• Published 5th Sep 2015
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The Crystal Vizier - Lich-Lord Krosis



When the first Equestrian Lich King is in need of guidance, who better to help him than the second in command of the Azerothian Scourge? Follow Kel'Thuzad in his new unlife in the colorful world of Equus.

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A Situation

'What. Have. You. DONE?!'

Shining's mind raced a mile a minute, emotions he never even knew he had swirling through the his head.

Anger, hatred, CRUELTY.

A yearning lust for blood, a cry for more power. A HUNGER.

He had been fighting it. A part of him that had been within him since he put on that blasted helmet. Damn it. Damn it all to Tartarus. He knew that he shouldn't have. He knew he should have told Kel'Thuzad. But... something stopped him.

He liked to think of it as another side to him. A smarter side. One that didn't show itself often. More and more now, he felt it's presence. When Kel'Thuzad used his magics to... subdue his aunt/mother-in-law, his vision was... darkened. He saw nothing but stars, orbiting a sickening red light. A beacon of horror amongst a sea of space. A pool of blood amongst the comforting darkness.

'LIFE... SURROUNDED BY DEATH...'

Stop it! He was trying to think. More and more he had been experiencing things that he could not explain. A noise caught his attention, something... familiar. As if it had been with him from birth. It felt safe to be around. He welcomed it. But he hated it.

Something was begging to him. A pathetic voice at first, but it grew louder. Slowly, but ever so surely louder. It was replaced by a desperate, hungry voice, crying for power. Lusting for violence.

He was so tired. So... so... tired. He couldn't hold on anymore... He knew he needed to... but... he...

Darkness...

'HUNGER...'

.........


"KEL'THUZAD!"

Time slowed once more...

It had been nearly a millennia since he had last heard... him. His master...

Kel'Thuzad did not fear death. Never did. As a lich, he feared it even less than before...

Now, he felt fear. He felt the cold chill that permeated the room, outdoing even his own impressive magics. He felt the rumble of power surging from behind him.

Most of all, he felt pain.

"AGH!!" Kel'Thuzad cried, his torso swirling through the Royal Bedchambers like a ragdoll. He impacted the opposite wall with a sharp 'CRACK'. He collapsed, flat on his face with a groan, of pain or disbelief, no one was sure.

What the hell...

With another sickening slice, the saronite shards that Kel'Thuzad had used as a defensive perimeter released.

Upon him.

He cried in surprising agony as they shredded their way through his ribcage, and severed his left arm at the elbow. His mind fuzzy and his vision blurred, Kel'Thuzad reached up with his remaining hand.

"MASTER, STOP! FOR THEIR SAKE, NOT MINE!" the lich coughed as he attempted to levitate, the torn shreds of his robes ripping as his weight lifted itself off the floor. He didn't get far before another wave of force, this one far more powerful than the last, sent him back to his position. The impact separated several shattered ribs from his spine, the useless pieces of bone clattering to the floor beneath him.

Somewhere in the building blizzard, he saw... a flash. A blinding one. He grunted, straining his single working eye upon the source. The saronite shards that had turned upon him were now orbiting quickly around his master. Or what he thought was his master. He couldn't tell anymore. The lich strained, and rose.

"MASTER!" he bellowed, attempting to move his lopsided body towards his king.

If I could just... stop... him...

Something was tiring him.

.........

Now, before he had finally been defeated on Azeroth, he had the remaining cultists aboard the shattered remains of Naxxramas gather everything of importance, and slam it in his personal rune chest. They were ordered to hide it away.

Earlier on after Arthas' death, the lich had his followers gather anything and everything from Icecrown Citadel, and make a run for the mountains. His followers returned with several things of importance.

Lady Deathwhisper's Phylactery, along with several others, foolishly left intact by the crusaders.

A shard of the Frozen Throne, broken off when Arthas collapsed the platform.

Several unused bottles of plague, found on the ruined and bloated corpse of what they assumed was Professor Putricide.

Several Frost Wyrm Hatchlings, found cowering inside of the ribcage of their fallen mother, Sindragosa.

An untouched bloodwell, found surrounded by dead San'Layn.

The Shards of Frostmourne.

How the acolyte got them, he will never know. He overheard him boasting of how 'Easy it was to fool Paladins' and how 'Easily he had stolen them'. Whatever the reason, he had ordered the remnants of the runeblade thrown into the sea when they had commandeered the battered shell of Naxxanar, which was still left mostly untouched by encroaching Horde forces from the Borean Tundra.

He never liked getting things that he needed done by other people. This was probably one of those things he should have overseen himself.

He didn't.

He should have.

.........

Like a wildfire of blue, the room ignited with a sickly hue of it. The prince in question was currently levitating off the floor, the shattered remains of the runeblade shooting around him in deadly orbits, glowing white with cold. The lich cursed his stupidity. His blindness. His carelessness.

He had delivered the knife to the murderer. Freshly sharpened.

With a deafening crack, and a screech of pure necromantic energies, the prince...

Exploded.

"SHINY!"

Somewhere, the Princess of Love shrieked, her Royal Canterlot Voice echoing even over the deafening chorus of snow and ice, which still battered the room, forcing the occupants to hit the floor. The lich could feel his power waning, the injuries sustained by his magical body hemorrhaging energy like a faucet does water. With the last of his strength, he glimpsed the shards fly together, the unholy union of his nightmares coming to pass, regardless of his securities.

With a deafening crack, Frostmourne embedded itself into the ground before him, the runeblade as whole as the day the Burning Legion forged it...

I'm sorry, master... I failed...

Author's Note:

Anyone who doesn't know the original lore of Vanilla Naxxramas will miss the reference with how easy it was to get the blade back intro the WRONG hands...

Damn Paladins man...

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