Hello, all :)
I am sorry it took so long, there's a lot going on with all the studying and stuff, so there wasn't much time for writing... not to mention several more projects in progress and I just can't do all of them at once... :)
Anyway, here it is, the next chapter... Halls of Reflection are one of my favourite dungeons in WoW, though it's hard to find a good group, because nobody seems interested in the story introduction, which is kinda lengthy, though I don't mind in the slightest, it's very interesting ... well, in any case, I've used the actual quotations from the game as always and since you have to fight the bosses, you can't very well see what's going on next door, so I dared to make it up somehow, hope you're gonna like it :)
Please don't think of my Arthas as a weakling, try to understand the changes he's going through right now and the longing for release from his cursed existence... he's still fighting with the Lich King within him as well.
So, bear with me -I'm trying to stay IC as much as possible- and I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes you might encounter.
Enjoy. Reviews are always welcome as well.
Halls of Reflection
The sound of quick, heavy footsteps echoed through Icecrown Citadel, metal against ice and stone as the Lich King strode to where his uninvited guests were already waiting for his arrival, though they did not know it yet. His new heart thumping madly in his ears, Arthas could feel the blood pulsing in his temples. Anxiety, anticipation... fear? He hadn't felt like this in a very long time, if ever. Eyes, glowing brightly blue closed up firmly and opened again. Calloused hands, wrapped in thick, leather gloves clenched and unclenched.
Suddenly, he came to an abrupt halt in front of an ornated saronite gate to the Halls of Reflection. In his mind's eye, he watched the ghostly image of Uther the Lightbringer erupting from withing the Frostmourne, called forth by Jaina's spell. He could clearly see the surprise on both their faces as well as the hungry look with which the blond mage's champions were regarding the revolving runeblade. If it was not for Jaina forbiding them to touch it...
Arthas pushed the door slightly open, banishing the memories of his finding the cursed sword in a cave withing the frozen depths of Dragonblight. He remembered vividly the bewitching whispers coming from it as the runes glowed brightly from withing Frostmourne's icy prison, calling to him, begging for release... Voice of his former paladin master carried to him with a surprising clarity, bringing the Lich King back from his reverie. He listened carefuly to their conversation, waiting in silence for the right moment. Jaina and the others had to know what needs to be done first.
„Jaina, listen to me." Uther sighed with exasperation and if he could, he would probably get hold of the mage and try to shake her back to her senses. „You must destroy the Lich King. You cannot reason with him. He will kill you and your allies and raise you all as powerful soldiers of the Scourge." the urgency and supressed rage reflecting in those words were unmistakable. The paladin could not understand the blonde's faith in her former lover and her determination to understand the motives behind his actions.
Jaina shook her head imperceptibly, face hidden beneath long, golden locks.
„Tell me how, Uther? How do I destroy my prince? My..." her voice finally broke, she could not say it. Not anymore. Single sob escaped through trembling lips and a strange warmth flooded Arthas' body upon hearing those words, he wished she had finished the sentence so much it actually ached, though he had long since forgotten the true meaning of the word.
A strong surge of hatred towards Uther, however, crushed the sweet scent of happiness, as it rose up within him like a wild beast, burning his insides as the paladin shouted: „Snap out of it, girl!"
Arthas' hands clenched into angry fists. He wanted to silence that puny little spirit, blabbering of what he knew nothing about. However, his former master continued without mercy or any sign of remorse or consideration towards Jaina Proudmoore's feelings for her betrothed she had stubbornly refused to let go of.
„You must destroy the Lich King at the place he merged with Ner'zhul – atop the spire, at the Frozen Throne. It is the only way!"
„You are right, Uther. Forgive me. I... I do not know what got hold over me." and it was not the meaning of those words, but the surrender with which they were uttered that pierced Arthas' heart like a knife. „We will deliver this information to the King and the knights that battle the Scourge within Icecrown Citadel." and Jaina bowed slightly to the paladin master.
However, the most important thing had not yet been said. And Arthas wished with all of his will it were not true, futile as such attempt might be. It would all be so much easier if the Scourge were to be eradicated to the very last putrid corpse...
