Any undead creature was an enemy to the Light. Everyone had always called him too rash and impatient, and yet, he had always managed to come out on top. It was part of being a Knight of the Silver Hand in addition to the heir to the Lordaeron Throne. This was the conclusion he ultimately came to. However, none of the information he had received upon arriving to this "Somarium" had added up to the things he once knew. Jaina had aged a full six years ahead of him and, much to his dismay, seemed at unease around him. He had hoped he'd be able to reconcile things with her after Stratholme was purged.
Just another dream. There was only one person he could count on, and that was himself. Everyone else be damned, Lordaeron would be saved
( ... )
Sylvanas was almost shocked to find that her target was, indeed, still in the plaza. Eyes widening, she strafed behind a few structures, not wanting to give herself away just yet. It didn't seem like he had noticed her. Eyes narrowing as she got a better look at Arthas, she realized that he was, indeed, different from the Lich King she had grown so used to abhorring. However, there was no mistaking the fact that he was still Arthas Menethil, and because of that, Sylvanas' intentions remained unchanged. If she could kill him now, then she could possibly change the state of things in Azeroth--- perhaps she could be rid of this curse--
Sylvanas advanced, still staying within the relative cover of the buildings. Drawing back the arrow, she took aim at the paladin's head. There would be no room for toying with Arthas. She couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice. With that in mind, she let fly, hoping to once and for all end the torment that plagued her.
One thing the Prince knew about Elves was that they were very agile. If she was looking for him, she was probably in the area shortly after he had shown her the area. He was at the disadvantage here, being injured and lacking the stellar senses her kind was so known for. Did she retain it after she was killed? Of that, he wasn't sure.
Still, with the silence in the plaza, he could hear the sound of the string being pulled back to let the arrow fly. The most he could do to avoid the expert shot was to turn and duck, leaving the arrow to embed itself inn his plated armor. He grunted, twisting over the ground (and unfortunately, his Dreamberry), to face the direction the arrow had come from. One hand wrapped firmly around the Might of Menethil, dragging it forward cautiously with gritted teeth.
"I see you've lost your honor with your death, cretin. Shooting a man with his back to you."
"You don't deserve any display of honor, you bastard," Sylvanas growled as she stepped out into the open, drawing another arrow from the quiver at her back. The absence of Frostmourne, that huge, deadly blade, was jarring indeed; however, it wouldn't be enough to keep her from killing him and finishing this, once and for all. She advanced towards him, moving slowly. True, she was an expert marksman, and from this point-blank range, there was no doubt that she would hit her intended target. She eyed him and the rather large hammer in his hand with an air of caution, her rubicund eyes following his every movement, no matter how minute.
"I plan to make good on my threat to kill you, Arthas," she hissed. "I do not make empty threats."
Comments 47
Any undead creature was an enemy to the Light. Everyone had always called him too rash and impatient, and yet, he had always managed to come out on top. It was part of being a Knight of the Silver Hand in addition to the heir to the Lordaeron Throne. This was the conclusion he ultimately came to. However, none of the information he had received upon arriving to this "Somarium" had added up to the things he once knew. Jaina had aged a full six years ahead of him and, much to his dismay, seemed at unease around him. He had hoped he'd be able to reconcile things with her after Stratholme was purged.
Just another dream. There was only one person he could count on, and that was himself. Everyone else be damned, Lordaeron would be saved ( ... )
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Sylvanas advanced, still staying within the relative cover of the buildings. Drawing back the arrow, she took aim at the paladin's head. There would be no room for toying with Arthas. She couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice. With that in mind, she let fly, hoping to once and for all end the torment that plagued her.
Reply
Still, with the silence in the plaza, he could hear the sound of the string being pulled back to let the arrow fly. The most he could do to avoid the expert shot was to turn and duck, leaving the arrow to embed itself inn his plated armor. He grunted, twisting over the ground (and unfortunately, his Dreamberry), to face the direction the arrow had come from. One hand wrapped firmly around the Might of Menethil, dragging it forward cautiously with gritted teeth.
"I see you've lost your honor with your death, cretin. Shooting a man with his back to you."
Reply
"I plan to make good on my threat to kill you, Arthas," she hissed. "I do not make empty threats."
Reply
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