Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Theprincewaslookingstraightather,grinningthatdamnablegrin.Onepowerful,gauntletedhandgraspedtheruneblade.Theotherwasliftedinabeckoninggesture,andasshewatched,yetanotherslainhumanstirredandshambledtoitsfeet,pullingoutthearrowfromitseyeasifitwerepluckingaburrfromitsclothing.HerattackhadcostArthasnothing.Anywhofellwouldberaisedbyhisdarkmagic.Hesawtherealizationandtheangerinhereyes,andthegrinturnedintoalaugh.

           "Ididtrytotellyou,"hecried,hisvoicerisingabovethedinofbattle."Andstillyouprovidemewithnewrecruits...."

           Hegesturedagain,andanotherbodytwitchedasitwashauledupwardandforcedtostandonitsfeet.Abodythathadbeenslenderbutmuscular,withlongblackhairsweptbackinaponytail,withtannedskinandpointedears.Bloodstillraninredrivuletsfromthefourscoresinitsthroat,andtheheadbobbederratically,asiftheneckhadbeentoobadlydamagedtosupportitmuchlonger.DeadeyesthathadoncebeenblueassummerskiessoughtoutSylvanas.Andthen,slowlyatfirst,itbegantomovetowardher.

           Vor’athil.

           Atthatmomentshefeltthegatebeneathhershudder,eversoslightly.Sodistractedhadshebeenbytheslaughterandreanimationofthingsthatoughttostaydeadthatshehadnotnoticedhissiegeenginesmaneuveringintoposition.