I did not write this. It was not written by me. I only found it.
By: Tygon of Aerie Peak
"Lord Arthas," Kel'thuzad shrilled on his way to the peak of the Frozen Throne. "Naxxramas has fallen! So, too, the bowels of Ulduar!"
The Lich King's mind stirred, but his body did not. He was situated on a slab of ice, clutched tightly by a series of jagged, icy spikes. "Bowels?" asked the Lich King, whose booming telepathic voice could only be heard by his servants.
Kel'thuzad stopped and floated in front of the Lich King. "There must have been thousands of them--" Kel'thuzad's chilly wheeze, visible in these temperatures, got swept away by the Frozen Throne's furious winds. "Alliance and Horde alike--all of them, working together!"
A vile mist of frost emerged from the holes in the Lich King's helmet.
The chains holding Kel'thuzad's robes together rattled nervously. "They stormed in without warning, My Lord--"
The Lich King rose. Pillars of ice shattered around him in his wake.
Kel'thuzad cowered and shielded his head with his skeletal hands. "An army of gryphons, bats, and drakes the color of blood!!"
"ALEXSTRASZA?!" the Lich King roared. The Frozen Throne shuddered.
"There is no question, My Lord! She aided them in conquering Malygos, and defeating Sartharion in the Obsidian Sanctum! --Even the God of Death, Yogg-Saron, was vanquished by their efforts!"
The Lich King raised his hand in anger at Kel'thuzad. "Kel'thuzad, you allow but insects to invade your necropolis? To befriend the Aspects, to conquer my Lieuten--" The Lich King blinked, suddenly grabbed his own chin, and looked down. "Wait, did you say 'God of Death'"?
Kel'thuzad peeked through his finger bones. "Yes, My Lord. Yogg-Saron, the God of Death."
"How, exactly, do you go about killing a God of Death?" the Lich King asked. He turned around, looked up at the blizzard in the sky, and wondered.
".. well, uh, I assume you.. kill it, My Lord. With fire. Or a large sword."
"--And, on that note, how exactly are you still alive, Kel'thuzad?" The Lich King looked over his dented, frostbitten spaulders at Kel'thuzad.
"Well, I'm not, My Lord. I'm dead. I'm a lich."
"Then how is Naxxramas fallen? Why didn't you fight the Alliance and Horde?"
"I did. They killed me."
The Lich King glared at Kel'thuzad.
"I mean, I try to defend the necropolis every week, but they just keep coming back," Kel'thuzad defended.
"So let me get this straight." The Lich King brushed a human tooth off of his ice slab. "You, who are dead, are killed every week."
"By the undead," Kel'thuzad injected.
"Well, you see, they have Death Knights now. --And sometimes a few Forsaken show up."
"So the undead kill you every week, who is dead, so that you die, and then you.. come back to life every week so that they--"
"I come back to death every week."
"Right. You come back to death every week so that the undead can kill you again. And then they go ahead and--why not?--kill the God of Death."
"That's about the gist of it, My Lord."
"Kel," the Lich King said in a softer voice. He appeared to be admiring a snowflake that had gotten impaled on a nearby ice spike.
Kel'thuzad looked left, and then he looked right. He cleared his throat, but his lich voice remained as raspy as ever. "Yes, My Lord?"
"Do you ever wonder if we're actually just data in a computer? --Hell, we could all be characters in someone's MMORPG!"
"You mean like The Matrix, My Lord?"
"I highly doubt we're characters in an MMORPG, My Lord."
The Lich King dragged his gloved fingers across the side of his helmet. "I mean--sometimes it just feels like I'm ineffective, you know? I set up a necropolis in the sky. Suddenly everyone has a flying mount. I show up in that super hard quest in Borean Tundra--you know, the one with--"
"Yeah, I know the one," Kel'thuzad replied with a quick nod. "The one where the damage gets reflected back at you. Very original."
"Epic, too. Did you hear my voice acting?"
"Completely on par."
"Yeah." The Lich King touched the snowflake with his fingertip. The snowflake shivered and fell apart. "Yogg-Saron and I--we set up that fool-proof hole in Ulduar. How were we supposed to know that Kologarn is the only enemy in the game that doesn't despawn?!"
