Arthas Menethil

Recent Posts

1. 

   Unsettling Signs

   May 22, 2018

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulThe undead just kept coming, swarming more and more as they neared where the helm should be. Arthas narrowed his eyes, drawing on the closest thing to the magic he'd known back home - water, more specifically frost and air, combined - and concentrated. Wind suddenly whipped around them, tugging at their clothing and armor, then increased until it was howling, flecks of snow swirling around them in a flurry. Then, just as suddenly as it had drawn around them, it surged forward, slamming into a good number of the undead and stunning them.Arthas didn't hesitate, charging forward and slicing through as many of them as he could with several well placed blows. He had sensed that his paladin companion was struggling, though he couldn't be sure if it was just from a lack of practice or something else. It hadn't seemed like much when he'd sensed it, but he didn't want her to overextend herself. And the same went for the mage and monk accompanying him. He could take far more blows than any of the others.
   \"It should be just ahead. Around the curve right there.\" His voice had taken on a more chilling quality, the dual tone much more noticeable due to the use of his magicks, but that couldn't be helped. He just hoped it didn't damage the trust he'd earned with his allies.
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2. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   February 14, 2018

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulWhy would you want to summon demons? Warlocks were notorious for it, of course, but to summon demons to fight for you was foolish at best, suicidal at worst. Hearing what had happened when the mages had tried to tamper with the portals earned a wince. Sounded like they had a hell of a thing to deal with. He didn't envy those who dealt with the portals and those pulled through at all. He suspected that many people pulled through were less than pleasant - and perhaps even dangerous - when they first arrived.He studied the yard and the hanger they approached, his curiosity evident. He stepped inside when she gestured for him to do so and surveyed the office, noting the gnome before he spotted them. Donnie was his name, if he'd picked up on Elzpeth's explanation correctly. \"It's a good way to make a living. Pity the tech's not what you're used to, but I have no doubt you'll get it there.\" Especially with a gnome on your team, he thought but did not say out loud.
   He blanched slightly though, when his mind caught up with the rest of her words and a name registered. Varian. Yet another confirmation that his old friend was here, and would probably hold a grudge against him. Not that he blamed the man. But he liked living, thank you very much.
   The old gnome had started talking pretty enthusiastically until his eyes had come to rest on Arthas. He glanced at Elzpeth, once again unsure of his welcome. As the gnome continued to speak and put everything away, he remained silent, deciding it was best to let his new friend take the lead here. Gnomes were small, but they were hardy individuals and not to be underestimated.
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3. 

   Unsettling Signs

   February 14, 2018

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulThe words from Khadgar, Lanbao, and Elzpeth reached him, pulling him out of the spiral he'd started going into. First Khadgar's hand on his shoulder grounded him, and then Elzpeth's presence, first gripping his armor, and then her hand wrapping around his soothed him. He looked down at her in shock though, at including him as a paladin. He wasn't, not really - not anymore. And yet, her words had an effect on him, and his expression changed to one of determination.He nodded. \"Thank you, all of you.\" He squeezed her hand in return, grateful for her friendship once again. it seemed she was never done surprising him with the depth of her forgiveness and kindness. They would not let this Lich King - if he was back, and Arthas was almost positive he was - destroy Chiselwall.
   \"We will do whatever it takes to stop him. We must, not only for our own sake, but for the many innocents who trust that we will not let harm come to them.\" It still hurt though, knowing that he'd brought this on. He grit his teeth and took a deep breath - not necessary for breathing since he didn't need to, but more to steady himself. The Blessing the dwarf paladin had cast was noticeable to him, and he was grateful for the backup.
   He didn't know what they'd find in the tunnels and down in the sewers, but they had to see. It was better to know and be able to prepare than to bury their heads in the sand like fools. After another moment he nodded and strode forward, his free hand reaching up to put his new helm on. Wouldn't do to go into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation without proper armor.
   The journey down didn't seem to take as long as it had the first time he'd come down into the sewers, but he thought that might be due to his state of mind more than anything. There weren't any undead at first, though he began to sense them before the others, and he paused. \"Up ahead. Be prepared.\" He drew his sword and took the lead again. He could take the hits, especially with Elzpeth having his back with her Light magick and blessings.
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4. 