Uther's expression was unreadable when he spoke after what felt like ages of silent hesitation, voice calm once again, though more urgent than ever. „There is... something else that you should know about the Lich King." the spirit sighed, his pearl-white eyes fixed into Jaina's sky-blue. The mage's brows furrowed sligtly with apprehension. „Control over the Scourge must never be lost. Even if you were to strike down the Lich King, another would have to take his place, for without the control of it's master, the Scourge would run rampant across the world - destroying all living things." there was a dramatic pause the Lich King thought rather pathetic and indeed becoming of the man Uther the Lightbringer had always been. „A grand sacrifice by a noble soul..."
In the Shadow Throne, behing the saronite gate Arthas' heart skipped a beat upon hearing the last words. Was it just him or had Uther known the truth all along? Could the paladin truly understand or was he just feeling sorry for the next unfortunate soul about to be trapped within the entity that was the Lich King?
„Who could bear such a burden?" Jaina's eyes opened wide and her voice brought Arthas back before he could fully indulge himself in yet another contemplation. Between the lines, however, he thought he could recognize her not being as shocked as she ought to be. Sylvanas must have shared this piece of information as well, it seems.
The paladin shook his head. „I do not know, Jaina. I suspect that the piece of Arthas that might be left inside the Lich King is all that holds the Scourge from annihilating Azeroth." and the fact that Uther could come up with such a theory surprised the Lich King. The old man came closer the the truth than he himself probably realized. Some of the respect Arthas had for his master so long ago, slowly crept back into his mind.
„Then maybe there is still hope..." Jaina clutched her staff to her chest, smiling hopefully.
Arthas' thoughts wandered off again and he was not sure whether he should be grateful for Jaina's faith in him or angry at her stubborn insistence on his redemption. He woke up with a start at that point. Something in the back of his mind nugded him. The time has come to step in before Uther reveals something he should not.
„No Jaina!" Uther's desperate voice got lost in a scream of agony as the far door burst open. He fell to his knee. „He... he is coming! You... you must..."
It was only a split second before Arthas decided to finally make the first step towards his uninvited guests, now focusing fully on the faces suddenly going white with consternation and perhaps a bit of fear as well. After all he did his best to release as much of the bone-chilling aura able to reduce any undead into dust with a snap of fingers as he could. For a moment, all of them were rooted to the spot, staring at the approaching heavily armoured figure of the Lich King himself.
„SILENCE PALADIN!" Arthas' hoarse voice came out from within the ornated helmet, the hatred he felt towards the man he had once called a friend, returning with renewed strength as hand stretched out, banishing Uther's spirit back into the runeblade and the sound echoed through the Halls of Reflection like the voice of death itself. He did not look directly at Jaina or any of the intruders. He felt like he would loose his mind if he did. Become unable to do what needed to be done. Instead he chose to look up.
„So, you wish to commune with the dead?" narrowed, bright blue eyes found Frostmourne, revolving peacefully above them. „You shall have your wish." Arthas raised his hand again and the sword obeyed it's master's command. Gloved fingers wrapped around the handle. If they can not defeat two of his most loyal lieutenats, there was no point in letting them live, he knew that. He had no use for weaklings and even though Jaina was here... „Falric. Marwyn. Bring their corpses to my chamber when you are through." and he turned his back on all of them, retracing his steps back to the Shadow Throne.
However, it would not be Jaina Proudmore, had she let him ignore her like that. Swift clapping of slippers made her intentions clear as she ran after him. And she was not alone.
„You will not deny me this, Arthas! I must know... I must find out..." and to Arthas' delight and horror, she and her pet of an archmage managed to slip through the gate before it had closed, leaving the Champions of Azeroth in the enlightening company of Falric and Marwyn.
Arthas, however, did not stop. His limbs kept moving almost on their own accord as he walked quickly across the Shadow Throne chamber, thoughts now rushing through his mind. Should he grant her her wish? He knew very well that to reveal himself as the one in control of the Lich King would only make things worse. Right now Jaina did not know how much of the man she had once loved remained and still she kept clinging onto the sigle thought -more of a wish than actual fact- that he could be saved. Who is he to confirm her believes just to crush them only a second later? For he was no longer able to become the man she remembered. He could not bare to become him again.
