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Arthas Menethil
Placeholder person
Played by Kat
Fandom

Warcraft

Age

23

Race

Human (mostly)

Gender

Male

Status

Active

Skills[]

Arthas is a skilled swordsman, plain and simple. He has been wielding a sword the majority of his life, and even long before he was strong enough to lift true steel, he trained with wooden swords he and Varian would shape from sticks. These swords never did last long. More often than not because the pair of them would misplace them, and subsequently spend longer than they ought to trying to find them again, or tell them apart from countless other sticks scattered upon the forest floor.

As a paladin, Arthas has the ability to heal, and wield light to his will. Though he never truly was good at healing; his abilities therein are depleted, now more than ever, and when he does heal, it drains him, physically. Leaving him taxed, fatigued, and exhausted. He uses this ability only when truly necessary.

What remains of his power is the light’s will. Even presently, his powers are… fading. Something is preventing him from truly being strong enough to use the light - little does he know, Frostmourne’s corrupting influence has the light slowly abandoning him. Leaving him, as unworthy as he is slowly becoming. Arthas does not yet understand, and clings to the remnants of his light with all that he has.

But with Frostmourne comes a… more confusing power. Arthas hears voices, specifically, one voice. One destructive voice, whispering to him, constantly. Commanding him, calling him back to the glowing blade he’s trying to forget (for what does he need it for in this world?) yet he cannot shake it. These thoughts are slowly consuming him, but he refuses to back down. He fights, he shakes, he loses strength with his mental battles, trying to remember himself in the face of this unknown force...

Not yet known to Arthas is an intangible yet omnipresent bond he shares with the ancient frost dragon, Sindragosa. He raised her from the icy depths of Northrend in her world, something he himself is not yet aware of. Yet her voice is audible to him in mind only, he can speak back to her - but he does not yet know how this bond was formed.

Personality[]

Arthas is still very naive in plenty of ways. He’s still young, and thinks himself much, much more mature than he truly is. He’s very headstrong, thoughtless, careless and quite arrogant. He is ignorant, irresponsible, and impulsive. He does not think things through properly before he acts or speaks.

For all this, Arthas is very brave. Brave, almost, to the point of stupidity. He is very much a man of action. He’s direct and straightforward, incredibly to the point. He makes a good leader, as would any to-be king - it was always expected of him. He would observe his father, and he would learn. Arthas is very loyal, and holds true to his words. He does not take well to those who betray his trust, and remains unable to stand the thought of a potential betrayal from someone with whom he trusts.

Arthas is intelligent. He’s strategic and very, very good with his sword. He knows the art of warfare inside and out, having grown up watching battles his whole life - yet this is the only problem solving mechanism he has ever learned. To him, quills and parchment do not win wars, action does.

Even if he might be prince, he's easy-going, remarkably approachable and easy to talk to. He has a good sense of humor and a charming smile to match. As the excellent fighter that Arthas is, he is never afraid of competition - though he does not do well with losing, he prefers, very much, to come out on top, and he has an odd tendency to lose control - often going too far when sparring, almost to the point of truly harming his opponent. He is vindictive, and temperamental. His anger is indeed a force to be reckoned with.

Arthas constantly sought approval, most predominantly, from his father. When this approval was not always given, he was left to feel under-appreciated. Regardless of this, he remains an inspiring leader, able to make others accept him, whilst remaining as witty and wild as he always has been.

Today though, Arthas is… conflicted. He flickers between being the man he knows, to one he barely recognizes. His own mind is becoming distant, fluttering between being something he knows is familiar to something he barely understands. Dark thoughts invade him when he does not wish for them, and too often does he find himself staring at the inscribed runes on his Frostmourne. Not since setting it down when the apartment had become his own, has he ever picked it up again…

Truthfully; Arthas is a man confused. He no longer knows or trusts himself, he has become consumed with Frostmourne, he hears the blade speak to him, and only he hears it… no matter how hard he tries to shake these confusing and isolating thoughts, they continue to plague him.

Appearance[]

Arthas is of a solid build, years of training and wielding heavy swords and lugging about heavy iron armour have built him up to be an incredibly strong man with a defined, muscular frame that very much suits his occupation. He is not terribly tall, standing at a modest five feet and nine inches, just shy of being as tall as his mentor, Uther.

In face, Arthas is still quite boyish. He is a little babyfaced, still with child-like cheeks, and a patchy beard that has yet to properly cover his chin - he barely needs to shave. His eyes are a stunning cornflower blue, and often the first thing one notices about him. His skin is sun-kissed olive and his hair is a sunny, vibrant gold. Since coming to Pandora, he has cut it to a more manageable length, longer than it ought to be, but it no longer brushes past his shoulders.

Arthas’ features manage to be both soft and hardened simultaneously. A scar over the bridge of his nose harshens it remarkably, a cut gained from a sparring session taken a step too far (his fault, entirely). His lips are soft, a shade pinker than they ought to be, and already he has shadows under his eyes.

