Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Thetideoftheundeadwasunstoppableandimplacable.Thesnowaroundthebaseofthespirewaschurnedupanddrenchedwithblood.Arthaslookedabouthim,atthelastfewknotsoffightinggoingon.Bloodelves—butnosignoftheirmaster.

           WherewasIllidan?

           Aflurryofquickmotioncaughthiseyeandheturned.Hegrowledbeneathhisbreath.Anotherdreadlord.Thisone’sbackwastowardhim,blackwingsoutstretched,clovenhoovesmeltingintothesnow.

           ArthasliftedFrostmourne."I’vedefeatedyourkindbefore,dreadlord,"hesnarled."Turnandfaceme,ifyoudare,orfleeintotheNetherlikethecowardyoudemonsare."

           Thefigureturned,slowly.Massivehornscrowneditshead.Itslipscurvedbackinasmile.Andoveritseyeswasaraggedblackblindfold.Twogreen,glowingspotsappearedwhereeyesshouldhavebeen.

           "Hello,Arthas."

           Deepandsinister,thevoicehadchanged,butnotasmuchasthekaldorei’sbody.Itwasstillthesamepalelavenderhue,etchedwiththesametattoosandscarifications.Butthelegs,thewings,thehorns...Arthasimmediatelyunderstoodwhatmusthavehappened.SothatwaswhyIllidanhadbecomesopowerful.

           "Youlookdifferent,Illidan.IguesstheSkullofGul’dandidn’tagreewithyou."

           Illidanthrewbackhishornedhead.Dark,richlaughterrumbledfromhim."Onthecontrary,Ihaveneverfeltbetter.