The call to battle comes up and I race to the field. I take a moment and inhale the blessed fumes from my mask as I recall the battlefield and its nodes of power before stepping in. Ignoring allies and enemies alike, I crouch down at the first node and lay a hand upon the floor, calling out the taint latent within the ground beneath me and feeling it meld with me. I duck down to dodge beneath the axe being swung at my head as I dart to the next node of power and claim it under Earthen dominance, causing blessed fumes to billow forth across the land under my will, kicking up dust and sending debris flying as I feel my uncontested grip tightening upon the battlefield. They were not fast enough in the initial rush and have left to regroup.
I savor the moment as I feel my will expand throughout the expanse of my meld, the very ground shudders in protest before yielding to my Earthen might, billowing forth plumes of poisonous fumes as the ground continues to shudder, kicking up clouds of dust to hang in the air. I smile a little in satisfaction at the pulses that run throughout my demesne, in tune to the heartbeat I might have were my undead heart to still beat. Allowing my being and the Earth to become as one, I let the dust clouds swirl through the air to my amusement before allowing it to settle.
And now I need only wait. I crouch down a little in anticipation as I sense every little tremor of footstep through my meld, I grit my teeth a little in annoyance at my allies traipsing across the ground careless of how it disturbs the Blessed Earth. I push the thought away of how much better it would be if they were perfectly preserved fossils too so that I can focus on the task at hand, the sudden prickle of the hairs at the back of my neck gives me the sensation of being watched, they must be ready for the push.
I consider the possibilities of what to do when they arrive, would I unleash a storm of polluted fury upon them, or would I be still as granite and endure until the right moment to strike. I clench my fist tighter around my staff and feel the reassuring weight of my magnum blastworks at my side, checking the holster that it is free. Even as my body tenses in anticipation, I can feel each pulse through the Earth hanging like a held breath, and through the meld I sense the restless stamping of Blythe my dream phoenix left behind in the early rush to establish my dominion.
In this moment of held breath as I wait with my senses extended through my demesne, tense like a coiled spring, I allow the prayer beads kept tucked beneath the sleeve of my suit to shake free. I roll the reassuring shape of the glass beads in the palm of my hand and as I do, even through the tainted fumes of my mask I can smell intoxicating wispy vapours of Her Aegis that nearly causes my heart to thrum from its deathly stillness. I inhale deeply and savour the blissful moment with a silent prayer.
Then all at once I can feel in the distance the stamping of hostile feet breaking the sanctuary of my land. There is a wry smile as I think to myself, "The Earth shall greedily drink its fill of blood. Soon," and with that I raise my twisted staff to unleash Earthen fury as the fight begins.