   Unsettling Signs

   December 21, 2017

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulIt had been some time since he'd found himself in the realm. His first few days had been terrible, but then the unexpected had happened and someone from his own world, someone who had every right to refuse to help and even try to kill him, had extended her hand to help him. He even felt a fondness for the dwarf, a friendship - something he thought he'd never have again.Because of that, he'd worked hard at proving himself, showing that he was neither the foolish young prince from before his fall [he'd been a damn fool], nor the hated lich king who'd caused so much pain and death. The latter's actions - his actions, who was he kidding? - still haunted him every night. He'd not admitted it to anyone, not even his new friends, but he woke up from nightmares almost every night. He'd been silent though, mercifully, so no screaming to wake the others.
   When rumors of undead beings had started to reach his ears he'd been worried. The first he'd seen hadn't looked like anything from Azeroth, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He knew firsthand how easy it was to reanimate the dead, and to also make constructs. Just because they weren't quite the same as back home didn't mean they weren't scourge. He'd not told Elzpeth about the helm yet, though he was planning to on their way to check on the damnable thing.
   Nearing the warehouse, he slowed down then stopped suddenly, not even thinking about the others traveling with him and that they might actually run into him due to his sudden halt.
   Something was wrong. He couldn't feel the magickal barriers he'd set up, and as they were supposed to be apparent to the one who'd cast them? That meant bad things. Very, very bad things. He cursed himself for a fool, then slowly turned to look at the others who'd come with. His eyes were grave when he spoke.
   \"I fear we have a very, very large problem. You see, when I first arrived, the helm came with. I was not wearing it, and in fact I was completely separated from the spirit inside it, which is how I came to be myself again. But he was still very present, and as I felt any attempt to talk with Varian would end in my death, and I also felt it was my burden to hide away and ensure no one could reach, I hid it in a warehouse, behind some very powerful spells I had managed to acquire.\"
   He hesitated, expecting disappointment and anger from those with him. \"Only, those spells are not present now. I cannot sense them, and I should.\" His mouth twisted sourly. \"This means that those rumors we've heard of undead and the few we've seen that we though just stumbled through a portal? They're probably not random at all. If that helm is not in the tunnels where I hid it, we have a disaster in the making. And it's all my fault.\" The harshness of his voice, the amount of anger aimed inward was apparent.
   Arthas half expected to be struck, or abandoned by those friends he'd started to count on. He'd already had a lot of trouble with the death knight Malokash, who understandably held a great deal of ill will toward him, and several of the others from their world also refused to have anything to do with him, declaring that he was not changed, it was all a trick, and everyone would be sorry. He certainly was sorry, but not for that reason. He was sorry for not trusting anyone with the burden of the helm, because he feared he'd now damned them to a repeat of what happened back home.
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5. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   December 17, 2017

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulArthas was grateful when she fell into step next to him - it made things easier for him, and he could see her face and get a read on her emotions. He wasn't always great at registering things, but seeing someone as well as hearing their tone helped. Her comments about saronite hit home - he'd been unsettled by it ever since he'd regained himself but he'd not really been able to put a finger on it. Now he knew. Too long as a death knight, and then as the Lich King had made him overlook things the young prince, a paladin, would never have missed.He wondered if they could reforge it, get rid of the taint and eeriness it had. It wasn't the same as it had been back on Azeroth, so perhaps reworking it would rid it of that lingering aura. He picked up on the fact that her steps faltered slightly and her eyes misted over as they spoke of things and wondered what had happened to her. He hoped that he had not been the primary cause of her pain. The young prince would have felt some guilt, but would have insisted that burdens sometimes had to be taken. The death knight would have found it amusing, and the king? He would have taken great pleasure in the pain. He felt a lingering horror at the thing he had become as that thought hit him.
   Clearing his throat, which suddenly felt tight, he took a deep, steadying breath before speaking. \"I am sorry to hear that many of us have arrived in such a way. I had hoped that most had a more pleasant journey than I did.\" Arthas was curious about her own arrival, but thought that perhaps he should wait til they were at the shipyard, or perhaps later, once she was more comfortable with him. He kept stride with her easily, studying the streets around them with interest. He'd not paid a great deal of attention to anywhere beyond the spots he'd hidden things, and he was now regretting that.
   Part of him questioned his motives for hiding the helm and shattered sword away and not asking for help. The longer he had to think on it, the more he thought that it should be with someone who couldn't be tempted by it. And yet, a part of him feared that someone else might be tempted and take the helm for themselves - even someone as good as Varian, the guards who watched everyone, or the ECR group. Especially that last group - they were the ones who needed a great deal of power and ability to watch over the city, and he worried that one of them, if given knowledge of such terrible power as the helm, might make the same mistake he did.
   He couldn't risk it. Turning his full attention back to the dwarf woman, he spoke again. \"It is interesting that it heals only the wound - or wounds, as the case may be - that was the death blow. If the original ones stolen were for a fighting force, wouldn't it make more sense to have fully healed and whole soldiers?\" His brow furrowed somewhat. \"Though, I suppose that would depend on whether they had mages bright enough to do something of that sort.\" He tried to give an amused smile but felt he failed miserably at the attempted humor [and smile].
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6. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   December 8, 2017

