Far Seer

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Undead Follies Chapter 5

Story by Koss_Knights.

Authors Note: Instead of the Night elf vs Undead hero battle, I decided to increase the length of my spoof of: Arthas's Betrayal, which is the last cinematic for the RoC human missions. Enjoy! By the way, anyone ever carefully watch that cinematic? The amount of detail Blizzard put in it is AMAZING!

The provinces of Lordaeron all begin to rejoice, as their mighty champion, Arthas, strides into the inner sanctums of the capital castle to reunite with his father. The very being of Lordaeron seems to bow before the majesty of their prince, for he had just recently slain an evil Dreadlord…despite taking Uther and his paladin order out of duty, purging the entire city of Andorhal, destroying many civilian buildings, killing the mercenaries that he hired to destroy the ships his men were supposed to retreat in, disobeying a direct order from the Kings emissary and subsequently releasing the unholy power of Frostmourne and letting it kill his mentor, Muradin. Well, at least the propaganda still works, eh? As Arthas enters the beautifically crafted outdoor inner hallway, which leads to the old brazen door that opens up into the throne room of the King, the people begin throwing rose petals at their savior, as a sign of good-will and happiness. The tower bells ring deeply in Arthas’s wake, and as they ring, you can almost feel the excitement and jubilation all of Lordaeron must be experiencing. The scene above is amazing, as throngs of cheering people roar and cry at the sight of Arthas.

Arthas: …roses? I remember giving them to Jaina…she used to love them so much…

Necromancer: Yeah, roses are romantic…I remember giving them to my first raised corpse…it looked so beautiful, with its loosely attached skin, and its tiny tufts of hair…and it’s empty eye sockets. That was the day I became a Necromancer…

Arthas: You sure know how to kill a moment, don’t you?

Necromancer 2: Incoming!

All three look up at the crowd above, which continue to shower them with millions of rose petals, and to their horror, an anvil starts streaking toward them!

Arthas: Ah! What’s wrong with these people!

Necromancer: Someone must’ve ran out of petals…

Necromancer 2: Damn blacksmiths. Incoming! It’s a sword this time!

Lich King, using telepathy: Arthas! Just continue to move toward the door! As long as I am here to guide you and frostmourne, no harm will come to you! My powers are nearly limitless and—

The Lich Kings message is cut short, for a particularly large anvil falls on top of Arthas…

Lich King, using telepathy: …never mind.

Arthas, dazed: I’d like the green skeleton steed, daddy! With the pretty bells and whistles! Oh, and a high speed Internet connection in the rear…? Ugh.

Necromancer 2: Arthas can’t die! We must protect him with our lives, if need be! Another hit could kill him!

Both Necromancers looks at each other for a moment.

Necromancer: Look, we agreed to escort him, but I’m not taking an anvil for him. If he dies, we can pretend we were up there in town, eating gyros or something.

Necromancer 2: Arthas, who?

Necromancer: Exactly.

Arthas: Ugh. Damn, that anvil nearly killed me! It’s a good thing I had my hood on, or my skull would’ve fractured even more!

Necromancer: I don’t like this year’s military fashion. I mean, come on! Knights wear little golden crowns on their heads and death knights wear hoods.

Necromancer 2: I heard the fall line will have some helmets…for us! And the Liches will be forced to grow another horn to keep in style! Hahaha, got to love it!

Before their conversation is finished, Arthas makes it to the front door. He rests a while, for he is safely under a stone roof, which overlooks the door, and the back of the hallway…but the roof crumbles as a heavy shield hits it…

Meanwhile, up in the streets above the hallway, the crowd begins to disperse, their celebration done, since Arthas has made it to the front door, and would probably want to have a private moment with his father.

Townsperson: What were we celebrating again?

Townsperson 2: I think we’re celebrating a Friday?

Townsperson 3: Well, the royal guards supplied us all with rose petals, so it must’ve been something important.

Townsperson: Come on! Let’s go to the pub and dance!

Royal Guard: Hold it! You’re not going anywhere until I say the celebration is over!

Townsperson: …then can we dance here? I’ve got a flute.

Royal Guard: Sure, why not? But, if you don’t put that flute away and look back toward the hallway…you’ll be dancing to the beat of: My foot and your ass! Now get back to celebrating, peasant!

Townsperson: Wait a minute! That official seal on your armor! That’s just a poorly drawn version of it using Magic Marker! He’s an imposter! Get him!

Royal Guard: Crap, I knew buying a discount uniform would bring me trouble! Put me down! I’m the captain of the garrison for god’s sake!

Royal Guard 2: Should we help the captain?

