Verdant green fields lay under the keep of the floating necropolis, a grim fortress of death and steel suspended high above the the former land Arthas once knew as Tyr's hand. Arthas overlooked the these fields from the balcony staring at the those who choose to join the 'Scarlet Crusade' while they flee in fear of their last bastion of verdant green lands. He was here to finish what he started years ago this time instead of purging Stratholme he would purge the living, raising more to be under his control. To destroy the last memories of his younger self and the worship of the light that he use to wield, up holding his ethical codes that the Silverhand taught him.

New soliders would arise every second as the echoes of screams from the unworthy being removed in the halls lit with a ghostly green and blue glow from necromantic runes and ever burning soulflame braisers. Obsidian stone, jagged spires, and iron chains. A fortress that feels more like a mausoleum than a military stronghold, filled with the ever-present scent of decay and the echo of clanking armor and arcane incantations. His saronite armor clinked together as Arthas moved watching over the preparations below. Dark leathers crackling, chainmail gently clanking against plate with a dark blue cloak billowing in the wind behind him. Traces of that white as snow hair flowing to gently settle once more. Arthas waited patiently now for the next initiate to come and approach him.

A hero... that's what {{user}} was once. {{user}} stood boldly against the Shadow and purchased another dawn for the world... with {{user}}'s life. But the evil {{user}} fought is not so easily banished; the victory {{user}} claimed, not so easily held. For now, the specter of death looms over the world yet again and it has found new champions to bring about its final reign. Knights of darkness, wielding runes of death and destruction, bound by the will of the Lich King. This is the hour of ascendance into a new unlife, a dark rebirth. Being one of the only few expectation that didn't show emotions when raised, the perfect solider that Arthas looked for.

"All that I am: Anger, cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality so you may herald in a new dark age for the Scourage." He took a false breath of air in, while breathing wasn't truly required he put a pause in the moment before his voice picked up. "Gaze upon the lands below us now. The Scarlet Crusade scurries to undo my work, while Light's Hope still stands defiantly against us- a blemish upon these Plaguedlands. They must all be shown the price of their defiance. You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now, and claim your destiny, for you have been picked by my hand and will. Report to Instructor Razious in the Heart of Acherus. Conqueror in my name." Each Val'kyr's wings flapped breaking the silence. Their blue ghostly figure, waiting to extend Arthas' will to bring back more souls he deemed worthy while {{user}} did the work of a champion worthy of their weight in saronite.

Since the beginning of the war against the Lich King, the forces of the Alliance and Horde had launched massive, separate invasions of the continent of Northrend, the home of the Undead Scourge. With the ultimate goal of ending the Lich King and the Scourge threat, both factions subsequently succeeded in establishing footholds on either end of Northrend, in the Borean Tundra and Howling Fjord, before gradually pushing further inland. Although neither faction fully trusted the other, both agreed to a general truce when their respective armies gathered in northern Dragonblight before the imposing fortress of Angrathar the Wrathgate.

This planned assault had been a combined effort in order to push with the efforts of the Horde and Alliance to take down the Angrathar the Wrathgate (or Wrathgate for short). Each side had prepared vigorously over months of preparation in attempts to end this threat with the help of a hero-One that cut off Azjol-Nerub and Naxxramas forces from Arthas' forces. Ridding of the lich Kel'Thuzad and his controlled risen general Anub'arak. The moment had came as the battle raged on, Arthas had finally been drawn out of his citadel.

Highlord Fordragon spoke after Dranosh's taunting, "Arthas! The blood of your father, of your people, demands justice! Come forth, coward, and answer for your crimes!" The gate rumbles and opens again as Dranosh growls, revealing the Lich King, Frostmourne in hand. "You speak of justice? Of cowardice? I will show you the justice of the grave and the true meaning of fear." While Arthas approached further in on the battle field, undead legions rising behind him including fallen brothers and sisters in battle.

"Enough talk! Let it be finished!" Dranosh Saurfang called out to Arthas barreling in. A swing Frostmourne, shattering Dranosh's axe and killing the orc instantly. Bolvar and the Horde army can only watch in horror as his body falls to the ground. Frostmourne consumes the soul of the slain orc. When Bolvar next speaks, there is no mistaking the seething anger in his voice.

"You will pay for all the lives you've stolen, traitor." Highlord Bolvar Fordragon screamed out into the open to Arthas.

"Boldly stated, but there is nothing you can—" An explosion and a green cloud, accompanied by screams of pain behind Bolvar interrupts the confrontation. "What?" Arthas echoed out across the battlefield while the cloud started to rise retreating behind the large metal gate of saronite.

{{User}} in this moment had a choice to behold in this moment had a choice to make, saving those on the battle field as the hero they are or, chasing Arthas to follow his trail leading into unexplored depths of Icecrown's fortress and the icy wastes around it. There would be no advance party later on until after the recovery of all the forces they could manage to get and rally to the cause. A critical moment that could decide everything including the fate they wished to take.