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulArthas nodded to Captain Strongsteel himself, then turned his full attention to the dwarf woman who'd recognized him. That had been a painful blow she'd struck, and he was grateful she'd not had a proper weapon to strike him with. He moved somewhat gingerly as he tried to assess the damage. More than he'd be able to easily recover from in a day or two, it felt like. Not that he was surprised - the situation he'd been in before finding himself here had been bad, though he had to admit [to himself, if no one else] that he was relieved as to the outcome. The Lich King dead, and hopefully a more peaceful Azeroth for everyone else. So much suffering had been brought from his choices, and all because he'd wanted to save his people.
   Life had taught him much, and he was going to make use of this second chance, though the ghosts of his past weren't quite done haunting him yet. The guilt continued to tug at him, though he threw it off as best he could and focused on Elzpeth. Her mention of his armor earned a grimace in response. The expression was so out of place on the former Lich King's face that in any other situation it might have been comical. He spoke as he followed along behind her.
   \"You do have a point. I am wandering around in bulky armor, and even without the skulls peeking out from the cloak, I'm quite large.\" He frowned, but it didn't last as the woman's kindness eased his struggles somewhat. Her words earned a small, but quite genuine smile, which transformed his face into something far less harsh and worn than the battle scarred prince that followed her. \"Thank you. I want to get as far away from it for the time being as I can. It reminds me too much of-\" He cut the sentence short, and shook his head.
   When he continued, his voice was much softer, and there was a haunted tone to it. \"... of everything.\" His father, his mentor, his friends, and his people. And the countless others. The longer he had, the more he pieced together. He'd been a terror as a death knight and even moreso once he'd become the Lich King. \"I'm not sure how bad my injuries are, truth be told. Everything hurts like I had a horse stomp on my chest and elsewhere, and if my memory isn't playing tricks on me, I was defeated just before finding myself here.\"
   Couldn't hurt to let her know exactly when he was from, he thought.
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7. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   November 13, 2017

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulArthas was stunned when the dwarf woman - Elzpeth - suggested taking him back to patch him up and perhaps even find him work. It was a complete reversal of her earlier reaction, though he wasn't ungrateful - far from it! It might be just the stroke of luck he needed to get fully back on his feet. Eventually he thought he might like [and perhaps even need] to take up a position as a warrior of some sort, but for now any work that he could do would be welcome. Hard physical labor would also help him get out of his head and test his body, as he really had no clue as to how strong he was anymore. Everything was still a blur.Her earlier words and how she'd phrased things had him wincing. Less than pleasant was an understatement if his blurry memories could be trusted. Light help him, he'd done horrible things, tortured thousands, and killed more. It made the former paladin somewhat sick to think of it, and what little color he had soon deserted him, leaving him looking a little green.
   The banter between Elzpeth and this Captain was interesting - well, more just from the Captain's side so far, but he could tell it was all in good fun and suspected she'd either respond in kind or tease in her own way. He hoped that one day he might be accepted to the point he could be treated that way, and not feared instead.
   When he finally spoke, it was after the Captain had fallen silent, and his words were for both of them, addressing a bit of what both had touched on. \"Yes, unpleasant only brushes the surface of what happened, I fear.\" There was genuine guilt in his eyes, though it was hard to read in his odd voice.
   He glanced between them and gave a cautious smile. \"I would be grateful for the help.\" After a moment's hesitation he continued. \"Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Yes, my name is Arthas.\" A brow raised. \"Everyone here must have seen a great many strange and frightening things if I would not bother them too much.\"
   Arthas glanced to Elzpeth for confirmation that what Nicol had said was true, and let his gratitude show in the form of a small nod of the head and smile, though it was a reserved one. He was extremely unsettled by everything and he was still worried about the powerful items he'd just finished hiding away. Perhaps later, once he'd gotten a feel for Elzpeth, he could hint at things and see what she said? He was still reluctant to let others get involved, as it was his burden, but the longer he thought on it, the more he realized that keeping it entirely to himself might lead down another dark path, or damn someone else to a more horrible fate than that of his people back home.
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8. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   November 2, 2017

