Among those smiling was, of course, the Lich King Ner'zhul. Darkness rapidly spread throughout Lordaeron. The death knight Arthas sat quietly on the throne that had once belonged to his father, listening to the guards beside it wail.
A bleak voice rang out across the city.
"This kingdom will ultimately be destroyed!"
"And a new order will rise from its ruins!"
"It will shake the very foundations of this world-the boundary between life and death!"
As Arthas made his declaration, before the eyes of the unsuspecting populace, the magic circles throughout Lordaeron City suddenly activated on their own. In their wake, powerful undead rapidly flooded the entire city...
Lordaeron, an ancient city with a thousand years of history, had escaped the Orc attacks, but it had ultimately failed to escape its original fate.
In an instant, all its prosperity was destroyed. The once-bright sky turned cold, buried beneath dark clouds.
Bitter winds howled, and the air hung heavy with death.
Thick ice covered the gray-white city walls at a visible pace. The lively scenes of citizens cheering just moments earlier had vanished. Screams rose from every corner of the city, driving people into ever greater panic. As the undead slaughtered mercilessly, the cries grew more frequent.
"Ah... monsters! Why are there so many monsters?"
"The city guard! Where is the city guard?"
"Mom! Don't leave me... sob... someone, please save us!"
Chaos lay everywhere, yet not a single one of the soldiers who usually patrolled the city could be seen. They had been the first to die.
All of this was nothing more than a carefully planned conspiracy. An unseen hand in the darkness had arranged everything.
As the old king began to feel his body growing increasingly frail with age, he had gradually handed command of the kingdom's military