Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Andnowitwasthere,lockedinsidetheglowingweapon,soclosetoArthasthattheprince—theking—couldalmost,butnotquite,touchit.AndhadArthasevengottenwhathehadsetouttoget?Hadhispeoplebeensaved?

           Diditmatter?

           Tichondriuswatchedhimclosely."ThenI’llmakedowithoutone,"Arthassaidlightly."WhatistheLichKing’swill?"

           Ithadbeen,itturnedout,torallywhatwasleftoftheCultoftheDamnedinordertohaveaidforagreaterundertaking—therecoveryofKel’Thuzad’sremains.

           Theylay,hehadbeentold,inAndorhal,whereArthashimselfhadleftthem,apuddleofreeking,decayingflesh.Andorhal,wheretheshipmentsofplaguedgrainhadcomefrom.Herecalledhisfuryashehadattackedthenecromancer,butfeltitnolonger.Asmilecurvedhispalelips.Irony.

           Thebuildingsthathadoncebeenaconflagrationwerenowcharredtimbers.Noonesavetheundeadshouldbeherenow...andyet...Arthasfrowned,drawingrein.Invinciblehalted,asobedientindeathashehadbeeninlife.Arthascouldglimpsefiguresmovingabout.Whatlittlelighttherewasonthisdimdayglintedoff—

           "Armor,"hesaid.Therewerearmoredmenstationedabouttheperimeterofthecemeteryandonenearasmalltomb.Hesquinted,andthenhiseyeswidened.Notjustlivingbeings,notjustwarriors,butpaladins.Andheknewwhytheywerehere.Kel’Thuzad,itseemed,drewtheinterestofmany.