Snippet #1415632

It seems Allister was clever enough to divine his true self. No matter, he was too close to his goals to be stopped now.

"What you offer is slavery. I have not come this far to be shackled down in servitude Allister. I have no want for your philosophical contrivances about the futility of fighting death. Moreover, I will not have you debate ownership of what is mine. You say this land does not belong to me? My will moves it's every grain of sand."

At that Tier'Zial flexed his arms as power coursed down them to strike the ground about his feet with red bolts of magics. The ground began to tremor and crack. Then a whirlwind erupted to lift the aforementioned sand in a swirling vortex around the Prince. Fire poured forth from the fissures in the ground, spilling into the swirling sand and changing it. The resultant glass was sloshed against the princes skin, hissing and cracking at it cooled and hardened into a carapace of sharp, magically hardened armour. As the whirlwind died down, the last of the molten glass dripped down each of his forearms and formed keen blades. the princes face was now encased in a mask of six eyes staring out impassively at Allister. The fires glinted off the princes new skin and as he rose his arm to point a blade at him, it sounded as though a thousand jewels were being poured into a coffer.

"I will give you this one last chance to leave here Allister. Leave and never return to my sight. Else I promise, you will not stave off death this time."