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulArthas hadn't had even a moment to prepare for the strike. He'd not been expecting it and though it was only a work hammer and the magic was rusty, it still hurt. Enough so that the air whuffed out of him as he stumbled back and slammed into a nearby building's wall. Had he been prepared for a strike it wouldn't have done more than make him step back a step or two from the pain. He winced as his already battered body - he seemed to have the majority of the non-fatal wounds from his defeat - protested and he took a closer look at the woman he'd approached. She was looking at him like she'd seen a ghost, and it was clear that she'd recognized him.
   He didn't know who she was, but clearly there were more than just the couple from his world. The man who approached was obviously part of the guard - even though it had been a long time since Arthas had been around typical cities and guards, that sort of thing was extremely easy to pick up on. He nodded to the man, his eyes shifting between the two in front of him, the blue glow in them duller than in the past, though still evident.
   Pulling down the hood - there wasn't much point to hiding now, was there? - he sighed and spoke again. \"I am fine. I fear I startled her when I spoke. If she's from my world, as I suspect, her reaction is understandable.\" Arthas had always been fairly well spoken when he wasn't letting his impatience or anger get in the way. Years of training will do that.
   Pushing off of the building he was still half leaning against, he steadied himself and then focused on the dwarf woman. \"I am Arthas Menethil. Though I suspect you've realized that, as you've not hit me again.\" He winced, brushing a hand across the armor where she'd struck him, then continued. \"It is only me. No Lich King. No curse. Just me.\"
   Though he wanted time to himself to really piece everything together, it seemed that he was not going to get that and he wasn't willing to let others see the amount of torment and confusion he felt at that point. His pride wouldn't allow it - some things never really change. Pride had always been a problem for him - it got him in trouble repeatedly. He knew it was a problem, and yet he let it get the better of him time and again. He hoped this wasn't one of those times.
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9. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   October 28, 2017

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   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulArthas hadn't been there long - a few days, perhaps a week at most. He'd been reeling since finding himself there. After so long as the Lich King, to be ripped apart and restored, at least partly, to the man he'd been before was overwhelming. He'd retreated, trying to piece together the memories he had of the last who knew how many years. He remembered picking up that damnable sword, but everything after that was a bit fuzzy.He knew he'd done horrible things, and he knew that many had fallen to his blade and those of the ones he controlled, but he couldn't remember specifics. Not yet, at any rate. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He'd been a damned fool he knew. The sword, which he'd thought would save them, had been his downfall. Their downfall. He'd still had some small bit of himself as a death knight though.
   That had changed when he'd placed the helm on his head. There'd been two separate beings at first, but quite quickly they'd merged into one. While there were still flashes of both beings at first, it hadn't been long before Arthas had won the struggle for control, his personality mostly taking over, with only small influences from the orc.
   Not that this had done anyone any good - the evil of both his own twisted soul and that of the orc were bad on their own, but combined he'd been a terror to everyone in his path. The former paladin shook himself from the line of thought he'd started down, knowing it would do no good to dwell on it and try to dredge up memories of that time.
   He looked down at the pack in his arms, which had, until very recently, contained two dangerous things - the helm with Ner'zhul's spirit, which was as dangerous here as it had been back home. Even now, Arthas could feel the orc's presence trying to push into his mind. They were separate now though, and he put up steel barriers to keep the other out. The second thing he'd carried was also dangerous, and he knew the two would need to be hidden far away from each other. The broken remains of Frostmourne had been hidden in the sewers under the far end of the city, in an area he knew he could find again but hoped no one else could.
   He'd located a second place for the helm, not trusting any of the locals or other displaced with such a dangerous and tempting thing, for those driven to harness power. Though he'd learned who was now king here, he was reluctant to approach his former friend, suspecting he'd be struck down before he had a chance to explain himself and ask for help.
   No, this burden was his, and his alone. Stealing quietly into one of the warehouses, he lowered himself down into the tunnels that were long abandoned - too infested with rats and other nasty things to be considered of use for storage. There was a small room at the far end of the main tunnel that was hidden unless you really knew what to look for. He'd stumbled on it quite by accident and had then watched for a while to see if it was used at all. Now that he knew it wasn't, he felt relatively secure in hiding Ner'zhul there.
   He'd stolen a couple of spell scrolls from one of the shops when the owner had been busy and distracted. One was essentially a silencing spell, which would keep Ner'zhul from reaching out. He didn't know how effective it would be - but it would do [he hoped] until he found a better spell or was able to cast one himself once he understood the magick in the realm better. The second essentially hid the entryway from view, and it would take a skilled thief or sorcerer to see the deception. He'd be able to find it, as he'd cast it himself, but no one else should be able to.
   After several hours he felt satisfied with the job and left. As he stepped outside of the room the anger that had been battering at him from Ner'zhul faded away, proving that the first spell was effective. He hoped that once he was able to prove himself he could retrieve both and lock them away safely, where no one could reach them.
   Heading back out to the streets, he sighed in relief and moved to the main road, searching for someone to give him a bit more information on the realm and where he could find work. He knew he probably looked quite intimidating, even with the cloak hiding most of his armor. Finally spotting someone who he thought might not shy away, he approached cautiously.
   \"Excuse me? I was wondering if you might be able to tell me more about this realm. I'm afraid I didn't listen closely to the welcome group when I arrived. I'm also not entirely sure where one would go to find work?\" His dual-toned voice was eerie as ever, and he hoped it didn't scare the person off. He hated asking for help. It was a blow to his pride, and there was a small resentful voice whispering in the back of his head the entire time. Why not just demand answers and make them take you somewhere?
   That wouldn't go over well though, former nobility or not, and he was trying to make a good impression. Well, as good an impression as a massive man with glowing blue eyes, an eerie voice, and full armor could, at any rate.
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10. 

