He awoke.
Immediately, he realized that something was amiss. In fact, the entire situation before him was all wrong.
For one thing, he was alive. That much was impossible; he clearly remembered dying... as well as a few things that happened afterwards.
“Did someone... bring me back?” he wondered, but he quickly brushed off that idea. There wasn't anyone left that would want him back. “Not even her.” he lamented, and the very thought hurt him more than pain of death.
The second thing that was wrong, was noticed by him when he first opened his eyes. He was surrounded by a dark, shaded forest. And by dark, he meant REALLY dark. Not by only the lack of sunlight, but also... the seeming wrongness of this place. As if this forest, and whatever might be in it, didn't belong here. It made HIS blood run cold, and that's saying something!
As the impact of that internal assessment hit him, he noticed something else was very wrong.
He put his hand upon his chest.
...ba-dump...ba-dump...ba-dump…
“I have a... heart...?”
That was even more absurd than the fact that he was even alive. Not only because he personally cut out his own beating heart, but the fact that it was physically destroyed before his own eyes, mere months before his defeat, and death. He shivered, as he remembered the sheer pain he felt that day.
He looked down, towards his chest. There were two huge scars; one stretched across his rib cage as a painful reminder of a wound that was so deep, it had actually grazed his then-living heart. That near-death blow had prompted him to physically cut it out of himself in the first place. The second one...was from the weapon strike that had ended him, delivered by the runeblade created as a sister blade and direct counter to his Frostmourne; Shadowmourne. And the former was shattered.
“Why am I alive...?” he wondered again, staring at his scars. After a moment, he noticed that where there weren't scars, there was a coat of fur; A white-colored fur coat.
“Did somebody turn me into one of those mongrels when I wasn't looking?!” he thought angrily, as he started to panic, only to notice that whatever had happened to him, was far more disturbing, insane, odd, and possibly idiotic than anything he knew of. The realization hit him hard, as soon as he shifted his gaze towards what was originally one of his hands.
“What...? By all that is holy, is this...a hoof, instead of my hand?!” he uttered to no one in particular, speaking for the first time since he had first woken up.
He stared at it in disbelief for what felt like hours to him, until he finally broke his stupor, and tried to get up. Only to struggle without result. Bending his head, he gave himself a good look at his body. As he had suspected, he had been turned into a horse. A small, white horse.
“Is this some bizarre version of… hell...?” he muttered to himself, while attempting to stand up again, and succeeding the second time. “If it is some sort of hell, then I don't understand it. I mean, it's unusual, but I've always liked horses...”
Memories of his late beloved steed washed over him, but he promptly shook them off. Now was not the time to lament what he had done to him. “It doesn't feel like that much of a punishment... Wait a second… am I… talking?? How the bloody hell I can be a horse, and still talk?!” he exclaimed, using one of his old mentor's favorite verbal curses.
As he tried to figure out how he would walk on four legs (which was surprisingly difficult), he noticed a small pond nearby. Deciding that he would take a good look at himself, he carefully, and awkwardly, walked towards it.
The face that returned his gaze from the surface of the pond was both odd and...disturbingly familiar. It had obvious horse features, but they appeared to be toned down to humanoid facial standards, if the dumbfounded expression it wore was any indication. However, what struck him the hardest was the color of his hair (“Er… mane” he mentally corrected himself), as well as his tail, which he hadn't noticed earlier. They both wore the same golden color that his hair used to have.
“Indeed, 'used to have'… before all of the unspeakable things I did back then...”
He peered sadly into his sea-colored eyes (which, he noted, were ridiculously large), as they were reflected in this small pond, and pondered out loud:
“What am I? Who am I?”
Three loud shrieks pierced his thoughts from somewhere nearby, as though to answer his pondering questions.
Instantly, he stood up. Some people were in trouble, and that was the only thing that was clear to him, so far; he could sort out his identity problems later. And with that set in his mind, he started to run towards the direction of those screams...only to fall on his face.
