As if summoned by her words, the sky above them darkened further.
The skeletal dragon, which had been circling at a distance like some carrion bird, suddenly folded its bone wings and dove toward the ground.
Its landing shook the ground like a tremor, ancient bones grinding against stone as it settled its massive frame behind the advancing line of undead.
Atop its spine, the Lich King rose from his throne of fused ribcage and tattered shadow, his form seeming to draw the very light from the air around him.
"How tedious," the ancient undead lord spoke, his voice carrying the hollow echo of wind through empty crypts. Each word seemed to leech warmth from the air, causing breath to mist and weapons to grow cold in trembling hands.
"I had hoped the orcs might provide adequate entertainment, but as always, they prove themselves disappointingly... predictable."
He spoke as though he just sent them off, but Morgana didn't think so.
