Frostmourne starves

Chapter 1

Noise. It was loud. Hundreds of Horde fighters scurried around me. We were fighting. For far too long ... Our enemy was the scourge. The horror of Arthas, who had conjured the Lich King. I had been standing on the battlefield for hours, and the wish sprout for all of this to come to an end, even if I died.

I raised my sword again and struck one enemy after the other. Again and again loud screams came to my pointed ears. Screams of death, cries of pain and screams of fear. My skull literally boomed and if it were a machine you would have seen it smoke. Speaking of the machine, the goblins arrived with a new war machine, which surprisingly did not fall apart. Impressed, I raised an eyebrow, but frowned again as soon as I saw an orc woman, hobbling through the rows dragging a troll with her. I knew the troll. Without wasting another second, I hurried to them. What the orc woman then told me should seal my fate.

"He's here," she gasped, breathing heavily, pointing to the troll, who was trembling through cold and frostbite.

Again, my head would have been seen smoking. My eyes flicked across the battlefield. Far and wide only the scourge, undead dragons and musty figures that looked like 4 creatures of Azeroth had been made into one.

And then I saw him. My heart skipped a beat and the blood froze in my veins. I hurriedly helped the troll to its feet and dragged it back as far as I could. I left him in the care of a capable priest and ran back to the battlefront. Cold wind came up, the sky got even darker if possible and I felt like it was winter. Everything seemed oppressive and dark. As if all the light in the world had gone out and the darkness had won. I swore, by my soul, I would give my everything to end this crime. With renewed courage and vengeful anger, I plunged into battle. Swords, axes, and lances hit each other. Wood splintered and blood splattered. The other fighters at my side seemed similar when they saw the Lich King. A taure to my right swung a tree trunk through the rows of the scourge that their bones could be heard cracking. But it was not just undead bones that we were fighting, because the Lich King had not sent his strongest unit to the field yet. The death knights.

However, that should change now. Arthas swung Frostgram forward and gave the signal to attack. A horde of riders rushed towards us and jumped effortlessly over our ranks, landed behind us, and attacked everything that stood in their way. I thought of all the injured, the healers and those who were not well equipped. As if one of these knights heard my thoughts, he immediately struck down a troll shaman. Whether I wanted it or not, it tore me to this rider, filled with rage, I struck the undead warhorse, it whined up and threw off the knight. The latter immediately rose again and looked straight into my greens with his cold, blue eyes. I felt cold. The ground froze under my feet and this man, it was a human being, only radiated death.

As if in slow motion, I followed the blow of his sword, dived under it and stabbed mine through the chest plate directly into the heart. He should have fallen. He should have died. But he just grinned at me under his dark helmet and punched me again. In a flash I jerked my weapon out of his body and managed to escape the fatal blow by a hair's breadth. He only hit my shoulder, which was not damaged by my armor, but the unnaturally strong force of his blow threw me back. I stumbled, but caught myself and faced my opponent again. We looked at each other very closely, as if we were alone, nobody bothered us and not even the cold seemed to bother me anymore. I raised my sword, said a sacred spell, and the ground below us lit up. A beam of light broke through the thick dark clouds and bathed us in warm light. The death knight spat contemptuously on the floor and ran towards me roaring. The engraved runes of my weapon glowed and our swords met. We stood there struggling for power and held against the strength of each other. He looked at me grimly, I returned that look and said another blessing, whereupon the death knight shrank away. I take this opportunity and hit him hard. This time he staggered, his shining eyes looking at me stunned when he saw the blood running down on him. I struck again and cut off his head.

Exhausted and breathing heavily, I watched him collapse. I turned around and noticed that the warm light was already gone and my fellow comrades seemed to have similar problems with their opponents.

Behind all the enemies I saw Arthas again. He just stood there. Observed and did nothing. This anger grabbed me again and I cursed.

Before anything else could happen, a gigantic bony dragon flew over us and seemed to make it another 10 degrees colder. A gentle ice storm swept over us and the enormous claws of the dragon thinned our rows. Before I knew what was happening, I noticed that I was almost alone in the battle line. Many of my allies froze to the ground and stopped moving. But the mass of the adversaries also seemed to have decimated. Shivering from the cold, I immediately knew reason.

Arthas. He walked towards us. Or to me? I fixed the Lich King and it felt like he was fixing me too. I stood there stunned and watched how the man approached me, time passed more slowly than ever. I heard Arthas' voice. It was so terrifying that my breath got caught in my throat.

"Are you craving power?" I could almost hear the cruel grin. I did not dare to turn away, let alone response him. Only a few more meters separated us from each other, and he raised Frostmourne. Everything happened so quickly.

A dark ray grabbed me and pulled me towards the king. His aura was much more intense than that of the death knights. I felt as though death in person had swept me away.

I struggled as best as I could against the dark threads that held me, but without much success. I looked in awe at the blade in the Lich King's hands. Frostmourne. The weapon that brought all the suffering and corruption upon us. With all my strength I raised my sword and struck Arthas. My blade crossed his one.

He pulled me closer and put his icy hand around my neck. My breath was instantly gone, I dropped my sword and tried to free myself from his grip.

"Your courage should be rewarded" I heard him say, even though the rustling of blood in my ears seemed extremely loud, this voice drowned out everything and I had the feeling that I heard him speak into my head.

His grip loosened a little and he pushed me a bit away from him to fill the distance with Frostmourne. The puncture was almost painless, so quickly the blade penetrated my body. She cut my armor like I was not wearing any. Blood dripped onto the icy floor and the last thing I saw was Arthas grinning diabolically before I was overcome by such a tremendous amount of pain that I lost consciousness.

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Here is my translation of my fanfiktion of World of Warcarft :) 
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