Royal Guard 3: Uh, no. We had to put up with the bastard for 5 weeks in basic training.

Royal Guard 2: But he’s being ripped apart by the angry mob!

Royal Guard 3: What angry mob? I don’t see anything…don’t ask, don’t tell. (Starts whistling.) Come on; let’s go “look” for the “captain”. We haven’t seen him recently. Wink!

Royal Guard 2: Yeah…I got you…I think he might be hanging out at the pub. Wink!

Royal Guard: Oh dear lord, no! Not the face, not the face! Agh!

Meanwhile, at the tip of the door, the Necromancer escorts help Arthas dig himself out of the pile of rock and rubble he’s buried under.

Necromancer: Go, Arthas, go! You can do it!

Necromancer 2: Arthas is the man! Rah, rah, rah, hiss boom bah! Goooooooo, Arthas!

Arthas, muffled: It would help if you idiots helped actually move the rocks from my body, instead of cheering me on!

Frostmourne: Arthas, you know I like to be clean! Quick, get me out of this rubble!

Lich King, using telepathy: Arthas! Quick! Come to Northrend, I have a pickaxe waiting for you! It’ll help you free yourself!

Arthas (talking to Lich King): That’s got to be the lamest excuse to get me to free you yet.

Necromancer: Yay! Go, Arthas!

Necromancer: Whoo, Arthas!

Frostmourne: Arthas, quickly!

Lich King (using telepathy): Arthas come on! It’ll just be a quick little treacherous, death-defying journey! Please? Arthas?

Guard: Arthas? Need some help Arthas?


Arthas Fan: Damn, there goes getting my autograph.

Uther: Yeah, I wanted one too!

Arthas Fan: …Uther? Uther Lightbringer?

Uther: …Uh, you never saw me here. Holy Light!

Arthas Fan: Ahh! I’m blind! …Wait a minute! Uther the Lightbringer blinded me! Sigh, I’ll never wash my eyes again! Wait till I tell my friends! …As soon as I find them…

Uther: The blindness is only temporary. Gotta go! Up, up and away!

Uther waits and waits, but nothing happens…

Uther: Damn, I may be legendary but I still can’t fly. Time for Plan B. Alley-oop!

Uther jumps on a vine and starts climbing the wall, toward the upper city to get away from the scene.

Uther: Alley-oop—oh, dear heavens no! Gah!

Uther does one alley-oop too many and manages to over-jump the narrow street…and ends up landing on a fence. Ouch.

Uther: Screw serving all believers, I need a hospital…ooo, I’m going to feel that one tomorrow…

And back at the hallway, near the crumbled remains of a roof, Arthas finally manages to free himself.

Necromancer: About time you got out, you slow bastard!

Arthas: Watch your tongue necromancer! Or you’ll regret it!

Necromancer: You and what army? I can raise the dead!

Arthas: So can I, you idiot! I’m a death knight now, not a paladin!

Necromancer: (Snaps fingers.) Shoot, and I thought I had you for a moment.

Guard: …ahem. I’m still here… Arthas…you’re evil now? How could you do that? Why did you turn from the light?

Arthas: Well what would you do if your sword kept talking to you, a desperate undead Lich King wants you to free him, and while journeying back to Lordaeron you met an unfathomably annoying Tauren Chieftain, who keeps saying, “Are we there yet?” , even though I have no idea where we are, or where we’re going! Ahh!

Guard: Whoa. Ok, just chill out.

Just then, a cell phone rings, and for a moment, everyone is spooked by the noise, since the celebration has ended and no one has made a sound save for them.

Necromancer: Whose cell phone is that?

Necromancer: Not mine.

Guard: No, not mine either. It must be yours…uh, prince.

Necromancer: Nice save. You didn’t say his name…so he won’t kill you! But I will!

Guard: You have a wooden staff and I, a steel lance and a metal shield.

Necromancer: (Snaps fingers.) Damn.

Arthas: Sigh, that infernal ringing won’t stop. I better answer it.

Arthas flips his phone top up, and presses it to his ear, and to his revolting horror…

Lich King: Hey Arthas! I heard that guard say, “Chill out” and since I got a new cell phone I figured I’d call you. Ha, “chill out” , and I’m in the Frozen Throne and I call you…and…well, you get it?

Arthas: No, that’s not funny. And how the hell did you get my number anyway? Telepathy again?

Lich King: Oh, I have my methods. (Kicks the Yellow Book behind his throne.)

Arthas: Look, I’m sort of busy right now. I need to kill my father and all, you know how it is.

Lich King: Alright, but before you go… Listen, there’s going to be a party at my palace tonight, want to come? Jaina’s going to be there…

Arthas: Nice try…but me freeing you, won’t happen. Oh, and NEVER CALL ME AGAIN! (Click.)

