The sun's rising was the signal the living were waiting for, the bright star, its light a nourishment for the life below, shone bright, the gates of the city swung open, leading the way for many soldiers, all eight elemental champions, and the iron king himself, leading the charge.
For a moment, they halted, Loimos, still grasping upon his war scythe with both hands, was exuding a more than menacing presence, a maelstrom of death force and dead energies swirling around him, enhanced by countless arts and conditions affixed on each individual energies, using the teachings of Nosferatu, he utilised stack for something other than simply enhancing his physique, runes, sigils and other symbols spun around his body alongside him, circles forming.
Incantations were recited, making for a most ominous imagery, the runes and such were all issued from the death tongue, which was a language that encompassed just about everything, so no one could decipher what Loimos was up to.