    Menethil, Arthas

    September 21, 2017

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    I II Mid 40s . Captain of the Guard [eventual] . n/a . Displaced
    Arthas was born into a life of wealth and luxury. Being a prince earned him many things that he didn't even have to try for, and while he was expected to train and learn certain things so that he would be ready to be King when the time came, he was a vain and spoiled young man. He had a big heart though, and cared for his people deeply. Too deeply, and that would be his downfall.
    He had a lot of anger and frustration and was not a good candidate for a paladin, but with his father and mentor ignoring his flaws and insisting on him following in said mentor's path, he was trained as one. He tried, but it was not something he was suited for. He fought for those he cared about, but his pride and anger often got him in trouble - and cost him dearly at times. One such incident resulted in the death of his prized horse Invincible.
    
    When a dire threat to his people was discovered, Arthas went to great lengths to protect them, even slaughtering an entire town that had been corrupted so that they could not rise as undead to prey on the rest of the kingdom. These actions left him without longtime allies, friends, mentors, and even his fiance but he continued on. Following the one behind the corruption to Northrend, he betrayed his own people by burning the boats they'd taken there when he received orders to go back home, his obsession clouding his judgment. Soon after he found the cursed runeblade Frostmourne and was lost.
    
    After taking up the sword he became the Lich King's champion and was sent home to deal with his own kingdom, and then see to other kingdoms and power as well. There were many battles and power struggles with others along the way, including the ransacking of various kingdoms, and one mistake that allowed the Forsaken to claim their freedom and the banshee Sylvanas to break free and lead them. When a threat to the Lich King himself in the form of Illidan Stormrage appeared, Arthas fought with him to keep the elf from the Lich King. Soon after he was drawn to the Frozen Throne himself and urged to put the helm on.
    
    At this point he became the Lich King - a dual being comprised of Arthas and Ner'zhul, though Arthas' soul and personality were the dominant ones more often than not. For some time he sat on his throne, keeping the scourge to Northrend. Eventually he stirred on his throne and began an all out assault on the rest of Azeroth. This included forming the Knights of the Ebon Blade, a group of death knights who's purpose was to draw out Tirion Fordring. Though this was successful, he abandoned them and the attempt on Tirion's life when the Light proved too strong at Light's Hope Chapel and returned to Northrend with the few knights who remained loyal despite his betrayal.
    
    From there he began a long campaign to draw out the best and brightest among both the Horde and the Alliance, trusting that Tirion would guide and train them. He threw increasingly powerful and dangerous minions at the adventurers chosen, testing them, until they finally made their way to the Frozen Throne, where he waited for them. When they attacked, he revealed that he had been waiting for them and had planned it all out so that he could kill them in front of Tirion and then raise them as powerful scourge agents under his control. It appeared that he had toyed with them, seeing how powerful they were against him, as he was able to strike the entire group down near effortlessly.
    
    But when he prepared to raise them, Tirion managed to break free with help from the Light and struck Frostmourne, breaking it. This released the souls held within the cursed sword, who attacked and bound Arthas, allowing Tirion to strike the killing blow while Arthas' father, murdered by his own son and trapped in the sword, raised the adventurers. Just as Arthas' started to fade, a portal opened and pulled him, the helm with Ner'zhul, and the broken Frostmourne through.
    
    When he woke next, he was on a strange platform in a world not his own. His mind was free from the taint of the scourge - both the influence of the sword and that of Ner'zhul himself were gone. This has left the prince shaken and confused, and guilty as to what he'd done back home in trying to save his people. He's still not fully grasped what all happened after he took the sword up, let alone when he put the helm on.
    
    Eventually, once he's a bit more secure and well, he will take up the position of Captain of the Guard.
    III Tired Old Soldiers
    Mountain . other characters: see my plotter/tracker.
    

Topics I Participated In

1. 