Lich King: I drive him insane and force him to kill everyone who he’s ever loved and this is how he repays me.

Dreadlord Police: You again?! I thought we sealed that door! Get back in you little sneak!

Lich King: You’ll never catch—oh, you’re that fast, huh? Damn.

Dreadlord Police: Don’t you ever learn?

Meanwhile, back at the front door to the Castle…

Guard: You’re going to kill your father! How could you even consider that?

Arthas: You begin to annoy me. Necromancer! Kill him!

The Necromancers look menacingly at the lone guard, and launch an attack against him! Alas, the guard easily dodges their almost lethargic attack, and slices both of their wooden staffs in half with a quick, masterful slice of his lance.

Necromancer: Damn, and the warranty on this thing wore off just yesterday.

Arthas: Sigh, I have to do everything myself! Yahh—huh?

Arthas’s sword stops in mid slice and proclaims:

Frostmourne: I don’t want to get all bloody. Use a Death Coil or something. You can stab your father, but not that icky guard.

Arthas: Great, I’ve been granted a sword that discriminates against targets…sigh. Death Coil !

With that incantation, the guard slumps to the ground, being killed even before he hits the cold, damp stone floor.

Arthas: Finally. Now it’s time to open the door and “greet” my father.

With that said, Arthas moves up to the heavy, intricately crafted door, and slams it open.

Door Guard: …Ouch. I knew I shouldn’t have stood so close…I think I’ll just limp away, before I faint in the Kings presence…oof.

King Terenas: Ah, my son! (Farts).

Arthas: What the hell?

King Terenas: Sorry, but you know how this middle-age food works on an old mans stomach. I have a bad case of diarrhea.

Arthas walks to the middle of the circular room, while the necromancers wait in the back, trying to look as imposing as possible with their broken staffs.

King Terenas: There is no need to bow down to me, my son.

Arthas: I can’t help it. I think I broke both my legs when that roof fell on me.

A moment of silence, then Arthas begins his speech.

Arthas: You no longer need to sacrifice for your people

King Terenas farts.

Arthas: You no longer need to bear the weight of your crown.

King Terenas farts again.

Arthas: I’ve taken care of everything.

King Terenas: Did you buy the milk? I told you to buy milk, remember? (Farts.) O, that was a wet one. Mm, mighty uncomfortable sitting now. Arthas? What is this, my son?

Arthas’s patience snaps and he quickly moves up to his fathers throne. He bends down to meet him eye to eye and…

Arthas: Here. Take this air freshener. You need it badly.

Arthas turns around, ready to leave, but he catches sight of one of the Necromancers who goes: “psst” and moves his finger across his throat.

Arthas: Oh, right. I almost forgot.

Arthas turns around and stabs his father with the might of Frostmourne.

King Terenas: Gasp! Ugh…(Fart.) Why, why did you do this?

Arthas: I’m succeeding you, father! Now, from the ashes of Lordaeron shall arise a new world ord—damn it, what the hell?

Necromancer: What’s wrong?

Arthas: My sword is stuck in his rib cage…I can’t pull it out. Help me you bumbling morons.

The 2 necromancers start pulling with all their might and so begins a tug of war against Arthas and the corpse of his freshly slain father.

Arthas: Groan! It won’t budge! Guards, help us out here!

Guard: Aye, milord. Come on everyone! Put some muscle into it!

Guard 2: Somehow this doesn’t feel right. Groan! Why are we helping Arthas take his sword out of his fathers corpse?

And so, Arthas begins a terrible battle against the corpse of Lordaerons beloved and former king. Pull as they might, they struggle on for hours, until despite the reluctance of Frostmourne, the sword is smeared with butter. It finally gives way… The bells above them strike 12, and now Arthas stands triumphant on top of the throne. Everyone looks in shock to see their champion slay their king, but when the surprise gives way to mourning and sorrow, that’s when the anger shows up, and manifests itself on everyone in the throne room. And what ever happened to those brave night elf heroes, and the malicious undead fiends? Find out next time, when chapter 6 comes!

Guard: How could you kill your father Arthas?

Necromancer: Yeah, how could you do that?

Arthas: Hey, you’re on my side!

Necromancer: In case you haven’t noticed, you just sliced your fathers gut in front of about 30 highly trained elite guards…so we’ll be cheering you on in the back.

Necromancer 2: Rah, rah, rah! Sis Boom bah!

Just then, Arthas’s cell phone rings…


(Parts of Arthas’s speech taken from the cinematic: Arthas’s Betrayal.)