At this moment, the Lich King pipes up. For those who haven't heard him, he's got the basic deep reverb voice that you expect from bad guys. It begs to be WRITTEN IN ALL CAPS AND BOLDED. It's kind of like Vader's. Only with more reverb. You know the drill.
But his phrasing is just slightly unfortunate.
COWER BEFORE MY TERRIBLE CREATIONS.
And as the high-speed dubiously-animated half-collapsing zombie powerwalks up the mountain slope, my brain cannot help but to start adding followup lines.
THEY'RE ABSOLUTELY AWFUL, I DON'T KNOW WHY I BUILT THEM.
LOOK, THIS ONE ONLY HAS ONE ARM. THIS ONE HAS THREE FEET!
OH, LOOK OVER HERE, HIS ORGANS ARE ON THE OUTSIDE. VERY USEFUL FOR AN ARMOR-PLATED KILLING MACHINE, REAL SMART THERE, I MUST HAVE BEEN DRUNK, I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER.
OH GOD, JUST KILL THEM ALL. I DON'T WANT TO LOOK AT THEM. GET THEM OUT OF MY SIGHT.
If you didn't find yourself lapsing into a Marvin the Paranoid Android accent midway through, I really don't know what to say.
Great. Now I'm expecting to finally reach Icecrown Citadel, advance on Arthas menacingly in the throne room, and have to listen to a fifteen-minute lecture on how incredibly bored he was waiting for us to show up. Do you know how long he's been here? And that throne, that doesn't just look like ice. It gets cold after the first decade. Really, you could have hurried it up, but I suppose I'm just not important to you. Just the long-lost prince who slayed his own father. Nobody interesting. Why not leave and come back later? Go slaughter some more bears. I hear that gnome down in K3 needs some bear asses, and, you know, I wouldn't want to keep you from your important duties.