#coram populo

Tyrthalion lay on his knees. The air was deathly cold and the wind pierced through to the bone. Snow fell from dark clouds high in the sky.

He was barely clothed. A mere linen shirt and pants was all he wore in this deathly weather. He looked down to the earth beneath him. The snow ran carmine red with blood from other bodies. Drops and splattered gore scattered about the white ice blanket that coated the land.

He shifted his arms, he could not move. He flexed harder but his writs would not move. They were bound, he could feel the cold iron shackles keeping them together. Suddenly he was thrust forward, his torso falling into the cold ground as his ear twitched. 

“On your feet you filthy Paladin.” said a Death Knight in a dark tone as he ripped Tyrthalion back up onto his knees.

Tyr did not speak, a shimmering object caught his eye. The golden ring he wore around his neck. The one that once belonged to his late wife, Sarianna. It glinted in the faint light. A single light in the darkness.

He lifted his gaze as a armoured hand came into view. The man was tall, the armour almost black. He wore a spiked helmet and his eyes radiated a azure aura. A azure aura. Tyr’s mind snapped back, it was the Lich King.

“What is this?” Arthas asked darkly as he gripped the ring in his large hand, breaking the chain from Tyr’s neck.

“An old trinket?” he pressed further as he turned the object over in his glove.

“Drop it! Give it back!” Tyr roared as loud as his lungs would reach. He squirmed and writhed in place trying to free himself but it was no use.

Arthas simply dropped the ring as he turned his dark gaze down upon the Paladin. The gold sinking into the blood spattered snow. 

Tyr lunged forward but the Death Knight to his side held him in place. But before he could move, Arthas had his hand on Tyr. He lifted his chin, taking his sight away from the ring so he could stare into his eyes.

“You wont need such things soon. Welcome to the Scourge, brother.” Arthas hissed in a dark tone as he plunged Frostmourne into the Paladins heart. The world started to turn black, all he could hear was the Lich King’s laughter heavy in his ears.

Tyr shot up into an upright position. He was breathing hard and cold sweat soaked his body. His heart pounded in his chest like the deepest war-drum. His sight cleared and he was back in his room in Fairbreeze. Faint shafts of light peaked through the window and radiated onto the wooden floor. He removed the blankets and swung his feet off the bed, slowly catching his breath and returning his heart rate to normal.

He looked over his shoulder, the woman he loved still lay asleep on her side of the bed. He sighed thankfully as he would not want to wake her because of his nightmares, as they were an often occurrence.

He stood and crossed over the the window, unlatching the panes and pressing them open. He leaned on the sill and exhaled heavily.