Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160726175355/@comment-28358106-20160729141039

"Your prayers fail you, Champion, because your gods fail you.  And the failure of your own oath will haunt you for eternity.  I will let you live, that you may ponder what you are about to witness for the remainder of your numbered days."

Praetor finds himself weakened beyond measure as the Lich extends His hand. His  knees give out and he slumps to the altar, his back to the slab.

Druella squirms as Victivius pulls her towards Him, her broken body rising in the air. She gasps as she is forced to face out towards Praetor, her eyes wildly darting in terror. She floats there before Victivius...

And His hand passes through her chest from behind, a black shadow. Her face is a thousand agonies, the reflection of every sin she has ever cursed her victims with. She doesn't have time to cry out...

As Praetor watches, she rots, turns to bone, and then dust.

Her essence, a flickering violet shape, fills the room, its power probing even his own mind. He feels the echoes of the sins she has committed, their depravity and hedonism, just as it is pulled into the Lich's hand. Victivius regards it for a moment, then, looking at Praetor, is gone in a dark flash.

There is a sound like an explosion,  deep and echoing. He hears the sound of glass shattering,  of obsidian cracking. He knows the essence of Druella that held her palace together is now gone, and soon it shall be too.

With Victivius absent, Praetor feels his own presence fading, returning to where he came from. But now, he only dimly becomes aware of the sounds of battle just outside the door, even as the palace begins to crumble...