Arthas Menethil receives [Soul Shard] x1
[A distant jingle of chainmail resounds through the journal, followed by several heavy steps of saronite dreadplate coming in contact with the floor. A low, frustrated growl keens through the pages, followed by the rather loud screech of a sword scraping across the floor as the man in question pulls it to his thick-hide gloves. He speaks softly to himself, a deep reverberation masking his normal tone.]
Idiot Lich...this was not part of the plan.
[There is more pacing, the sound of a cloak dragging across the floor and snagging occasionally. This time, Arthas shouts at the air, and he sounds none too pleased.]
If you wanted me elsewhere, I could have gotten here just as easily myself, you damned ghost! I did not bathe you in that forsaken fount for you to run like a dog with its tail between its legs!
Return to me at once! You and that banshee.
NOW!
Idiot Lich...this was not part of the plan.
[There is more pacing, the sound of a cloak dragging across the floor and snagging occasionally. This time, Arthas shouts at the air, and he sounds none too pleased.]
If you wanted me elsewhere, I could have gotten here just as easily myself, you damned ghost! I did not bathe you in that forsaken fount for you to run like a dog with its tail between its legs!
Return to me at once! You and that banshee.
NOW!