As James and his companions faced the enraged lich within the tomb, the air became electric, dense with a force that crackled like storm clouds about to unleash their fury. Shadows curled and twisted, emanating from the lich's skeletal form, and the room seemed to darken with each passing second. Ancient runes along the walls flared to life, casting an eerie, blood-red glow across the chamber that danced upon the remains of those long-dead sacrifices bound to the altars.
The lich raised his bony arms, his fingers elongated and sharp like talons, his hollow eye sockets blazing with a malevolent red fire. His voice filled the chamber, echoing in an otherworldly timbre that sent chills down their spines.
"Who dares disturb the tomb of Thak'ra? Who are you, who think yourselves worthy to defy the will of the cursed Pharaoh?" The words reverberated like the cracking of old, dry bones, seeming to suck the very warmth from the air.
