***Hey Guys it's me I have a new name I used to be ScoutSniper1216, before that I was Oceanographer1216 thanks for bearing with me. My other story "Small Town Horror" well I am having trouble continuing. FEAR NOT! I am not stopping it. I am just spreading out and trying to get the creative juices flowing. Hope you all love the new story***
Chapter 1: Beginning of a Slippery Slope
~In a crowded tavern in the Eastern Kingdoms sits the teller of this tale. He smokes a long stemmed pipe as he drinks his favored brew. Who is this man you ask, I am that man. I tell tales of journeys that I have tread, and now I tell them to you. I have been to the northern reaches of this world. I traveled as far as I could. I even battled the Lich King though he was too strong to defeat. I will tell you of this journey if you have an hour or two, just sit here at my table and have some food and beer.~
This is how the tale begins. The story of one named Leonias Storm-Cleaver started at that very tavern a few months ago. Leonias entered the tavern and walked up to the bar. He ordered a beer and watched a couple of travelers talk at the table in a corner. He heard them speak of a group of rogues that attempted to kill the Lich King and bring peace to the land. Leonias was a conqueror for the Alliance and bore the ring to prove it. It was a silver ring with the blue crest of the Alliance on the face and either side. Leonias looked at the ring and thought to himself, "The Lich King is evil but he is great and powerful too. If I were to defeat him I could bear Frostmourne and possess his power. Then I could conquer lands far into Orgrimar." With this Leonias placed some gold on the bar as a tip and left.
When Leonias reached his home he turned around and locked the door. He looked at his fine sword with joy. It was a beautiful steel blade with dark burgundy leather handle, gold hilt with rounded ends. The pommel was also gold and was shaped like the ends of the hilt. It was a rounded triangle with diamond in the center. It was a magnificent sight to the eyes of the warrior.
As Leonias bustled about his home gathering supplies in his enchanted rucksack he thought of all the glory that would come to him when he gained that power. He new the curse that Frostmourne bears and he reconciled that any price was worth paying to further the reach of the Alliance. At the time it did not occur to him that the same thing had happened to Arthas Menethil who was blinded by the power of the rune-blade and did not realize it was transforming him.
With the last of his supplies packed including his trusty churchwarden pipe with plenty of tobacco, tinder kits and an axe for felling wood, food rations, and many health and mana potions he was ready. He strapped his hunting knife that his father had given him to his belt, put his sword and belt around his waist, and finally slung his bow and a quiver of arrows to his back over his large golden pauldrons shaped like lion's heads. He donned his black satin cloak under his armor and left his home.