[His prince, Arthas. His king. His slaver. His grip tightens on his glass, frost spreading from his fingers over the smooth surface. You might feel a bit of a chill, Ashraf.
The plague, of course he would try to spread it. To get an army. And why? Thassarian never quite understood Arthas' motives, just understood the anger and rage when he realized the same thing that every Death Knight at Light's Hope had-
They were expendable to Arthas.
They meant nothing to him.
His anger, too, was close and personal. A deep grief that he had been led so astray. That he had trusted Arthas, blindly. Had believed in him. And for what? To be damned and raised as nothing more than a tool of war for Arthas to throw away when it suited him.
His prince, Arthas.
How much he had once believed in him. How much their entire kingdom had. He could still remember writing to Leryssa- telling her what a good and virtuous man Arthas was. How safe their home was, with the prince to defend it.
"And I would gladly lay down my own life to aid him in this cause."
Words he had written a lifetime ago. That he had meant, at the time. That he had eventually carried out.
Words that he regretted, now.
He catches himself, the frost spreading across the bar, crystals of proper ice forming on his hands, and blinks, sitting back and calming himself, trying to bring his body back to room temperature, to make his thick, dark blood not freeze in his veins.]
I'll keep that in mind, then, but I hope it never comes to it.
I started and I couldn't stop.
[His prince, Arthas. His king. His slaver. His grip tightens on his glass, frost spreading from his fingers over the smooth surface. You might feel a bit of a chill, Ashraf.
The plague, of course he would try to spread it. To get an army. And why? Thassarian never quite understood Arthas' motives, just understood the anger and rage when he realized the same thing that every Death Knight at Light's Hope had-
They were expendable to Arthas.
They meant nothing to him.
His anger, too, was close and personal. A deep grief that he had been led so astray. That he had trusted Arthas, blindly. Had believed in him. And for what? To be damned and raised as nothing more than a tool of war for Arthas to throw away when it suited him.
His prince, Arthas.
How much he had once believed in him. How much their entire kingdom had. He could still remember writing to Leryssa- telling her what a good and virtuous man Arthas was. How safe their home was, with the prince to defend it.
"And I would gladly lay down my own life to aid him in this cause."
Words he had written a lifetime ago. That he had meant, at the time. That he had eventually carried out.
Words that he regretted, now.
He catches himself, the frost spreading across the bar, crystals of proper ice forming on his hands, and blinks, sitting back and calming himself, trying to bring his body back to room temperature, to make his thick, dark blood not freeze in his veins.]
I'll keep that in mind, then, but I hope it never comes to it.