Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Theilluminationhehadglimpsedfromoutsideprovedtobecomingfromsoftlyglowingturquoisecrystalsandveinsofore,embeddedintherockwalls,floors,andceilingsthemselves.Hehadheardofsuchluminescentcrystalsandwasnowgratefulforthelighttheyprovided.Hismenwouldbeabletoconcentrateonholdingtheirweapons,nottorches.Once,hishammerwouldhaveglowedwithenoughradiancetoguidethem.Hefrownedatthethought,thenpusheditdown.Itdidnotmatterwherelighttoseebycamefrom,onlythatitwaspresent.

           Itwasthenthattheyheardthevoices.Muradinhadbeenright—theywereexpected.

           Thevoicesweredeep,hollow,andcold-sounding,andtheirwordsweredireastheyfloatedtoArthas’sears."Turnback,mortals.Deathanddarknessareallthatawaityouinthisforsakenvault.Youshallnotpass."

           Muradinhalted."Lad,"hesaid,hisvoicesoft,thoughinthisplaceitseemedtoechoendlessly,"perhapsweshouldlisten."

           "Listentowhat?"Arthascried."Apatheticlastefforttoturnmefrommypathtosavemypeople?It’sgoingtotakemorethanominouswordstodothat."

           Grippinghishammerhehastenedforward,roundedacorner—andstoppedinhistracks,tryingtotakeineverythingatonce.

           Theyhadfoundtheownersoftheicyvoices.