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Published on Jan 1, 2012
The floating city's streets are empty now The heroes all have gone away Undead wander frozen fields below Unchecked by blade or bow A fiery dragon elsewhere now is holding sway Ebon, Argent and Ashen Forgotten cause unchampioned Their quest rewards tempt no one Into their employ The raiders charge his citadel For titles meaningless and vain Now you call yourself 'Kingslayer' But the lich king remains
The cataclysm almost over now A new disaster waits, some burning new crusade The banners of the tournament flap unseen in the lonesome breeze On some new testing ground, tomorrow's champions made The call goes out for members Some overpowered few To bask in borrowed glory In numbers disrespectfully few He falls beneath their epic blades Respawns, his frozen throne regains Now you call yourself 'Kingslayer' But the lich king remains...