Frustrated, he stood up once again, but this time, he focused himself. He closed his eyes, and tried to recall how his dear steed had moved, how he ran, how he jumped…
“Bah! There's no time for this!” he suddenly scolded to himself. Having thought this through, he started running once more (or, galloping, rather), with far more success this time. Feeling a small amount of relief after this small personal victory, he tried to focus towards the direction of the screams, and they were heard once more.
He quickened his pace in response.
If it weren't for the fact that this entire situation didn't make any sense to him to begin with, he would have believed that he was seeing things.
In front of him was a clearing in the forest, where three little horses were screaming for help. They were surrounded by wild creatures, which appeared to be something out of some lumberjack's twisted nightmare; a pack of wolves...that appeared as though they were made out of wood.
This image before him was so unbelievable, that he nearly stopped. But, he somehow managed to get a hold of his uncontrolled chain of thoughts, and quickly charged towards the unusual wolves.
When he slammed his body against the closest wolf, he noticed that they didn't just look as if though they were made of wood, they felt like they were made of wood. Nonetheless, he struck the wolf with enough force to hurl its body right into the wolf next to it.
With two of the pack out of the way (at least for the moment), he stood protectively in front of the little ones and called out towards them: “Stay close to me!”, after which he returned his attention to the wolves.
There were five of them, including the two that were already getting back up off the ground. They appeared to have been staggered by his sudden attack, but were quickly recovering their original intent. Already, they began to encircle around their prey, attempting to surround them again.
Not that he planned to ever give them a chance to do that. He quickly leaped next to the closest wolf, whirled around, and kicked it forcefully with his hind legs. Judging from the painful-sounding whimper that the wood-like creature produced, it was apparently quite effective, even with its hard outer skin. Wasting no time to glance at it, he dashed back next to the little ones, and headbutted the wolf that was attempting to bite them, perhaps thinking that it would have time for such a bold move. The creature was proven painfully wrong.
He quickly turned around in time to see another wolf leaping towards him, with teeth bared. This time, he stepped to one side, dodging it, then back-hoofing it at the back of its skull. He made a mental note to himself that it was probably a good thing that he had hooves right now – had he tried something like this against a creature like this just bare hands, he was fairly certain he would have broken a few bones in it, and the wolf would probably have barely felt it. For now, it awkwardly stumbled away; seemingly dazed and dizzy from the harsh impact strike against its head.
He looked towards the wolves. There were two left that hadn't attacked him yet. Among them was the wolf he had charged into at the beginning, or at least he thought so; he couldn't really tell, either way. Besides them, the only wolf still present was the one he rammed with his head.
He stomped one hoof forward, harshly. If it had just been him, then he had little doubt that he could defeat them, even with this weird body he found himself in. But with the little ones behind him, he preferred to not take his chances.
“GET LOST!” he shouted harshly and angrily at them, trying to intimidate them.
The display appeared to work, at first. The two wolves that he had already hit started to back away in evident fear; they were clearly not terribly keen on being injured by a capable combatant again. However, the largest wolf, which had kept itself towards the back of the pack when they had attacked, now stepped forward.
He frowned with annoyance. Guessing by how much larger this one was, along with the fact that it had waited for the rest of the pack to create an opening for an easier killing blow towards the stronger individual – him – must have meant this was the alpha member of this pack. This did not bode so well for him. For one, it probably wouldn't be so quick to show weakness to its pack by surrendering to its apparent prey, so it wouldn't be simple to intimidate. And two, noting the scars that stretched across its muzzle and body, it was probable that this wolf was a veteran among its kind, and familiar with situations where the prey fought back. The one good thing amidst it all, was that it appeared to have focused solely on him (for obvious reasons), so the little ones were probably out of harm's way for the moment.
Uttering a silent prayer for the safety of the little ones (not for himself, for he very well knew that he deserved a fate far worse than death, even now), he focused his gaze upon the alpha wolf. It was pacing slowly, while attempting to approach from his left side. The without further warning, the alpha suddenly pounced at him. Having anticipated that much, he quickly pressed his body closer to the ground, intending to hopefully cause the alpha to overshoot its target, while preparing to strike his skull with his hind legs as it flew over in midair.
