Arthas Menethil receives [Soul Shard] x1

[northrend]

[For anyone that happens to be looking at the network when it comes back online, they will find not a familiar face (at least not for most). The will find a very large man, clad in battleworn dreadplate, made of a metal only a few would recognize, particularly if they've consorted with Koltira Deathweaver in any fashion. His hair is ghost white an wispy, face skeletal and skin pale.

The most striking feature is his glowing blue eyes, just a hint of stark green behind them, which is most noticeable when he turns his gaze to the camera, large gloved hand still reaching for the communicator, as if he just finished how to figure it out. Briefly, his expression narrows and he shifts to one knee, which allows the view of Frostmourne in his other hand beside him. He then looks up as there is noise of someone approaching offscreen. A devilish, predatory smirk replaces the previous grim expression for a moment before he looks back down at the screen, the expression smoothing to something almost friendly.]

Rumor has it you're all just dying for a breath of fresh air. I have ways of fixing that.

Comments

[tyrians]

holy mackeral
dogg got some bling
nice weaprawn btw
38o

[northrend]

[w...hat that was not a reaction he was expecting. The smile disappears and he squints a little.

But she compliments Frostmourne, so he scoffs a little. "Nice weapon". That's...hilarious.]

Frostmourne. Yes, it is a nice weapon, isn't it?

[tyrians]

not as great as my gold pointy jam but
aint too bad

[northrend]

[gold pointy jam WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING. HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND YOUR HIP YOUNG LINGO.]

You're going to have to speak common, if you're going to speak to me at all.

[tyrians]

what
the way i talk too )(ARD for you to undersand or somefin chump
38)

[northrend]

I will not waste my time deciphering your dialect.

[tyrians]

well then youre lucky im reely glubbin nice
let me break it down for ya home skillet
I
LIK-E
YOUR
W-EAPON
BUT IT AINT
AS COOL
AS MIN-E
got it

[northrend]

[He just. Stares. He's pretty deadpan. Not as cool as her's. Somehow he doubts that very much. AND WHAT IS HER VERNACULAR GREAT ELDERS BELOW.]

...what do you call yourself? And what manner of creature are you?

[Because you can't be human there's just no way, no decent human would ever talk like that.]

[tyrians]

the names meenah
and im a fuckin troll yo
the shell are you

[northrend]

...a troll.

[He doens't answer because he doesn't believe you. He's heard of trolls. You are not a troll.]

[tyrians]

yea
a troll

[northrend]

You do not sound like any troll I am familiar with.

[tyrians]

we dont live under bridges neither
shoreprise

[northrend]

I was not under the impression that trolls lived under bridges.

[qurl, whatchu talkin bout]

[tyrians]

yea neither was i until these glubbin humans started bubblin
their trolls are fucking W-EIRD yo
does that mean you aint human or somefin
i mean you dont look like the ones ive met
but theyre prawny motherglubbers too
38o

[northrend]

Once, perhaps. Now I am Scourge. The Lich King.

[tyrians]

what

[northrend]

I'm not certain what part of that statement was difficult. I reign over the undead.

[tyrians]

so like
ghost and stuff

[northrend]

Those fall under my reign of command, yes.

[tyrians]

and you can totes just get them spook shorties to do whatebber you want right