"Seriously?" Zendrell cracked his neck side to side, a tired look on his face as he stared at the abomination Malgareth had become.
The writhing mass of black flesh and armor snarled at the sound of his voice.
And then—
*ROOOOAAAAARRRR!!!
A guttural cry ripped through the air as Malgareth's monstrous mouth gaped wide, stretching unnaturally until it looked like it would tear in half.
And from it came a wave of thick, black liquid—like puke—shooting straight into the sky.
The stream hissed and boiled as it climbed upward before reaching its peak.
Then, after just a few seconds—
*Plop... *Plop... *Plop...
it began to fall.
Dark droplets descended like rain, slow at first, then faster.
Each one sizzled and hissed violently upon contact with the earth—
*Zzzshh! *Sssssk!
—melting rock, disintegrating the ground like acid.
But Troy had already moved.
Before the first drop had even fallen, he stepped forward, his eyes focused, calm.
His staff glowed, then spun—
*Whrrrm!
