It remains to be seen if it'll blossom to something more. After all, we still don't know Jaina's perspective, but we can easily tell how she feels from the way she interacts with Arthas right? Right?
We hear present day Jaina explain to Arthas that she was actually about to meet with him at the capital. Apparently some crazy loon managed to upset the leading council members of Dalaran, and she was sent to investigate.
Then, along the way, she got curious about some irrelevant thing, and tested her hypothesis in this very spot. Apparently she lost track of the time, until just a few minutes ago when she felt the presence of people whom she first assumed to be bandits.
Arthas laughs. "That's just like you," he says. He pats her on the shoulder, making her blush (he doesn't notice, obviously). "Quite fortuitous then, that we meet. I am headed for Strahnbrad, to solve the orc problems there. Perhaps you can stay at Hearthglen while I sort that out."
"I... shall accompany you," says Jaina quietly. (Her voice is firm, mention that Arthas can't really see her expression through the cowl)
"There shall be a battle, Jaina," Arthas says seriously. (he is concerned)
"I can handle myself," she replies confidently, and with a gesture, she freezes Falric and Marwyn inside a solid chunk of ice.
For a moment, Arthas looks like he'll argue more, but he relents. "Hah! It seems you can."
They head back to First Light, where they tell the mayor that all is well. There is... actually not much celebration since times are hard, but they are given a share of food for supper.
While at camp, Arthas once more observes Jaina's quirky behavior, while also learning new ones. For instance, she's now got the tendency to just stare at nothing for minutes on end without responding to anyone, or that her skill in magic has grown that she can conjure elemental familiars without a sweat.
Jaina catches him looking, and asks, "...What?"
"Nothing," he says, averting his eyes.
Early the next day, they break camp to continue their march for Strahnbrad. Along the way, Jaina and Arthas discuss the matter of the orcs. Arthas is not too fond of the "creatures", but he does express some sympathy when Jaina expresses the abuse the orcs endure at the internment camps.
Just a little bit of background infodumping regarding the First and Second War, along with each person's respective views about orcs. Surely the readers already know much of the details; we ain't changing the settings that much. Now Jaina's got some sympathy for the orcs' plight, being a gentle soul; while Arthas cannot bring himself to care for those that would have enslaved them, had they won.
Their banter is cut short when Marwyn shouts, "Fire, in the distance!"
And indeed, there is a great plume of smoke emerging from the distance. In that instant, Arthas can feel his insides turn to ice. That way lay Strahnbrad.
Strahnbrad burned.
Shurpuff: More to come.