But he didn't get the chance to do the last part…
Instantly, the alpha wolf grasped at his neck with all four of its paws, halting its flight. Without even missing a beat, the alpha instantly landed on the ground, then immediately followed it up by harshly kicking the pony head-first into one of the many trees with its hind paws.
"Since when can wolves do something like that?” he briefly wondered in shocked astonishment, before impacting against the tree.
Attempting to stand, the force of the impact had left him dazed. He nearly collapsed towards the ground, when he heard the three voices of the little ones call out simultaneously:
“Look out!”
He managed to react just barely in time to throw his front hooves between the open jaws of the alpha wolf.
Seeing sharp teeth so close to his throat – and once again being thankful for the hard hooves he currently had instead of soft hands – he curled his hind legs, and (desperately hoping that the creature on top of him of him was a male) kicked into it with all his might, aiming at one spot that he was pretty certain wouldn't have as durable skin.
The contrasting screech of pain that the wolf produced was loud enough startle everything in the forest. Taking advantage of the overwhelming pain the wolf was immobilized by, he quickly dashed away, and grabbed a tree branch that had likely broken off from his previous impact with his teeth. He then swung it with as much speed and force that one could muster after fighting in many battles, and the strike made contact with the alpha wolf's forehead, just as the alpha wolf had finished recovering itself and had attempted to turn its head towards him. He finished by using the momentum to whirl himself around again, and kicked him hard, again in the head. The force of the impact hurled the alpha wolf some distance away from its former quarry.
He glanced around to be sure that the young ones were safe, and ensure that the wolves hadn't gotten any bold ideas while he was dealing with their apparent leader. The kids were staring at him with wide eyes, but otherwise appeared to be unharmed. The remaining wolves, on the other hand, (“Or other hoof” he mused) were visibly terrified, and were fearfully backing away.
He turned his attention back towards the alpha wolf, which was attempting to stand up, while trembling. He then noticed that a few of its teeth had been scattered on the grass. Just like before, he harshly stomped his hoof on the ground and shouted, attempting to be as loud and forceful as possible:
“I will not say this again; GET LOST!!”
This time, the message got through. The alpha wolf, having recovered to its feet, quickly turned away and hastily scurried off, with its tail between its legs. The rest of its pack quickly followed the example.
“That. Was. Awesome!!!” erupted three voices behind him, which was followed by two similar cheers.
He smiled, briefly. How long had it been since he had heard someone proclaim such things about him? He turned around, amused that he wasn't even surprised at this point that they could talk.
“I guess nothing can surprise me now.”
He would regret making that thought the moment it concluded in his mind. Now that he was able to get a good look at the three fillies (not knowing how the hell he could know they were girl-horses), he noticed that the orange one with purple mane had wings, and the gray one with pink-purple mane had a horn. The only 'normal' one out of the three was the light yellow one with red mane with a pink bow.
“...This is going to be a long day.” he mused wearily, feeling quite dizzy.
“I'm glad that you think so.” he said aloud to the three fillies. “Are any of you hurt?”
“No, mister, and its all thanks t'ya!” said the yellow one.
“You were so awesome!” added the gray one with the horn.
“Yeah! I mean,” the orange one with wings rolled her eyes, “you weren't as awesome as Rainbow Dash, obviously, but still...”
“Putting aside the heroism of this 'Rainbow Dash',” he started, while at the same time, wondering:
“What kind of name is ‘Rainbow Dash’, anyways?”
“Do the three of you mind explaining to me; just what are you all doing in a place like this?” he finished, with a stern expression on his face.
The three fillies looked at each other, with a guilty look in their eyes.
“We were gonna visit Zecora...”
“... to see if she could teach us her native language...”
“... and then we... kinda got lost.”
“Why am I not surprised by the last one...?”
