From the lands of the frozen south there is tale of a young prince.

His name was Ice, and he was a kind prince.

The kingdom he grew to know, was great and so vast...

A frozen wasteland made the kingdom quite hard to reach.

But one day, the king he grew very ill, and the sky began to darken around the kingdom as time passed.

The prince stayed by his father's side followed by his mother's.

The king was a great man…

He was quite the cooler.

It pained Ice to see his father in such pain.

He removed his father's bandages in order to clean them.

He saw a growing black mass.

A thing he had never seen, he quickly bandaged up his father with fear.

Time had passed, his father on the brink.

The sight of the illness still fresh on Ice's mind.

The king uttered out his final words,

"My son you are now king... of our home you must protect.”

“I will be going... to a land with...-"

He began to cough as he laid back crown falling and tinging on the icy ground.

The mother shielding her son, from the horrific sight, his father had passed.

The boy cried into his mother, cried many shards of ice.

But the mass on the king began to grow.

The mother with eyes widened turned herself away.

The black mass began to strike at the family,

The mother grasped tight and closed her eyes,

"Ice my son-..."

She was pierced by the mass.

She let go of Ice and told Ice to flee.

Ice fled from the room, the dark mass spreading around the kingdom.

Into the frozen wastelands, Ice had no choice.

He walked on for days, with no end in sight.

He collapsed here in the wastelands, the light leaving his eyes.

A whisper called out,

"Your time is not now..."

Ice grasped at the snow below him and screamed,

"What now?!"

But then Ice realized...

He was all alone.

Where was this voice he wondered.

He was tormented and taunted by the voice as he pushed on…

He found a strange cave, suspended in ice.

He took refuge in the cave for a while, but then he heard the voice once more,

"Come... come my son..."

It cried.

Ice looked into the cave, and continued in, he knew that voice.

It was his father's.

Ice traveled deeper into the cave…

No end to be in sight.

It felt as if he were heading into the depths of hell itself.

Ice pressed on even so until he met with a chamber, pulsing light emitting from black ice.

It seemed so familiar, but the boy could not remember.

The chamber grew large, intricate iced furnishings galore.

He reached a large hall a frozen throne left vacant, a frozen crown sat nearby on the ground before him.

He took the crown in hand and came near the throne.

He saw what appeared to be his father, a once proud king sitting atop the throne.

Ice was on the edge, his sanity was in question…

He called out to the image,

"Are you my father?"

The image nodded, extending his arms…

Until young Ice noticed…

This was what became of the kingdom.

His eyes widened as he began to see the truth.

Too late he saw, a large black mass figure sitting atop the throne.

It extended its arms and grasped onto Ice.

He struggled as the mass pulled.

"Don't fight..."

The mass whispered.

Ice screamed and turned he saw his mother...

A statue of black ice.

His tears ran with ice.

The mass pulled Ice close, just enough to give him a hug.

Ice's eyes widened further...

A gasp escaping his mouth.

The black mass spoke once more,

"I am your father."

Ice screamed and kicked, but the mass began to liquefy.

The icy skin of Ice was darkened and cracked,

"You are my vessel my son…”

“You will grow strong and proud."

Ice screamed as his eyes grew purple with taint.

His icy skin cracked and broken…

Slowly becoming black ice.

The ice encroached the kingdom became shattered.

Everything collapsed on Ice, and some say he remained frozen.

- Many Years Passed -

A frozen wasteland.

A hand of ice breaks through the ground, an icy black mass rising in the stead of the cracks.

Darkened crystals and ice rise from the ground.

In place of the once proud kingdom that stood here many years ago.

Atop the frozen throne, he sat…

Eyes glowing bright purple…

His corrupted icy skin and a grin of pure evil.

An army of dark icy demons spilled from the walls of this new kingdom...

A warmonger...

The Icemonger... cometh.