   Unsettling Signs

   Started by Arthas Menethil · December 21, 2017

   [dohtml]
   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulIt had been some time since he'd found himself in the realm. His first few days had been terrible, but then the unexpected had happened and someone from his own world, someone who had every right to refuse to help and even try to kill him, had extended her hand to help him. He even felt a fondness for the dwarf, a friendship - something he thought he'd never have again.Because of that, he'd worked hard at proving himself, showing that he was neither the foolish young prince from before his fall [he'd been a damn fool], nor the hated lich king who'd caused so much pain and death. The latter's actions - his actions, who was he kidding? - still haunted him every night. He'd not admitted it to anyone, not even his new friends, but he woke up from nightmares almost every night. He'd been silent though, mercifully, so no screaming to wake the others.
   When rumors of undead beings had started to reach his ears he'd been worried. The first he'd seen hadn't looked like anything from Azeroth, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He knew firsthand how easy it was to reanimate the dead, and to also make constructs. Just because they weren't quite the same as back home didn't mean they weren't scourge. He'd not told Elzpeth about the helm yet, though he was planning to on their way to check on the damnable thing.
   Nearing the warehouse, he slowed down then stopped suddenly, not even thinking about the others traveling with him and that they might actually run into him due to his sudden halt.
   Something was wrong. He couldn't feel the magickal barriers he'd set up, and as they were supposed to be apparent to the one who'd cast them? That meant bad things. Very, very bad things. He cursed himself for a fool, then slowly turned to look at the others who'd come with. His eyes were grave when he spoke.
   \"I fear we have a very, very large problem. You see, when I first arrived, the helm came with. I was not wearing it, and in fact I was completely separated from the spirit inside it, which is how I came to be myself again. But he was still very present, and as I felt any attempt to talk with Varian would end in my death, and I also felt it was my burden to hide away and ensure no one could reach, I hid it in a warehouse, behind some very powerful spells I had managed to acquire.\"
   He hesitated, expecting disappointment and anger from those with him. \"Only, those spells are not present now. I cannot sense them, and I should.\" His mouth twisted sourly. \"This means that those rumors we've heard of undead and the few we've seen that we though just stumbled through a portal? They're probably not random at all. If that helm is not in the tunnels where I hid it, we have a disaster in the making. And it's all my fault.\" The harshness of his voice, the amount of anger aimed inward was apparent.
   Arthas half expected to be struck, or abandoned by those friends he'd started to count on. He'd already had a lot of trouble with the death knight Malokash, who understandably held a great deal of ill will toward him, and several of the others from their world also refused to have anything to do with him, declaring that he was not changed, it was all a trick, and everyone would be sorry. He certainly was sorry, but not for that reason. He was sorry for not trusting anyone with the burden of the helm, because he feared he'd now damned them to a repeat of what happened back home.
   ?[/dohtml]
2. 

   Salvation Or Damnation?

   Started by Arthas Menethil · October 28, 2017

   [dohtml]
   https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Six+Caps' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>Save me from the ghosts and shadowsBefore they eat my soulArthas hadn't been there long - a few days, perhaps a week at most. He'd been reeling since finding himself there. After so long as the Lich King, to be ripped apart and restored, at least partly, to the man he'd been before was overwhelming. He'd retreated, trying to piece together the memories he had of the last who knew how many years. He remembered picking up that damnable sword, but everything after that was a bit fuzzy.He knew he'd done horrible things, and he knew that many had fallen to his blade and those of the ones he controlled, but he couldn't remember specifics. Not yet, at any rate. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He'd been a damned fool he knew. The sword, which he'd thought would save them, had been his downfall. Their downfall. He'd still had some small bit of himself as a death knight though.
   That had changed when he'd placed the helm on his head. There'd been two separate beings at first, but quite quickly they'd merged into one. While there were still flashes of both beings at first, it hadn't been long before Arthas had won the struggle for control, his personality mostly taking over, with only small influences from the orc.
   Not that this had done anyone any good - the evil of both his own twisted soul and that of the orc were bad on their own, but combined he'd been a terror to everyone in his path. The former paladin shook himself from the line of thought he'd started down, knowing it would do no good to dwell on it and try to dredge up memories of that time.
   He looked down at the pack in his arms, which had, until very recently, contained two dangerous things - the helm with Ner'zhul's spirit, which was as dangerous here as it had been back home. Even now, Arthas could feel the orc's presence trying to push into his mind. They were separate now though, and he put up steel barriers to keep the other out. The second thing he'd carried was also dangerous, and he knew the two would need to be hidden far away from each other. The broken remains of Frostmourne had been hidden in the sewers under the far end of the city, in an area he knew he could find again but hoped no one else could.
   He'd located a second place for the helm, not trusting any of the locals or other displaced with such a dangerous and tempting thing, for those driven to harness power. Though he'd learned who was now king here, he was reluctant to approach his former friend, suspecting he'd be struck down before he had a chance to explain himself and ask for help.
   No, this burden was his, and his alone. Stealing quietly into one of the warehouses, he lowered himself down into the tunnels that were long abandoned - too infested with rats and other nasty things to be considered of use for storage. There was a small room at the far end of the main tunnel that was hidden unless you really knew what to look for. He'd stumbled on it quite by accident and had then watched for a while to see if it was used at all. Now that he knew it wasn't, he felt relatively secure in hiding Ner'zhul there.
   He'd stolen a couple of spell scrolls from one of the shops when the owner had been busy and distracted. One was essentially a silencing spell, which would keep Ner'zhul from reaching out. He didn't know how effective it would be - but it would do [he hoped] until he found a better spell or was able to cast one himself once he understood the magick in the realm better. The second essentially hid the entryway from view, and it would take a skilled thief or sorcerer to see the deception. He'd be able to find it, as he'd cast it himself, but no one else should be able to.
   After several hours he felt satisfied with the job and left. As he stepped outside of the room the anger that had been battering at him from Ner'zhul faded away, proving that the first spell was effective. He hoped that once he was able to prove himself he could retrieve both and lock them away safely, where no one could reach them.
   Heading back out to the streets, he sighed in relief and moved to the main road, searching for someone to give him a bit more information on the realm and where he could find work. He knew he probably looked quite intimidating, even with the cloak hiding most of his armor. Finally spotting someone who he thought might not shy away, he approached cautiously.
   \"Excuse me? I was wondering if you might be able to tell me more about this realm. I'm afraid I didn't listen closely to the welcome group when I arrived. I'm also not entirely sure where one would go to find work?\" His dual-toned voice was eerie as ever, and he hoped it didn't scare the person off. He hated asking for help. It was a blow to his pride, and there was a small resentful voice whispering in the back of his head the entire time. Why not just demand answers and make them take you somewhere?
   That wouldn't go over well though, former nobility or not, and he was trying to make a good impression. Well, as good an impression as a massive man with glowing blue eyes, an eerie voice, and full armor could, at any rate.
   ?[/dohtml]
3. 

