Cold...desperately cold. He was surrounded by nothing but black stone, grey sky, and white falling snow. Death...there was that too. Everywhere around him were bodies of those who had come before him, those who were killed and turned into souls of the damned. He couldn't remember how many of his own brothers and sisters he'd had to cut down over the last couple of hours. It was something that weighed heavily on his conscience since he first witnessed the deadly power of the Scourge for himself.

Back in the Eastern Plaguelands, the land formerly known as Lordaeron, he had first witnessed one of his paladin brothers infected by the vile contamination, only to be cut down a short time later. When he rose again, what followed was the most horrifying moment he had ever experienced in his life. He had to fight for his life against someone he'd only known as a friend for the many years he'd been at the Chapel. He tried to help him, tried to snap him out of it, but nothing he did or said worked. He might have tickled the man for all the good it'd do. But when he finally cut him down so that he did not rise again, he looked at his shaking, blood-soaked hands, then shouted his anguish to the sky.

Now, he was used to it. He saw it as a mercy for those who had been taken by the Scourge. His sword was their release from their servitude to the dark king of Icecrown. But even with his desensitized nature to mercy killing his own brothers and sisters, this was too much. Their group had been burning through Icecrown with swords, axes, bows, guns, and magic like nobody thought they could. They had worked so well together that those who followed behind felt their morality boosted a hundred fold at seeing the complete slaughter of the undead forces. They'd had their hurdles along the way of course. A few of the more powerful allies of the dark king tested their mettle in more ways than one. But even those never stood a chance. And now, he knelt on a balcony, crafted of the same saronite stone that the castle itself was made of. All around him were faces of sadness and pain, watching him as he knelt. Snow fell around him, uncaring of whether he was comfortable or not, and the wind blew and pierced them like spears of ice. Still, nobody moved as they watched the sad scene unfold.

He knelt, holding a body. His armor now dull and colorless from countless battles that they'd endured, and his white thick fur cloak blowing in the wind as if it were made of paper. Even his silver hair blew about wildly, unhindered by the band that held it in place. His blue mystical eyes stared down at the white orbs of the one he held. She smiled, he did not. They had sat in this position for minutes now, saying nothing, just staring. Tears running down his face had frozen to his cheeks as he continued to watch her smiling white eyes. Finally, the silence, which had previously only been dominated by the sound of the howling wind, had been broken. He held the woman, her armor as black as the abyssal night, her hair long and draping to the ground as he held her up. He reached up and ran a finger over one of her long, pointed ears as he spoke. "It's not fair..." he mumbled, a fresh wave of tears spilling out, only to be frozen as they rolled down his face.

Her cold hand reached up slowly and wiped away the ice from his visage, her beautiful face smiling brightly as she did. "It never is..." she said, coughing heavily from the wound he had put in her. "I must go now...but..." she said, coughing again as blood poured from her mouth. "I'm so...happy I was able to see you one last time." she said.

"No...don't leave me..." he begged, clutching at her as if she were the most precious thing on the planet to him.

"I must...but know...that I love you." said the death knight as the paladin held her close. She reached up one last time and stroked his face gently. "My sweet..." she whispered out, before her eyes finally closed for the last time. Her arm fell limp to the stone below her and her head sagged to the side.

"No...don't..." he gasped, burying his head in her neck as he clutched her broken body to his. "Please! I love you too..." he choked, as the others around him watched, their own tears now falling in sympathy with his. The cold had seeped into him and mixed with his devastation, making him shiver violently. Finally, when he realized that she was gone, and not coming back, he loosened his grip on her once more. After studying her beautiful, smiling face one last time, he closed his eyes gently. "May the Light keep you warm in the afterlife." he said in prayer.

His hands began to glow immensely with holy light, the power enveloping her form as he laid her down and placed one of his hands on her head, and the other on her stomach. Once it covered her form, she slowly began to grow brighter and brighter until the crowd had to shield their eyes from the awesome glow. When they all looked back, clearing the spots from their eyes, they were astounded to see that she had completely vanished. The Light had taken her from them. The paladin still knelt in the same spot, his hands still aglow as they watched. One of the other members, a young gnome, slowly approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm...I'm sorry..." she mumbled to him, her own sparkling eyes filled with tears as well.

He reacted violently, lifting his arms high and slamming his palms into the ground. The holy light spread from his palms across the saronite floor, cracking and splintering it as if it were made of paper. The spider web of energy began spreading across the castle floor, consuming all that stood before it, stone, furniture, bodies, there was nothing that did not succumb to the Light. "If he keeps going, he'll kill all of us!" shouted an orc warrior that stood behind them, her eyes watching in horror as the web spread up the wall above them and began tearing it apart as well, causing the stone to collapse down into the room.

The gnome, after stumbling back, watched in shock as his spread the power throughout the room. She knew he had to be devastated, perhaps even dead inside. She did the only thing that she could think of, and threw her arms around his neck in a hug. Soon after, a young Sin'dorei priest stumbled past the crumbling of the floor and did the same. The paladin stopped, his hands raising and pulling them close. "We're sorry." said the young elf. But he said nothing. They both pulled away and looked up to him to make sure he was okay.

The paladin just looked up at the tower before him, half of its face torn away from his unprecedented attack. Clenching his fist, he growled, then yelled the name of the one he was going to kill. "AAAAAAAAAAAARTHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!" he shouted, shaking the walls of Icecrown.

OoOoO

The dark king sat on his icy throne, his eyes closed as he listened to the howling of the winds of desolation. His eyes cracked open slightly when he heard the loud anguished yell of someone broken. His glowing white eyes opened fully as he smiled and stood from his seat. "Yes...come forth." he said in his loud voice. "Frostmourne hungers!" he shouted in a gleeful tone.

OoOoO

Author's Note: As mentioned in my other story, Fallout 3: Wasteland Waltz, this is the prologue to my current story The Dark Citadel. But this is going to be the rewrite for it. I intend to write it better, describe things better, and hopefully do a much better job of immersing you into the story. Though I do want to let everyone know, I won't be seriously writing for this one until I at least finish my current story, that being the one listed above. So if you can't wait for the chapters to come, you can go ahead and read the current version, which will be left up until a time when I catch this story up. Until then, I hope you enjoy this prologue, and anticipate things to come.