“Ah, well...” he said, dropping the stern expression, “I suppose I'll leave the scolding to your families. And I can't really hold against you the fact that you're lost, since I am as well.”
“Really? How did'ya get lost, mister?”
“Long story. Maybe I'll tell you about it some other time. But for now, we should get out of this forest. Let’s try that way.” he added, while pointing with one hoof.
“How do you know Ponyville is that way?” asked the filly with wings.
He was about to snort a laugh on that name, until he remembered that his own hometown's name really wasn't any more original, either. Instead, he chuckled in his thoughts:
“So we are ponies, then? Damn...I liked it better when I was a horse!”
“I don't.” he answered, truthfully. “But the wolves went in the opposite direction.”
It seemed to sound like a good enough reason for the fillies, since all at once, they started walking in the direction he had suggested. When he was certain that they weren't watching him, he pressed a hoof to the back of his head, and then stared at it.
There was fresh blood on it.
“Well, damn. No wonder I'm feeling so dizzy...” he thought to himself, and briefly wondering if he could do something about it, only to notice that there wasn't anything there he could use as a bandage. “I could have healed a wound like this in the blink of an eye, at one point.” he thought, and also realized “Hell, back then, I wouldn't have even been injured that easily.”
He shook the thoughts from his mind, and continued to walk with the fillies at his sides. Right now, his top priority was to get them out of this forest. After that, he could bleed out until he died again, for all that he cared. Although, he would probably pass out first, due to the concussion.
“Why did you want this 'Zecora' to teach you her language?” he asked out of curiosity after few moments, trying to distract himself (and them) from this whole situation. “Seems unnecessary for kids your age to try and learn a second language.”
“We thought that maybe our special talent would turn out to be language learning, or something.” explained the one with a horn, as her head was hanging down
“Yea, we could get a 'language learning' cutie mark!” proclaimed the one pony with a pink bowtie on her head, as she agreed with her friend that had a horn.
“What’s a 'cutie mark'?”
He already knew that he had said something weird the moment he finished that sentence. All three fillies had turned their heads towards him simultaneously, and were looking at him with wide-eyes and gaping jaws, and a shared expression of disbelief.
“Err, sir, are you jokin'...?”
“No, why?”
“HOW CAN ANYPONY NOT KNOW WHAT A CUTIE MARK IS!?!?” the three fillies all shouted in painfully loud unison.
“First off, not so loud,” he said, massaging his aching head (the shouting wasn't helping that, either), “and second...”
“Look girls, he has a blank flank!” exclaimed the one with wings that had crept closer to him.
“Does she mean that I'm naked...?” he wondered briefly, just realizing that only now.
“What!? How can a pony be this old and not have a cutie mark!?!”
“Oh my stars, does this mean we could be blank flanks...forever!?!”
“Hey, is that a road?” he started, briefly regretting that he was trying to distract them, only to suddenly notice that he actually was pointing at a road of sorts.
“Huh, would you look at that...”
“You're right, mister. That’s the main path of the forest... oh! I can see the entrance from here!”
“We're saved!”
“Good.” he replied wearily, feeling even dizzier from all of their shouting earlier. “Do the three of you think you could...”
“Apple Bloom!!!” some voice from ahead exclaimed, both relieved, overjoyed, and upset.
“Uh oh...” the one with the bow quietly whimpered.
“Seems like someone is in a bit of trouble.” he guessed, amused. While the filly was probably uncomfortable that somebody had found them, he for one, was relieved; for some time now, he was keeping himself conscious and standing with only sheer willpower. Now, he could finally let go, and collapse…
*Thump*
The darkness… closed around him… once more...
So, can anyone guess who the main hero is?
I doubt Arthas can become evil again. The Lich King was basically one sole prescence, which held itself together by using The Helm of Dominion and Froustmourne. Considering Frostmourne was shattered and The helm is now amongst Bolvar's head, I can't really see any reason he would become corrupted again. But perhaps, those items managed to find their way to Equestria as well? If so, Without the helm in Bolvar's possesion, Azeroth is in for some deep shit. I've yet to read the story but Rest assured, I will
And if I had to guess that protagonist, hmm....Tirion, Perhaps? Unless Arthas is both the antagonist and protagonist. A bit of Man Vs. Himself would be interesting.