Mostly, Arthas keeps himself covered up. Without his familiar armour, he keeps himself dressed simple, yet accommodating. Faded jeans, a shirt and a jacket are his staple items of dress. He keeps Frostmorne at home, too afraid to take it out of the house, lest it unleash more destruction.

Relationships[]

History[]

Arthas is still very naive in plenty of ways. He’s still young, and thinks himself much, much more mature than he truly is. He’s very headstrong, thoughtless, careless and quite arrogant. He is ignorant, irresponsible, and impulsive. He does not think things through properly before he acts or speaks.

For all this, Arthas is very brave. Brave, almost, to the point of stupidity. He is very much a man of action. He’s direct and straightforward, incredibly to the point. He makes a good leader, as would any to-be king - it was always expected of him. He would observe his father, and he would learn. Arthas is very loyal, and holds true to his words. He does not take well to those who betray his trust, and remains unable to stand the thought of a potential betrayal from someone with whom he trusts.

Arthas is intelligent. He’s strategic and very, very good with his sword. He knows the art of warfare inside and out, having grown up watching battles his whole life - yet this is the only problem solving mechanism he has ever learned. To him, quills and parchment do not win wars, action does.

Even if he might be prince, he's easy-going, remarkably approachable and easy to talk to. He has a good sense of humor and a charming smile to match. As the excellent fighter that Arthas is, he is never afraid of competition - though he does not do well with losing, he prefers, very much, to come out on top, and he has an odd tendency to lose control - often going too far when sparring, almost to the point of truly harming his opponent. He is vindictive, and temperamental. His anger is indeed a force to be reckoned with.

Arthas constantly sought approval, most predominantly, from his father. When this approval was not always given, he was left to feel under-appreciated. Regardless of this, he remains an inspiring leader, able to make others accept him, whilst remaining as witty and wild as he always has been.

Today though, Arthas is… conflicted. He flickers between being the man he knows, to one he barely recognizes. His own mind is becoming distant, fluttering between being something he knows is familiar to something he barely understands. Dark thoughts invade him when he does not wish for them, and too often does he find himself staring at the inscribed runes on his Frostmourne. Not since setting it down when the apartment had become his own, has he ever picked it up again…

Truthfully; Arthas is a man confused. He no longer knows or trusts himself, he has become consumed with Frostmourne, he hears the blade speak to him, and only he hears it… no matter how hard he tries to shake these confusing and isolating thoughts, they continue to plague him. APPEARANCEArthas is of a solid build, years of training and wielding heavy swords and lugging about heavy iron armour have built him up to be an incredibly strong man with a defined, muscular frame that very much suits his occupation. He is not terribly tall, standing at a modest five feet and nine inches, just shy of being as tall as his mentour, Uther.

In face, Arthas is still quite boyish. He is a little babyfaced, still with child-like cheeks, and a patchy beard that has yet to properly cover his chin - he barely needs to shave. His eyes are a stunning cornflower blue, and often the first thing one notices about him. His skin is sun-kissed olive and his hair is a sunny, vibrant gold. Since coming to Pandora, he has cut it to a more manageable length, longer than it ought to be, but it no longer brushes past his shoulders.

Arthas’ features manage to be both soft and hardened simultaneously. A scar over the bridge of his nose harshens it remarkably, a cut gained from a sparring session taken a step too far (his fault, entirely). His lips are soft, a shade pinker than they ought to be, and already he has shadows under his eyes.

Mostly, Arthas keeps himself covered up. Without his familiar armour, he keeps himself dressed simple, yet accommodating. Faded jeans, a shirt and a jacket are his staple items of dress. He keeps Frostmorne at home, too afraid to take it out of the house, lest it unleash more destruction. HISTORYArthas Menethil was born to King Terenas Menethil II, he was a crown prince by birth, and always knew that some day, he would be King. His birth came four years before the start of the First War, his earliest years were the most peaceful ones he would ever know. His childhood was full of laughter, of play fights with wooden swords, and a best friend called Varian Wrynn.

Though, after the war began, the lands of Azeroth were ravaged. The Alliance was on the brink of crumbling, coming apart at the seams, and even as a boy - Arthas knew something was terribly wrong. Dark clouds always loomed upon the horizon, but always, always - his father would remind him that the sun was shining, and that their light was still with them.

As he grew older, Arthas began to learn to fight. Tossing aside his wooden play swords and replacing them with steel - Arthas still remembers his first lesson, with Muradin Bronzebeard, brother to the dwarven king, Magni Bronzebeard, and under his instruction, Arthas became a remarkable swordsman. It was under the guidance of Uther that Arthas gained power - he was welcomed into the Knights of the Silver Hand when he was only nineteen. It was then, in Stormwind City during his ceremony that he was given his beloved, Holy mace, called Light’s Vengeance.

