Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           HowdarethisthingstandbetweenhimandFrostmourne?Howdareit—

           Withafinalagonizedsound,likethatoftherattlecomingfromadyingman’sthroat,thespiritflungupwhatpassedforhandsanddisappeared.

           Arthasstoodstaring,panting,thebreathcomingfromhischilledlipsinwhitepuffs.Thenheturnedtothehard-wonprize.Allmisgivingsdisappearedasheagainlaideyesonthesword.

           "Behold,Muradin,"hebreathed,awarethathisvoicewasshaking,"oursalvation,Frostmourne."

           "Hold,lad."Muradin’sbluntwords,almostanorder,werelikecoldwaterdousedonArthas.Heblinked,startledoutofhistrancelikerapture,andturnedtolookatthedwarf.

           "What?Why?"hedemanded.

           Muradinwasstaring,eyesnarrowed,atthehoveringswordandthedaisbelowit."Something’snotrighthere."Hepointedastubbyfingerattheruneblade."Thishasbeentooeasy.Andlookatit,sittingherewi’lightcomingfromwhoknowswhere,likeaflowerwaitingtaebeplucked."

           "Tooeasy?"Arthasshothimadisbelievingglance."It’stakenyoulongenoughtofindit.Andwehadtofightthesethingstogettoit."

           "Bah,"snortedMuradin."EverythingIkenaboutartifactsistellingmethatthere’ssomethingasfishyhereastheBootyBaydocks."Hesighed,hisbrowstillfurrowed."Wait...there’saninscriptiononthedais.LetmeseeifIcanreadthis.Itmighttellussomething.