Leading a fierce battel with himself, the Lich King made a last long step through an archway into the heart of Icecrown Citadel and a force -strong enough to send any other flying- pushed him back where Jaina and the archmage stood, frowning, prepared for battle they were determined to enter if necessary.
Arthas maintained balance, but only barely. He should have predicted it. A slight headache made him close his eyes for a moment as he tried hard to think about what to say now, that their confrontation could no longer be avoided. He turned to face Jaina's fiercely glittering eyes. He remembered the look for he had seen it many times during those very few days they were allowed to spend together. Days that seemed almost a lifetime ago.
„I want to know the truth, Arthas!" demanded the mage, knuckles turning white as she clutched her staff, ready to defend herself and her companion should there be any need. „I am not leaving untill..." and suddenly she fell silent, blue eyes widened as she recognized this place. Much darked and colder, however the resemblance seemed too obvious to be a coincidence.
Awestruck, quickening breaths coming out of her lips in white puffs, blood freezing in her veins Jaina looked around. A stone, beautifuly carved throne behind the Lich King's back, dark blue curtains falling down from the upper balconies once reserved for members of the Landsmeet and ambassadors and underneath her feet...
Jaina made a few steps back, examining closely the flagstone. No, the longer she kept staring at it, the more pronounced differences there were. The capital L for Lordaeron missing, instead the carving beared a resemblance to some kind of magical diagram not unlike those used by the demons of the Burning Legion. A small circle of differently colored stone inside a triangle within another two circles, fitting perfectly together to form a kind of mosaic . The outer rim embossed with encircled runes and skulls, all pointing north, towards the great throne. In that moment Jaina felt sure as she had not done in years that Arthas Menthil has to be much more than a mere presence within the Lich King. This place was a proof of that theory. Yet it seemed more like mocking viloation of the original throne room in Lordaeron's palace and suddenly, her faith wavered and she could no longer tell if this was not only some kind of a sick joke.
„I have been willing to give you the chance to do so. You, however forfeited it foolishly." the Lich King's low growl brought Jaina back from her reverie. She started, forgetting for a few second where she was and whom she was facing. „Now pay the price!"
Had she had enough time, she would have cursed herself for her own stupidity, however Arthas made a decision before Jaina could do as much as look up at him. She glimpsed a flash of metal and Blinked out of harm's way just in time. Archmage Koreln, however, had not been so lucky. Frostmourne's blade flew right through the very spot Jaina occupied just a second before. A clang of metal, a sound of something breaking and a cry of pain, forcibly silenced in the middle.
Shocked, breath stuck in her painfully clenched throat, tears prickling in her eyes, Jaina watched Koreln's lifeless body fall to the ground in a rain of blood, clearly severed in half. And after what felt like hours, her gaze rose up to Arthas' armoured face in bewilderment. She could not possibly see anything besides the two sapphires of brightly glowing eyes, however Arthas still had an unsettling feeling of being x-rayed. A feeling he remembered very vividly and one he did not like at all.
Salty drops began pouring uncontrollably from the sky-blue eyes down the mage's pink cheeks. Her face suddenly contorting with pain and anger. With a last fleeting look at the Archmage's body and furrow of her graceful, fair brows, she spat disgustedly: „I will not let you get away with this, butcher!"
And though her rage and sorrow were great and her magical powers more than formidable, Arthas was prepared. When Jaina vanished from perception, he closed his eyes and reached to her with his mind, re-directing the spell so that she appeared with a pop right infront of him, her back turned and she could only gasp in surprise.
„You should have listened to your dear Uther, Jaina." whispered Arthas into her ear, his arms wrapped around her like a set of chains. „Your beloved prince is nothing but an insect, buzzing about day and night. Quite vexing insenct, sometimes, but an insect nontheless." his voice was cold, steady and somehow distorted, though he became suddenly very much aware of the heat of her body creeping under his saronite armor.