Much of Arthas’ early exploits were with forest trolls and outside menaces threatening their kingdom. It was during this time that Arthas met the youngest daughter of the Proudmoore family. A sorceress named Jaina. They grew close, first, as friends. Though before long, Arthas knew he felt more for her, their time together was short lived, there was always something more beneath the surface that the both of them felt, but refused to accept. Arthas would often question wether or not the two of them were truly ready to be together, and inevitably, he decided to end their romance, to allow Jaina to focus on her studies in Dalaran, whilst he focussed on his commitments to Lordaeron.

Darkness began to fall upon Lordaeron. A plague gripped the northlands, and chaos was slowly beginning to erupt, the orcs broke free of their prison camps, and raids broke out. Arthas and Uther were sent to Strahnbrad to defend the town from the orcs, and Arthas managed to defeat the Blackrock Clan’s blademaster, who had been leading the raids.

However, a darker threat soon loomed with the growth of the plague of undeath. As unpleasant as it proved to be, it rekindled Arthas with Jaina, and Captain Falric, together they fought an undead army at a plague-infested granary. It was there that Arthas first encountered the necromancer, Kel’Thuzad. They followed him to Andorhal. Though they stopped at Hearthglen Village where they hoped to rest, though instead, they were met with another army of the undead. Arthas’ forces could barely hold out, and he sent Jaina to find Uther to bring aid. 

It was here that Arthas discovered that the plague was not only a means of murder, but a means of turning innocent people into undead creatures. Thankfully, Uther’s arrival saved the last of Arthas’ forces, and saved what remained of the village. It was not too long later that Arthas arrived at Stratholme. He was too late, and the grain had already been distributed, he knew that the villagers would soon be undead zombies. He ordered Uther and his knights to purge the entire city, to kill the villagers before the plague took control.

Horrified, and rightfully so, Uther refused him. He told him he wouldn’t ever obey such a command, not even if Arthas had been king. Accusing him of treason, Arthas disbanded the Knights of the Silver Hand, and many soldiers left with Uther (including Jaina, who turned to him in the gloomy rain of that evening, if only to say I'm sorry Arthas, I can't watch you do this..), while those who remained loyal to Arthas, joined him in slaughtering the corrupted townsfolk.

With blood painting his skin, staining every inch of him until even his tears ran red, Arthas killed citizen after citizen, beginning what would later be called the Culling of Stratholme, listening to the echoes of screams as his soldiers obeyed his command around him - at his hand, the city was painted red. He met Mal’Ganis himself, who was claiming the souls of the citizens, and Arthas ordered his men to work quickly to kill the townsfolk before Mal’Ganis could reach them. Finally, when it became too much, Arthas demanded a confrontation with the dreadlord, although Mal’Ganis slipped away, promising to meet Arthas in Northrend.

Arthas, with his heart filled with vengeance, followed Mal’Ganis with a detachment of his troops to Northrend. They arrived on the icy island a month later, and as they searched for a safe place to rest, Arthas came upon Muradin Bronzebeard, his former friend and teacher with a small band of dwarves - he had been exploring the uncharted island. It was Muradin whom informed Arthas of Frostmourne’s existence, and Arthas told the dwarf of Mal’Ganis’ evil deeds.

The two went in search of Frostmourne, Arthas merely believed the sword to be an asset in his looming battle against Mal’Ganis, their search failed many times, and one evening upon returning to their camp, Arthas saw his men trudging back to their boats, wanting to sail home. To Muradin’s disgust, Arthas destroyed their ships, and told them they had no means of returning home, unless it was through victory.

Eventually, Arthas, Muradin and several of their men traveled to the vicinity of the legendary runeblade, deep within a ghostly cavern. Indeed, there it was. Glowing and wicked, half-buried in the snow, forgotten and lost; until now. Arthas could feel the whispering of power, and hear how it called to him, a thousand and one hushed voices that he never heard, but always remembered, he lost himself; and began towards it.

The Guardian appeared to them, and tried to stop Arthas from retrieving Frostmourne, ‘for your own protection’ it proclaimed, but soon - it fell. Leaving nothing between Arthas and the fabled, glowing blade. Muradin saw the inscription Arthas missed, which told that the blade was cursed, and he pleaded with Arthas ‘Oh, leave it be, Arthas! Forget this business and lead your men home!’, but Arthas was incorrigible. The sword was calling him.

Speaking to the spirits of the cavern, Arthas asked it to release the sword from its icy prison, promising that he would ‘give anything or pay any price, if only you will let me save my people.’ and when the weapon broke free, a rogue shard of ice struck Muradin, knocking him back. Arthas went to his aid, but the seductive call of Frostmourne took him first. Discarding the warhammer that had done him so well, Arthas drew Frostmourne into his hands, and felt the surge of power it gave him, licking at him, burning through his veins, a smile had twisted over his lips; for now, vengance was his.

The last thing Arthas saw, the last thing he heard, was Muradin’s twisted cries as the snow around him turned pink with his blood, black tendrils curled loosely from the ice, and closed around Arthas’ limbs, tugging him, pulling him, no matter how hard he struggled, until he was blinking back to himself in Pandora, Frostmorne… still in his hand.


Pandora History[]

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