Snippet #2648298

The world slowed to a crawl in Gro'chal's eyes. He felt the heat of the flames, the ripples of chaotic energy, and the whispers of the Dead echo in the back of his mind. The lich listened to the whispers and his mind brushed against their essence. They replied with words both forgotten and ancient - words that only the Dead dared utter.

It was these words that Gro'chal rumbled in the tongue of the Naacani. His cadence of clicks, growls, and hisses were the unintelligible rambling of an animal to the layman, but one versed in the language of the Dead would hear a very clear meaning...

"Open the Way."

Gro'chal's entire body became distorted, like a shimmering fog, before exploding in a cloud of swiftly dissipating smoke. Darkness took Gro'chal's vision as the whispers became a thunderous chorus that battered his soul. Bigsby appeared as a blindingly white light that whipped and snapped in a roaring gale before him. The wizard's movements were sluggish and his Powerful voice was like distant thunder on the horizon. Deathweaver's own body was frozen mid-pounce with the slowly advancing wave of chaotic magic between him and his quarry.

However, with a strong push of will, the world moved backwards as he slid between the worlds of Life and Death - of Light and Darkness. It felt like trying to swim through hardening concrete. The call of the Dead was powerful here, like a siren's song. They called to him - asking him to rest... to sleep. Why should he bear this burden any longer? Had he not done enough? Perhaps if he just closed his ey-

NO!

Gro'chal clenched his hands and unleashed a tidal wave of psychic power through the realm, demanding Their silence with no room for question. He was their master. He was in control. He refused to be taken again!

The lich stepped around Bigsby's wave of power. His legs were heavy, his feet were lead, and a mountain of Despair and Suffering crushed his back, but he pushed on without hesitation. He called out to the spirits that were loyal to him... The Ten Thousand, and those whose chains he had broken, and they answered. Gro'chal was filled with with a supernatural strength that allowed him to make the final step, and he once again Spoke the Words.

"Close the Way."

Gro'chal materialized behind Bigsby in a burst of black flames that smelled of sulfur and decay. He immediately spun on his heel and whipped his tail at Bigsby's unprotected head like a flail before following up with a burst of necrotic flames from his staff.