Broken, the king moaned piteously, "Nooooooooo". As the Anachron swept his scepter above each one, threads of light erupted into white ropes of energy, draining them utterly, their bodies crumbling to ash. "Spare them! I beg you!" the king pleaded. Shutting his eyes tight, he wailed, "By the Seeds of the Tree, how much longer must I endure this?" The Anachron thrust his scepter into the air as the breeze became wind. The leaves rustled, and the whole garden swayed with the sudden gust of air. Threads from a few in the wide chanting circle burst into thick ribbons of white hot light binding the entire ring of chanting forms to the artifact held aloft by the black priest. "How much longeeeer?" yelled the dying king, his voice a beastly growl.
—From The Well of Power , an entry in the Tome of CHAOS
Collection: Chaos Legion
Total Edition(s): 50