“So we are ponies, then? Damn it, I liked it better when I was a horse!”
Is that a Team Four Star reference I smell?
Has one of the many mage's of The Great Forsaken Army, I share a small hatred for the Lich King but, Cool story bro
I would advise either reading through the story again or getting someone to find the spelling errors that while not too frequent are nevertheless there. Examples are: Flying where you put Flaying, Prey where you put Pray and Do instead of Does. Otherwise, you're doing quite well.
I'm disliking for the mass amount of bad grammer
such as
“Did someone brought me back?”- it should be bring not brought
here wasn't anyone that would want him back. “Not even her.” he though- it should be thought
“Did somebody turned me into one of those mongrels when I wasn't looking?!”- it should be turn not turned
Frustrated, he rose once again, but this time he concentrated. He closed his eyes and tried to remembered how his dear steed moved, how he run, how jumped...- should be ran not run
you make errors like these frequently, in fact you do it to a point that it takes the enjoyment out of reading your story. it's a pity since the concept you thought of is quite interesting, might I suggest you get an editor to look over your work.....
Hopefully he won't run into my character while in Equestria. That would be awkward since she's a paladin that took part in his downfall.
Alright... terrible joke.
Get a prereader.
Pokemon reference?
An evil Time Lord? I reread it and thought it said he had two hearts, guess not.
Hmmm... Interesting. You misspelled "hind" as "hint" several times.
Overall... I'm unsure what to think. On one hand, Arthas was truly evil; his descent into becoming the Lich King started long before he even touched Frostmourne... On the other hand, I do love redemption stories, and he WAS a noble paladin once.
I'll read a bit more of this.
Spellcheck. use it.
I like the premise, that much I'll say is good. That being said, there are a myriad of problems with this story, and I don't mean just with the grammar and tense issues. As far as I can tell, you've gotten Arthas' personality completely wrong. The Lich King was harsh, unforgiving, shrouded in mystery and lore to the point where it was often difficult to tell where the legend ended and the man began. Arthas here is more of a joking teenager, completely at odds with his personality towards not only his corruption but also his fall.
Arthas has always been one of my favorite characters, and villains, of Warcraft. I am going to enjoy the hell out of reading this.
1400022 im guessing
twentypercentcooler.net/data/sample/c0/0f/c00f750732769d982447b439d42c3ce8.jpg?1313055216
am i right? :)
1544903 YYYOOOOUUUUU AGAIN GOD DAMIT
1405551 Why would you spend that much time checking out Warcraft Lore?
1405551 He ordered the purge of Stratholme. I mean, to be perfectly honest I agreed with his measures. They were desperate to be sure, but the plague is something that basically requires extreme measures to stop... getting sidetracked though.
Basically, he could become evil if that's what he felt was necessary.
images.wikia.com/wow/images/b/bf/Arthas_Stratholme_by_Tooth.jpg
1400022 Just discovered this fanfic. Thanks to you for representing my favorite fictional hero and antihero in a fanfiction.
All hail the one true king
“What am? Who am?”
But that didn't happened
when he heard three screams"
he tucked his hint legs
Shriek that the wolf uttered was loud enough scare everything in this forest
1. Missing your I's at the ends of each.
2. Happen.
3. Extra closing quotation mark. Which was supposed to be a full stop.
4. Never heard of hint legs so I'm assuming it's hind legs.
5. The shriek that the wolf uttered was loud enough to scare everything in this forest.
It only took me two hundred years to begin reading, this... will be satisfying.
?
Rereading :D
I noped right the fuck out.
Sorry, but I hate it when authors transform humans 'cause then there's almost no point in having them be humans in the first place.