"And I was talking to Anub'arak the other day. He had this great idea; we could kill those pesky mages that are holding up Dalaran. Can you imagine? During peak times?!" The Lich King cackled and turned around. His grin was hardly visible beneath his helmet. "The whole place would come crashing down! Do you have any idea how much DEATH and DESTRU--"
Kologarn is the only enemy
enemy in the game
game that doesn't
The Lich King gasped.
Kel'thuzad strafed to the side.
"You--" The Lich King lost his breath. The water in his eyes caused the ice on his eyelashes to sizzle.
That's a terrible idea, Lich King. It would never work.
Crash Dalaran? What good would that do? Let's terrorize the Argent Tournament instead!
Hey, Lich King! Let's go gargoyle tipping! Hahaha!
The Lich King's voice deteriorated into a whisper. He stared at Kel'thuzad. "You knew. All along, you--"
"You were never supposed to know, Arthas," Kel'thuzad said. "But it's too late now." Kel'thuzad, who had been staring off into the distance, finally made eye contact with the Lich King. "You dug too deep." Kel'thuzad ripped the miter off of his head.
The Lich King's heart--which had suddenly returned--skipped a beat.
Kel'thuzad tossed his staff aside. It broke in two when it collided with the icy floor, and the gigantic jewel at its end shattered into a thousand brilliant pieces. Kel'thuzad peeled his mustache off, and then he peeled his body off, revealing--
The Lich King's eyes widened. "Z--!!"
Zarhym. Zarhym stood before the Lich King, in all of his floating skull glory. --And Zarhym cackled. He cackled long, and he cackled hard. The insane laughter literally tore the Lich King's helmet apart. Arthas, free from the helmet's grip, fell to the floor and screamed.
Kalgan emerged from the haze of ice behind Arthas. His eyes were dark, but his smirk was darker. "You did your best, Zarhym--" He looked over at Zarhym. "--but, as usual, your best wasn't good enough. Please return to your necropolis and try to actually accomplish something for once."
"Yes, My Lord!" Zarhym hissed. "My apologies, My Lord! I will inform the playerbase that we currently have a Paid Class Change feature in the works at once!" Zarhym floated away hastily.
"Yes, Arthas, you were a great villain," Kalgan continued as he stared down at the poor soul. "Perhaps too great. You--" Kalgan glared down at something that was sneaking around in the broken pieces of the Lich King's helmet. Was that-- Was that a crab?! "GHOSTCRAWLER?!"
"Err--" Ghostcrawler hesitated. He skittered around, grabbed a chunk of Lich King helmet, and put it over his crab head like a hat. Because it was a hat, technically. I mean, moments ago, it had been a helmet. But just imagine a crab wearing the entire Lich King helmet. I mean, come on. That would be ridiculous.
"Were you hiding in that Lich King helmet, Ghostcrawler?!" Kalgan asked--loudly.
"No, Sir! I was.. working on those Elemental Shaman changes, Sir! You know the ones!!"
Kalgan put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot.
"Yes, Sir! Applying those changes right now, Sir!" Ghostcrawler skittered away.
"Now, where was I?" Kalgan looked around, settled his eyes back on Arthas, and cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. --You were able to realize the truth, weren't you?! That you are nothing more than a character in a video game. What a pity." Kalgan walked around Arthas and chuckled.
"You--" Arthas tried to speak between his own retching and hacking. Black sludge--the will of the Lich King--was pouring out of his mouth. "You won't get away with this!! There's no way-- I'm Arthas Menethil! I am the Lich King! What will the fans say?! You can't replace me! I'm better than Sephiroth, for god's sakes!!"
"Oh, can't we now?" a familiar voice called out from beyond the haze.
A chill ran down Arthas' spine.
Chris Metzen stopped beside Kalgan.
"NO!" Arthas cried.
"One little retcon is all it would take," Chris said with a smile. "In fact, we've got one lined up already..."
Chris and Kalgan turned around to face something. Arthas struggled to roll himself onto his back, so that he could see what they were looking at. His blackened, frozen lips trembled. A shadow--a silhouette; a flare. Something with spikes. Something growing. Tears, hotter than Hell, finally gushed out of Arthas' eyes.
The silhouette flipped its hair.
"Magister's Terrace was merely a setback!"
No Flying in Warlords Entire
27 minutes ago