   Menethil, Arthas

   Started by Arthas Menethil · September 21, 2017

   /************************************************* SEA SITE TEMPLATES BY NICOLE/THUNDERSTRUCK OF CTTW.JCINK.NET SET INCLUDES - site rules - site plot/general template - site app + accepted/pending/denied reply codes - site claims - canon claims *************************************************/ .n-sea { width: 370px; height: auto; background: #eee url(http://i.imgur.com/fwB6J41.png); padding: 40px; margin: 3px auto; font: normal normal normal 11px/120% 'Arial', sans-serif; text-align: justify; color: black; } .n-sea h1 { margin: 0 0 10px; background-color: #434343; padding: 20px; border-bottom: 5px solid #252525; color: #f1f1f1; text-align: center; font: italic normal normal 26px/100% 'Lora', serif; } .n-sea h2 { color: #434343; text-align: center; margin: 20px 20px 10px; border-bottom: 1px solid #ccc; padding: 0 0 5px; font: italic normal bold 12px/100% 'Lora', serif; text-transform: uppercase; } .n-sea a { color: #666; text-decoration: none; } .n-sea a:hover { color: #999; } .n-sea p:last-child { margin-bottom: 0; } .n-sea .n-p-main { background-color: #fff; padding: 20px; border-bottom: 5px solid #434343; } .n-sea ol { margin: 15px 0; padding: 0 0 0 40px; } .n-sea ol li { padding: 0; margin: 5px 0; } .n-sea strong { font-family: 'Lora', serif; text-transform: lowercase; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-size: 1.3em; color: #434343; } .n-sea strong.taken, .n-sea strong.open { margin-top: 0.8em; } .n-sea strong.taken { text-decoration: line-through; } .n-sea pre { white-space: pre-wrap; border-bottom: 2px solid #ddd; border-top: 2px solid #ddd; padding: 10px; } .n-sea .sea-claims { -webkit-column-count: 2; /* Chrome, Safari, Opera */ -moz-column-count: 2; /* Firefox */ column-count: 2; margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; } .n-sea .sea-claims h2 { margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; } .n-sea .sea-claims h2:first-child {margin-top: 0; } .n-sea h3 { font: normal normal bold 8px/100% 'Arial', sans-serif; text-transform: uppercase; margin: 0 20px 5px; text-align: center; } .n-sea h4 { font: normal normal bold 8px/100% 'Arial', sans-serif; text-transform: uppercase; margin: 0 20px; text-align: center; } .n-sea ul { margin: 10px; padding: 0 40px; } .sea-canons ul li { margin: 5px 0; } /******** TABBED APPLICATION *********/ .n-sea-app .n-p-main { margin-top: 50px; padding: 5px; } .n-sea-app h2:first-child { margin-top: 10px; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tabs { position: relative; min-height: 200px; /* This part sucks */ clear: both; margin: 0; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab { float: left; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab label { padding: 8px 13px; background-color: #434343; color: #fff; margin: 0 5px; position: relative; top: -36px; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab:nth-of-type(1) label { margin-left: 98px; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab [type=radio] { display: none; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-content { position: absolute; top: 10px; left: 10px; background: white; right: 10px; bottom: 10px; padding: 0; opacity: 0; } .n-sea-app [type=radio]:checked ~ label { background: #252525; z-index: 2; } .n-sea-app [type=radio]:checked ~ label ~ .n-sea-content { z-index: 1; opacity: 1; } .n-sea hr { margin: 1.2em 10%; border: none; height: 1px; background-color: #ddd; } .n-sea ::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 3px; } .n-sea ::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background-color: #eee; } .n-sea ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background-color: #bbb; } Arthas Menethil
   I II Mid 40s . Captain of the Guard [eventual] . n/a . Displaced
   Arthas was born into a life of wealth and luxury. Being a prince earned him many things that he didn't even have to try for, and while he was expected to train and learn certain things so that he would be ready to be King when the time came, he was a vain and spoiled young man. He had a big heart though, and cared for his people deeply. Too deeply, and that would be his downfall.
   He had a lot of anger and frustration and was not a good candidate for a paladin, but with his father and mentor ignoring his flaws and insisting on him following in said mentor's path, he was trained as one. He tried, but it was not something he was suited for. He fought for those he cared about, but his pride and anger often got him in trouble - and cost him dearly at times. One such incident resulted in the death of his prized horse Invincible.
   
