Role

Chapter 2

Laisren's palms came together, and there was the grate of stone, a low rumble of
thunder shook the ground with the hiss of liquid splattering on a hot surface like
oil sizzling as it splashes into a blazing fire. Terror bled through the eyes of the
squires as they stared at the gray earth of the Imperial graveyard shaking beneath
their feet. Spouts of earth sprung upward pushed by countless white hands streaked in
ash and soot their skin split and cracked showing through to chalk white bone beneath
oozing with puss and stained wine red wounds. The foul living corpses forced their
way to the surface toppling granite markers and marble tombstones as they tumbled
over each other. Some were already broken, crawling on shattered knees, arms askew
and rattling in corroded blackened armor. Twisted from the inside out they grasped
broken blades and spewed disease ridden bile from their cracked jaws. The squires
splayed their weapons about, but with each denizen felled the numbers of the dead
only grew. The mud turned red with blood.

A storm paladin champion roared, his pike wheeling, cutting throats with
every pass. His platinum armor streaked with blood and oil, his gauntleted fist
slammed skyward as he uttered a word of wrath. A cold wind blew from the northwest
coupled with a blast of white light turning all before it into a cloud of white hot
ash.

Laisren woke in the Temple of Hamsah Mu'tazz, he was not weaker for his falling in
holding his ground. He was only more determined to prove his strength to his Empire
and to his Lord.