„Yes, I should have." Jaina turned her head as far as it would go, staring fearlessly into the cold, brightly glowing eyes. „I know now, you are a monster, Lich King. Nothing more!"
Arthas' grip loosened as the finality of her statement torn something out of the very core of his being. Jaina took the oportunity, slipped her hand into her robes and her fingers closed around a small leather pouch. She took it out and turned it upside down. It's contents swirled around her ankles and covered the Lich King from head to foot in crimson choking ashes. As soon as he let her go, she Blinked away, watching him coughing and spitting before the cloud ignited and burned itself out.
„I underestimated you, it seems." Arthas laughed derisively, lowering his hand, still burning with bright blue flames. „It will not be so easy next time, I asure you."
„I would be dissapointed otherwise." Jaina responded, her staff firmly in her hands, eyes narrowed with determination, though still a little puffed and red.
The two of them began circling each other. Smirk formed on the Lich King's lips. He could not help but admire Jaina, for she had always had great potential. Antonidas himself had said so many times. And her powers developed far beyond what Arthas had hoped since the last they met. It pleased him greatly. This could indeed turn up to be a very intersting duel, he thought to himself as his feet shifted, gloved hands grasped Frostmourne's handle and he lunged forward. The runeblade clashed with a magical barrier she erected around her, its runes glowing bright blue. Jaina raised her staff and each time it hit the ground, a cone of cold hit her oponent with enough power to freeze him to the bone. The Lich King, however, was an entity born of ice, trapped within a piece of Twisting Nether for more than five years and now he called this frozen wasteland his home.
„You should know better than to battle me with ice!" he growled, lifting Frostmourne so that it's tip pointed at Jaina's heart.
With the speed of a stag the Lich King charged, but Jaina was no longer there. Another Blink and she appeared on a balcony high above him. Arthas sensed her and turned around, but she only vanished again. Learning from her mistake, she managed to block his attempts to turn her spell against her. Now she was behind him and Arthas moved just in time before a fireball rushed past him, missing by an inch. His eyes followed in as it hit a stone pillar and dissipated. A mistake he realized only a moments later, when his eyes returned to the mage just to see four of them surrounding him. All covered in glowing aura of arcane energy. Magic missiles shot out of their hands and Lich King set Frostmourne horizontally in front of his chest, confident the sword can shield him against the attack. It certainly could, if it was not for Jaina's quick reaction.
Too late Arthas understood the real mage was never among the four decoys. She managed to hide her presence from him and he had only a fraction of a second to whirl about as a giant bolt of fire sped towards him from one of the upper balconies. He raised Frostmourne yet again and the incoming missile clashed with the glowing runeblade. Arthas felt his feet slipping under the pressure of Jaina's spell, pushing him further and further back. Pitch-black aura eminated from the sword in his hands, devouring the burning flames. It spread to the whole of the Lich King's body. His arms trembled under the strain.
And then an explosion shook the whole chamber, obliterating all in its way. It swept Arthas off his feet completely and flung him against a solid wall as easily as one would toss a rag doll. It crumbled and Arthas fell hard to the ground on a pile of rubble. A gaping hole left where his armoured body smashed through the stone, revealing a hidden passage. A gust of fresh air made courtains rustle. He coughed. Dust filling his lungs, threatening to suffocate him. Every single bone in his body ached, a sensation he thought he would never feel again.
Frostmourne sank deep into the ground as the Lich King leaned onto it for support. Shallow, rapid breathing reached his ears. Jaina must have used much of her energy to muster such an attact. Yet, despite his every muscle protesting against any kind of movement, he had not been seriously wounded.
Ignoring most of the pain, the Lich King stood up. „Much better." he purred softly. „But still not enough." a rope of dark-violet energy erupted from his outstretched palm and Jaina was hoisted up and pulled towards him. She gasped in surprise and quickly murmured an incantation so that Frostmourne clashed with brightly glowing magical sphere around her.
The force of the impact had thrown her off balace and she stumbled backwards . That fraction of a second was enough for Arthas to grip his sword more firmly and charge again. Without any hope of deflecting the attack, Jaina held her staff in front of her and prepared for the worst.