   When a dire threat to his people was discovered, Arthas went to great lengths to protect them, even slaughtering an entire town that had been corrupted so that they could not rise as undead to prey on the rest of the kingdom. These actions left him without longtime allies, friends, mentors, and even his fiance but he continued on. Following the one behind the corruption to Northrend, he betrayed his own people by burning the boats they'd taken there when he received orders to go back home, his obsession clouding his judgment. Soon after he found the cursed runeblade Frostmourne and was lost.
   
   After taking up the sword he became the Lich King's champion and was sent home to deal with his own kingdom, and then see to other kingdoms and power as well. There were many battles and power struggles with others along the way, including the ransacking of various kingdoms, and one mistake that allowed the Forsaken to claim their freedom and the banshee Sylvanas to break free and lead them. When a threat to the Lich King himself in the form of Illidan Stormrage appeared, Arthas fought with him to keep the elf from the Lich King. Soon after he was drawn to the Frozen Throne himself and urged to put the helm on.
   
   At this point he became the Lich King - a dual being comprised of Arthas and Ner'zhul, though Arthas' soul and personality were the dominant ones more often than not. For some time he sat on his throne, keeping the scourge to Northrend. Eventually he stirred on his throne and began an all out assault on the rest of Azeroth. This included forming the Knights of the Ebon Blade, a group of death knights who's purpose was to draw out Tirion Fordring. Though this was successful, he abandoned them and the attempt on Tirion's life when the Light proved too strong at Light's Hope Chapel and returned to Northrend with the few knights who remained loyal despite his betrayal.
   
   From there he began a long campaign to draw out the best and brightest among both the Horde and the Alliance, trusting that Tirion would guide and train them. He threw increasingly powerful and dangerous minions at the adventurers chosen, testing them, until they finally made their way to the Frozen Throne, where he waited for them. When they attacked, he revealed that he had been waiting for them and had planned it all out so that he could kill them in front of Tirion and then raise them as powerful scourge agents under his control. It appeared that he had toyed with them, seeing how powerful they were against him, as he was able to strike the entire group down near effortlessly.
   
   But when he prepared to raise them, Tirion managed to break free with help from the Light and struck Frostmourne, breaking it. This released the souls held within the cursed sword, who attacked and bound Arthas, allowing Tirion to strike the killing blow while Arthas' father, murdered by his own son and trapped in the sword, raised the adventurers. Just as Arthas' started to fade, a portal opened and pulled him, the helm with Ner'zhul, and the broken Frostmourne through.
   
   When he woke next, he was on a strange platform in a world not his own. His mind was free from the taint of the scourge - both the influence of the sword and that of Ner'zhul himself were gone. This has left the prince shaken and confused, and guilty as to what he'd done back home in trying to save his people. He's still not fully grasped what all happened after he took the sword up, let alone when he put the helm on.
   
   Eventually, once he's a bit more secure and well, he will take up the position of Captain of the Guard.
   III Tired Old Soldiers
   Mountain . other characters: see my plotter/tracker.
   

Other Characters by this Player