In my opinion, the interactions, first contact etc. are much better with humans as characters. But even when an anuthor does stick by that brown tag they placed upon their story, rarely do they do much from there. Humans in so many a fiction are severely limited. Say, what if one were to learn magic from Twilight, or not end up in ponyville at all and live among the griffons or the minotaurs (or some other species). What about the fact that they are, supposedly the only intelligent omnivores around. Us humans, having the capacity for such violence, being predators, but knowing how the prey think. A truly terrifying thought, immediate reverence and fear for our species. That brings up another point, why do so few authors make humans from another world. Why not set them in the MLP universe as these eldritch beings of great destruction and shroud them in mystery? That would make a good story I think, and then have one of the characters, like Twilight, run into one of these creatures of legend?
Okay, okay, no more ranting.
Good luck with your story Borsuq, and keep it real!
I'm not to fond of the whole 'he was turned into a pony' thing but I'll give this a shot.
1514310 Oh my, that's rich. The one complaining about spelling errors goes and spells grammar wrong .
Truly irony is the most refined form of comedy.
Bad grammar... But interesting story...going to ignore...going to... FUCK YOU SLEEP! I'M READING ALL NIGHT LONG! YEAH!!!
1400022
I know it's a VERY LONG FUCKING TIME to answer this but I want to answer it my way (based on my 1st reaction to this fic):
"Citizens of the Kirin Tor, I am Arthas, First of the Lich King's Death Knights! I demand that you surrender yourself to the might of the Scourge!"
I'v seen this story many times in the past. i think it i need to read this now.
1 chapter down, 121 to go.
...
Sleep is for the weak.
4194229 I agree with you.
4194229 sleep is not for the week
But it is not needed for the strong
Arthas doesn't think nor speak like this. He isn't from the modern world.
4453963 he is also not a talking pony
And also this is the internet no logic exists here
feel*
what a cutie mark is*
1. Took him long enough to notice it
2. Is this ponification temporary or permanent?
4982998 Dude, it's a rebirth....this is my second time reading this story btw....
I'm reading this for the third time now... it's still awesome...
first time reading this and I am amazed at how you turned a cliche into a well developed first chapter.
I only just started to read this and am already impressed that you paid attention to and referenced his background, specifically, Jiana. can't remember if that is spelled properly or not. oh well
I thought they used Ashbringer to kill Arthas. I never heard of Shadowmourne.
6002488 shadowmourn was a legendary weapon in wrath and lore wise frostmourns sister blade
Interesting intro, also didn't expect him to be a blank-flank is it some kind of sign of him getting a blank-slate so to speak?
Good work.
Poor Arthas. Lorderan compared to Equestria is quite normal boring and logical.......... somwhere it certainly is.
Ah, I remember Arthas. I never really went far with his story in the games. I'd always get up to the part where he first turns into a Lich, then stop. Can't remember why.
But yeah, so pretty much all I know about Arthas is that He was originally a Prince wielding a Hammer under the tutelage of a bearded man whose name escapes me. He Wielded Light abilities. However, while fighting the Undead Scourge, Arthas became obsessed. He eventually came across Frostmourne, which promised him power. He then proceeded to kill his friend, who had helped him, and his mentor. He then peasants that were infected with a plague that would turn them into undead, against the wishes of his remaining friends. Arthas awoke later in the story, corrupted by the cursed blade Frostmourne, turned into a Lich. His Light abilities corrupted; turning them into powers of death and decay. That's the summary of everything I know about him from the game. At least, as far as I've played.
Please correct me if I got anything wrong. I'd like to know his backstory.
I don't think this would give someone from a world filled with physics-defying monsters pause. Seriously, look at those water and air elementals.
7507869 actually he became obsessed with trying to save his kingdom and people
Either replace the period with a comma, or replace the second sentence with "However, this struggle ended up without result." The first idea I said sounds better then the second one, and while the second one sounds awkward and a bit like what a pompous prick like me would say, it's not a sentence fragment.
Huh. Cliche. I mean why does there always happen to be a mirror or pond? Good writing though, especially for a second language.