And it was probably only that, that had saved her life as Frostmourne penetrated the shield she had conjured, shattering it and hit the staff. It snapped in two, but the resistance threw Arthas' aim off enough for his blade to slid sideways, tearing Jaina's robes. Frostmourne scratched her hip, sinking a few inches into the flesh. Hot, crimson blood splashed the glowing runes and the mage grunted and fell to her knees, clutching the bleeding wound. The two pieces of her staff rolled over the floor, halting at Arthas' feet. His eyes followed the now useles pieces of wood before returning to Jaina. With mixed feelings, aware that he had let himself be consumed by the Lich King within him even if it was for only a short time, he watched the dark, crimson flow of life slipping through her figers, firmly pressed against her hip and dripping onto the cold flagstone.
Jaina bit her lip to supress a cry of pain, she will not grant him the satisfaction of seing her defeated. Sky-blue eyes found two sapphires, shining from beneath the Lich King's ornated crown. „Finish it!" she dared him, something in that fierce look called to him almost irresistibly. „You know, you can not... stop us all. The others will survive... and complete their task."
Without an answer, fighting with all his might to return to his own senses, Arthas slowly pressed Frostmourne's tip to the soft, pale skin of her neck. Unnatural cold emiting from it threatened to freeze her throat even before it could be slit. Jaina closed her eyes, head held high. Never before had she felt so frightened, however she did not intend to give him the pleasure of hearing her beg for her life. If she was to die here, she will die with dignity.
As if in slow motion, Frosmourne finally swished through the air and Jaina opened her eyes with a start as it sank deep into the ground only an inch from her left arm. Her eyes quickly searched for the Lich King's, question burning on her tongue. Why?
Arthas, however, neither looked at her, nor said a word. Slowly, he bent over and picked up the two pieces of her staff, holding it before his eyes, one in each hand as if it was something he found highly amusing. Dazzling white aura enveloped him, reaching for the weapon and it slowly mended. Then he tossed it back at Jaina's kneeling figure, ignoring the utterly confused look on her bloodless face and pulled his own sword out.
„You speak the truth." he said in a low voice, raising his gaze somewhere beyond the ceiling. He could feel it - the sudden silence and emptiness. „Falric and Marwyn have been defeated."
And in that moment, door to the Halls of Reflection slammed open and five figures emerged, panting, evidently exhausted from the fight with Arthas' lieutenants, but still alive and more or less unharmed. They sped towards Jaina, helping her on her feet.
Finding it easier than he had expected, Arthas distanced himself from the feelings Jaina managed to evoke in him, allowing the Lich King to surface once more, though this time leashing him tightly not to lose control. „Your allies have arrived, Jaina. Just as you promised." his voice chilled to the bone. He regarded them all with mild curiosity. Maybe they could play a little before he allows them to leave with what they had discovered here. „You will become powerful agents of the Scourge." and he took an offensive posture.
Jaina shoved off the hands supporting her and stood infront of her Champions, eyes narrowed again, lips sealed tightly. She pushed aside the thoughts of what had happened only seconds before as she and the Lich King measured each other. Pain flickered through her side and she winced.
The Lich King's cloak whirled around his ankles as he advanced on the wounded mage, not with the intention of finishing her off rather than just pushing her aside and have a go at the famous Champions of the Argent Tournament, who had managed to kill the two of his servants he believed the most skilled. He wanted to test their skill for himself. Frostmourne's tip scratched the flagstone in his wake. Jaina's loss of blood, however, was not great enough to slow down her reflexes. Staff raised above her head she closed her eyes and focused most of her remaining energy into a single strike. And with a surpise that had almost thrown her out of focus, she realized other presence, giving her the so much needed energy to cast. A presence residing within the weapon in her hands.
Without any incantation, before the Lich King could do a single thing, the staff hit the ground with a clung and a block of ice formed around him, imprisoning him.
