Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Hewasdreaming;hehadbeendreamingforalong,longtime.Thehall,theshoveltusktrophies,thefire,thetable—theorcandtheboy—allweresimplyapartofhisdreaming.

           Theorc,onhisleft,waselderly,butstillpowerful.Theorangefire-andtorchlightflickeredofftheghastlyimageheboreonhisheavy-jawedface—thatofaskull,paintedon.Hehadbeenashaman,abletodirectandwieldvastpowers,andevennow,evenjustasafigmentoftheman’simagination,hewasintimidating.

           Theboywasnot.Once,hemighthavebeenahandsomechild,withwidesea-greeneyes,fairfeatures,andgoldenhair.Butoncewasnotnow.

           Theboywassick.

           Hewasthin,soemaciatedthathisbonesseemedtothreatentoslicethroughtheskin.Theonce-brighteyesweredimmedandsunken,athinfilmcoveringthem.Pustulesmarkedhisskin,burstingandoozingforthagreenfluid.Breathingseemeddifficultandthechild’schesthitchedinlittlepantinggasps.Themanthoughthecouldalmostseethelaboredthumpingofaheartthatshouldhavefalteredlongago,butpersistedincontinuingtobeat.

           "Heisstillhere,"theorcsaid,stabbingafingerintheboy’sdirection.

           "Hewillnotlast,"themansaid.

           Asiftoconfirmthewords,theboybegantocough.Bloodandmucusspatteredthetableinfrontofhim,andhewipedathinarmcladinrottingfineryacrosshispalemouth.