The chain overwhelms the cemetery; waves away the blood of the isle!
Amidst the thundrous roar of a hundred throats, the charging of a hundred beasts, the blurring of a thousand forms, one might think that drifting into the realms the subconcious would be impossable. But, this is not so. For, as the herd of great cats rush forward, the Necromancer's eyes roll into the back of his head, and he settles into a standing trance.
Casting his conciousness forth, he centers his mind on one of the shadow tigers. He delves deep into it's being, into the components that make it. As he knew he would, he finds them: the Earth of the dirt, the Water that forms all living things, and the Fire of Shou Ren's crimson life.
He ignores the the Earth, and concentrates on the Water and Fire. They combine in a unique signature that is Shou Ren's blood, the essence of the gaunt, withered magician. The Bright Necromancer studies this signature, memorizes it, and searches for it's match.
He finds not one, but one hundred and one. Nine and Ninety are large and tainted with Earth, one small and so. But there is a single form that has no taint, but is the voice behind the echo, the cloud above the rain. This is Shou Ren.
The necromancer casts his awareness at that form, attempting to overwhelm and reconfigure the subatomic structures of his opponent. He infects the man's blood with the putrid air of the stale, dead cemetary; the rotten earth of the open grave. He draws from the essence of the man's magic, and pours the contamination into his life fluids.
Bright regains his conciousness, stares at the great, rushing cats. He holds up a hand, and speaks out a word of dispelling, and hopes his forray into the vile enchanter's soul was successful.
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