„He is too powerful. We must leave this place at once." Jaina's voice trembled with exhaustion and a little bit of astonishment, though she snapped out of it quickly. Now was not the time to ponder over things. „My magic can hold him in place for only a short time. Come quickly, heroes!"
They ran to a passage made by Arthas' earlier collision with a wall. As she waited for them to step through, something made her look back at the Lich King, encased within a block of ice and her fingers wrapped around her staff, mind unwillingly slipping into the realm of thoughts as she did so. He repaired it and gave it back to her. Why? Why did he stay his blade when killing her would be as easy as snapping his fingers? Could it truly be Arthas who had saved her life? She would like to believe it... Jaina pressed the staff to her chest like the most precious of gifts. The presence within it grew slightly weaker.
„Go!" whispered a soft voice in her mind -voice, she had not heard in years- and the ice, holding the Lich King shattered.
A strong hand grabbed Jaina's shoulder and she was being pulled back, away from Arthas, now persuing her and her companions as they made their way out of the Citadel –or so they hoped. The Lich King's slow, lazy stride, however did not boost their confidence. Nor did the wall of ice, blocking their way.
„There is no escape." his booming voice tingled with amusement. „Death's cold embrace awaits."
The Champions turned abruptly to face the Lich King, weapons at the ready as Jaina herself regarded the obstacle in an attempt to find a weak spot. Brows knitted together, she touched the ice, caressed it with her palm, thinking hard. He could have easily overpower them, had he wanted to, she was sure of it. Why did he hesitate? To play with them like a cat with it's food before eating it?
„I will destroy the barrier." she said in a voice as confident as she could muster, ignoring the growing uneasiness in the pit of her stomach, that had nothing to do with her wound now mended a little with the priest's remaining healing magic so that she could go on for a while longer. „You must hold the undead back!" and - murmuring an incantation- she closed her eyes, chanelling her spell through the presence within her staff, using herself as an amplifier. Green lightning shot from the tips of her fingers, forhead glistening with sweat. The still much painful wound drained her remaining strength at an alarming rate, however Jaina knew she had to endure. Their survival depended on it.
The barrier shattered at the precise moment the last of the Scourge fell. Arthas smiled to himself and followed, still quite calmly the retreating intruders . Would it be too easy to just let them go? He pondered the idea for a moment, then raised Frostmourne and yet another barrier erected between his prey and their freedom. ‚You are clever, Jaina. I have already put everything at risk back in the Shadow Throne. I cannot afford to do it again.'
„Another ice wall." Jaina sighed, her hands began to tremble as she repeated the procedure, finally finding a weakness, though it seemed much easier that she would have anticipated, given the full extent of the Lich King's powers. She could not help to find it all odd, somehow. Almost as if... „Keep the undead from interrupting my incantations, that I may bring this wall down!" she ordered her companions curtly, the ice cracking under the shear force of her spell.
Another group of the Lich King's minions have been sent to oblivion. Now, they could all feel the chilly breeze on their skin. The exit was close. The Lich King, however, did not seem to be quite done having fun yet.
„Another dead end." his voice reverberated through the passageway. He strode still more and more slowly towards them, conjuring yet another wall of ice. ‚You are almost at your limit, Jaina.'
She knew very well she was reaching her limit and it made her resolve strenghten even more and her despair and fury burst out as she growled: „He is toying with us!" and ran her palms along the cold surface of the ice before stepping back a little. „I will show him what happens to ice when it meets fire!"
A burst of golden flames erupted from her outstretched hands and Arthas remembered Jaina's beginnings with fire magic -her least favourite of the magical arts. She had told him once that the first time she tried to use it a book caught on fire. A book held –at that moment- by none other than prince Kael'thas Sunstrider. Since that moment, Jaina always made sure to practice near one of the founains at Dalaran's courtyard, just in case.
Slowly, the ice melted. A hole formed where her flames were strongest and it grew bigger the longer she focused on it. Jaina's whole body was now shaking with effort and when she staggered, about to pass out from exhaustion, the ice strenghtened again, if only a little bit.
