The ground shivered, quaking as if in sheer anticipation of the blood it would soon drink. Then, stakes of bone ruptured forth, rising up from upturned piles of dirt from all around Aldrich. The sound of flesh splitting apart, rending against hardened bone, echoed through the air in a symphony of impalation.
Aldrich briefly glanced around, seeing what must have been at least a hundred elves held up high, their eyes still listless as blood poured from their bodies, trickling and painting the ashen white bone stakes in patterns of crimson.
The [Call of the Impaler] had worked incredibly, showcasing just how good it was at area of effect damage. Each stake must have had three, four, even fix or six elves skewered on them - that was how tightly packed the elves had been trying to reach Aldrich, trampling over each other in a stampede of mindless, zombie-like drive.
