Retreating from the sizable cavalry of Illarion's warriors that had marched upon his legion, the undead lord hobbled unevenly with heavy, strenuous footsteps, plunging his partisan into the sand for assistance. The skulls of his fallen victims that had been shamelessly claimed and decorated with hooks upon his chest swayed wildly now, banging as though with bloody vengeance against the dying shimmer of his dented armor. Finally, Gray's defeat was in sight!
"Just... Die!" he shrieked whilst turning frantically to lambaste the crowd that drew ever closer, as they plowed through Prea's acolytes.
"You first Gray... Forever!" hailed an Elven voice from the crowd, eager and dripping with determination.
"May your power strengthen us and cure this place from the impurity!" proclaimed the holy warrior Titus, as the book of Zhambra was raised up like a weapon. Soon, more voices elevated in crescendo, like the roar of a lion, joining his own in righteous union.
Falling down again, the undead lord ushered all the strength available to him to soften the falling blow with his hand. Yet, as the power he had held grew ever weaker, his attempts were pitiful and to no avail, breaking only his fingers in the process.
"Regroup!"
Wading frantically through the desert sands toward the altar of his master, Gray was out of last hurrahs. All that stood between Illarion's heroes and he were a small number of reds that fought subserviently to defend their keeper. Around the altar, meanwhile, the ground had become visibly more unstable.
"Praise lord Zhambra!"
"No... NOOO!"
"Yes!"
~ !!! ~
"Prea..." Gray whimpered
In what could either be described as an elaborate escape plan or divine intervention, the exploding fires around the altar ignited higher and higher towards the heavens and, slowly, the altar sank, taking its burning master into the depths of Kantabi.
And then.... Blackness. Silence. Gray was dead.
Surely...?
In the words of the damned: "How do you expect to kill something that is already dead? You should have thought about that earlier!"
Just as it had done with Prea's vessel, the fire that had engulfed his forsaken body had certainly done its damage, though ridding this creature of its putrid flesh entirely. Digging through the wreckage from below, inside the volcanic chambers beneath the Kantabi, the remains were ultimately procured by the replenishing legion. To declare this beast dead would turn out to be nothing more than wishful thinking and staggering ignorance. What was happening beneath the surface of the desert remained unchallenged and had manifested into something of a sight to behold. The reach of Preacerdhal and the ground that the demon had claimed to this point had grown and continues to grow obscenely vast.
Moved from what was thought to be Gray's final resting place and kept in Letma for a period of time, the lord's promise had been kept. Though, in an ironic turn of events, instead of the flesh falling from his enemies - the 'sullied' - it would be he that would join the pile of bones. In defeat, the creature had now become unrecognizable. Unbound from the desires of the flesh and subservience of the Younger system lords, Gray was more powerful than ever before.
One soul shall be given.
Two lives of sentient minds shall be sacrificed.
Three must cross the line to live in demon fire for eternity.
Four earthquakes toll success.
It lives...
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