In the Necropolis
"Your Usurper is in quite some trouble, Mel. Is that why you called me here? To save him?" Medula stood before the belltower at the peak of the Necropolis.
There, beneath the pillar of green energy that fueled the entire Necropolis was the Death Lord. Gone were her usual regal robes of silky emerald and lavender. Instead, she sat there completely naked, her icy pale skin outlined in a torrent of falling teal energy.
Patches of emerald scales around her elbows, knees, shoulders, and cheeks as well as her two horns, curved back like scythe blades, seemed to take in the energy, glowing with bright green hue.
She sat cross-legged, hands together and eyes closed as the energy roared and crashed through her. She looked like a monk meditating beneath a waterfall, though instead of rushing water pouring through her head, it was unfathomable quantities of magical energy fueled from harvested souls and misery.