„Your barriers cannot hold us back much longer, monster! I will shatter them all!" the mage's voice trembled, breathing shallow and quick. Arthas admired her willpower. Reaching the very bottom of her abilities, Jaina still managed to hold on. He would not expect anything less from the woman he had known since childhood. Woman he had fallen in love with so long ago.
Hands clenched, he closed his eyes for a moment and the last obstacle gave in to the force of the bursting flames. Arthas smiled. She would not notice this small interference. After all, he knew his own palace much better than they did.
Encouraged by her apparent success, although still on the verge of collapse, Jaina leaned on her staff, right arm around the neck of a human paladin beside her. „There is an opening up ahead! Go, now!" and they ran for their lives, the Lich King at their heels and finally a cold gust of wind welcomed them as they jumped out to the ever-lasting chill of the frozen wasteland of Icecrown.
Only the paladin's strong arms prevented Jaina from falling to her knees, however, as they rushed out only to find themselves jumping from a frying pan into the fire.
„It... It is a dead end." the mage whispered in shock. They were standing on a rampart, high above the Court of Bones, long way down before them, Lich King closing in from behind. There was no way they would be that unlucky!
Jaina sighed, fighting back tears of pain and dissapointment. They were so close... „We have no choice but to fight." and she shoved her hand inside her robes and took out what looked like a Dalaran sharp, immediately stuffing the piece of food whole in her mouth, she swallowed with great effort. Some of her strength returned, though it was not much. Especially given what they were about to face. „Steel yourselves, heroes, for this is our final stand." the mage used her staff to stand on her own, skimming through incantations in her tired mind, hoping against hope there are still miracles in Azeroth. For nothing less could save them now.
Arthas stopped at the end of the passage, not coming any closer, for at that moment a premonition washed over his mind and suddenly he knew precisely what was about to happen and what he needed to do. Silently, he thanked Nerz'hul for granting him at least a little bit of his shamanistic powers as Arthas devoured the orc in order to take control over the Lich King before raising Frostmourne almost lazily, not quite ready yet to give up the fun, though time was running short. And even though Arthas would never admit it out loud, it those moments, he could not tell whether it was him or the remntants of the original Lich King that made him so eager to fight. He might have been loosing his mind for all he knew, because he had heard himself talking, but was not aware of such words forming in his mind.
„Nowhere to run. You are mine now." The Lich King's delighted laughter made Jaina and her companions shiver. His presence fell upon them like a heavy blanked, soaked with icy water and they prepared themselves -weapons at the ready- for what they feared will be their very last battle.
„FIRE! Fire!" a deafening shout made them all jump with a start and whirl around in a swish of cloaks.
A huge and magnificent, heavily armed and armored ship rose above the rampart, hovering in midair supported by a pair of large turbines, skilfully built into both sides of it's hull directly below a set of guns. Four smaller turbines –unmistakably of gnomish making as well- helped it move back and forth with every slight change of the wind.
Without thinking about what the hell was that thing doing up here right when they needed it the most, Jaina and the others quickly covered their ears and ducked as the Skybreaker's cannons roared and sent four firey missiles swishing over their heads.
Broad grin forming on his lips, Arthas watched the passage around him collapsing. His booted feet shifted –as always prior to performing his favourite feat- and he dissapeared right before a set of massive chunks of rock and ice could squash him into a fine paste, reappearing a few meters furter inside the passage. It's exist and everything beyond now completely blocked up.
And slowly, Arthas took off the Lich King's helmet, heaving a heavy sigh of relief and perhaps dissapointment too. The part of him that was the Lich King raged within, though he remained blissfully oblivious to it's tantrums.
„Now that this has been taken care of..." and he turned around and walked calmly back the way he came, long silvery-white mane and torn, black, heavy cloak bellowing behind him.
Jeez... I'm quite proud of this piece. Couldn't tell where the lore ends and my fantasy begins... lol... :) Yes, I'm a terrible person for praising myself like this...
Anyway, after the passage is blocked, you stay with Jaina, listening as she keeps whining about her beloved Arthie before you get the chest with loot and stuff and I find it rather boring, since I dislike Jaina very much, so instead I took it from Arthas' point of view... :) Just so you know.