Title: A Friendly Word of Advice
Description: "Sylvanas would never betray King Leoric."
Notes: Inspired by Leoric's reveal trailer.

"You're an even bigger fool than I thought."

Leoric looked up from the laptop. It seemed he was still adjusting to getting used to it (and the technology in general), judging by how slowly he was typing on the keyboard. His eye sockets simmered dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," said Sylvanas. "You don't even know the kind of people you had on your team."

"Oh? You watched my match?"

"I did. You absolutely slaughtered them." And it was a very interesting match, getting to study this new Hero firsthand from the comfort of the tavern. He walked like he owned the damn Hollows, smashing people left and right and sucking the life from their souls. Poor Jaina, her brains kept flying out of her ears because of that massive mace. It was glorious; so was the green look Nova was sporting as they watched the match (although Sylvanas could've really done without Brightwing curled up and shaking away on her lap).

Leoric laughed. "So I did. These…Heroes…didn't stand much of a chance. Especially that long-eared fellow. He is an elf like you, yes? So much bark but so little bite. He fell so easily. Hmmm…but that doesn't answer my question. How does my team make me a fool? We were unstoppable! We had those poor sods running witless, as though they had soiled themselves! When the League truly begins, I should like to have them by my side when we ride through the Nexus. There is nothing more reassuring than a Hero who can never truly die."

Sylvanas scoffed. "Your so-called 'allies' are some of the biggest betrayers the Nexus has come to know. Believe me, Your Majesty, I happen to be well acquainted with their personal histories! One of them firsthand!" One undead king was nightmare-inducing. Why did the Powers That Be have to go full retard and pull another from the fabric of space and time?

"How so?"

"Let me give it to you straight from a longtime Hero." Sylvanas put both hands on the table and leaned down low so only he could hear. One by one she pointed out each specific person in turn. "Illidan there betrayed his people for power and got locked away for ten thousand years. Kerrigan betrayed some old man who used her for his own gains before he too betrayed her, and Zagara over there tried to betray Kerrigan but she got her hide handed to her in a battle. Then you have ARTHAS"—who sat brooding in a dark corner, gauntlets off on the table, fingers flying across the keys on the little cell phone in his cold, pale hands (texting Darkness, no doubt)—"betrayed all of mankind, killed his father, brought the mother of all zombie apocalypses to his kingdom, and marched on my homeland so he could bring back some dead man who was just as crazy as he was! He made me into this!" She thumped a fist to her still heart.

Leoric gazed at them all with a slow, mechanical turn of his neck, face ever unchanging. "Huh."

"Indeed," said Sylvanas, nodding gravely. "You may be called the Undying, but you must always be aware of your surroundings. Those people could decide to take advantage of you when you least expect it, and when your back is turned—BAM!" She slammed that same fist on the table, making the laptop jump and rattle. "You have to spend a good minute or so swinging that big thing around, trying to regain your health as fast as you can so you can turn the tide around. Your, ahem, 'death', could mean a loss and a great, big mark against your record, and that just won't do when the draft picks start. The cleaner the better, you understand."

Leoric said nothing.

"And really, you're the Skeleton King! Arthas? He may call himself the Lich King, but he can't stay on the field—not like you can. He needs help from a horde of zombies to keep him afloat. He even uses an undead dragon to shut down forts and freeze people in place. You? You can just trap someone in a literal dead end and beat them senseless. You can even strut your stuff like a true king and show them what for!"

Leoric hummed thoughtfully. "So you're right! There can only be one king of the undead, and that person…shall be me!"

"That's right! And you don't even have to wait to prove your mettle! In this world, nothing stays dead for long—Heroes, wildlife, and the undead. But you, you are more than that!"

"I am!" agreed Leoric.

"You are something else!"

"I am!"

"You are the Skeleton King of…! I'm sorry, what were you king of again?"

"That would be Khanduras, my dear."

Sylvanas quashed the urge to slap him. "Right. The…Skeleton King. Of Khanduras!" Oh yeah, picking up that stride like it was the Fall of Quel'Thalas all over again.

"I AM!" roared Leoric, rising from his seat. Because the TVs were showing a match and blasting at full volume, no one paid attention to his triumphant outburst. "Ohhhhhh, I can't wait until we're called upon again! I am going to go up to that excuse of a king and put him in his place!"

"That's the spirit! Don't hold back!" It was also against the rules to fight outside of sanctioned fights, but Sylvanas could give less of a damn about the rules. The rules didn't matter when it involved Arthas! Or anyone, for that matter!

"I shall not! The Lich King shall know the taste of suffering, as I have!" Leoric cracked his knuckles, breaking off chips of bone and dust as he did so. "It would appear I was wrong about you, my lady. You are an ally I can trust to have at my back. In you, I see an ally who will never betray me!"

Sylvanas gave him a smile oozing with honey. "Of course, Your Majesty. You can count on me. Now go." She shooed him away. "Go kick his ass!"

Leoric tossed his head back and cackling. He hauled the mace off the floor and stomped toward Arthas, whose focus was entirely on the cell phone. Sylvanas watched with equal pride and amusement as the Skeleton King got the Lich King's attention by tapping a finger on the table. Arthas looked up, and from this far away Sylvanas couldn't hear what was transpiring between them.

There was no need. Leoric snatched the cell phone from Arthas's hand, crushed it in one powerful squeeze, and allowed the pieces to clatter from his grasp.

Arthas grabbed one of his gauntlets and smacked Leoric across the face with the back of it. Then he shoved his hands in them, picked up Frostmourne, and shoved the table aside against the wall, shattering it into splinters and kindle. He lunged at him.

Soon the tavern was embroiled in anarchy. Beer bottles, shot glasses, and magical spells flew across the room and ricocheted off the walls into furniture, television sets, and each other. Muradin bellowed from atop the bar, hammer and axe in hand, and bodily threw himself into a sea of patron and Heroes. Johanna flung her shield at Leoric and instead knocked the Lost Vikings down like nine pins. Somewhere in the midst of it all, Anub'arak screamed "RAAAAAAIIIIIIIIDDDDDDS!" and unleashed swarms of locusts and flying beetles upon the whole lot.

Sylvanas smirked, turned around, and walked away.

Nova and Brightwing were loitering around the threshold to the exit, observing the scene with disinterested expectancy and hyperactive excitement.

"Wow! You sure are good at being a manipulative bastard!" said Brightwing.

"I know," Sylvanas said smugly.

"You sure know how to get away with it, too," said Nova. She winced as Chen's barrel of booze more or less slammed into the back of an unsuspecting Reh'gar's head.

"And that is how I like to play the game," Sylvanas concluded. She raised a hand and slapped Brightwing's paw high, low, around the side and back again before she went out the door.