Who: Arthas Menethil/(open) When: Sometime in the early afternoon Where: Lawrence, Kansas. A busy area in town. What: Arthas arrives. Ratings: PG-13, for now. [[His armor(ish): http://tinyurl.com/22qapsu His sword: http://tinyurl.com/267cyxv]]
Some people might think logically about being transported to another dimension. They might immediately wonder why, start researching methods to return home, find someone to calmly explain to them where they were. Others might just go with it, figuring that their lives back where they had come from weren’t really all that great, and now was a good time to start over.
Arthas Menethil, however, was not either of those people. He had been transported in the afternoon, into the midst of the city, where it was currently as crowded as it probably ever got on a normal day. There were alien looking buildings, vehicles even goblins hadn’t thought up yet, and the manner of dress was something he had never seen before. He stuck out like a sore thumb, as it were, considering his body was sheathed in a layer of chain-mail, and on top of that, heavy plate armor. A sword was gripped tightly in one hand, glowing blue and perpetually emanating frost.
“You.” He grabbed a random male passerby from the sidewalk by the collar of his shirt, the sharp metal armor covering his knuckles dangerously close to his throat. “I am Prince Arthas Menethil of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. If you do not tell me where I am, I swear on my father’s throne I will strike you down where you stand.” Of course, this got no legible answer other than a squawk for help, and it was then that he heard the dark whisper in his mind.
No…mercy…
But he had to fight it. He winced against the demanding call of the sword, and dropped the man, hurrying off into an alleyway to regain his composure. What was happening here? Did these people not know of his land? And why, with his father’s blood still drying on his hands, had he been called here?