Diane braced herself as the harbinger's grotesque form loomed ever closer, radiating waves of eldritch malevolence. The foul draugr army scraped and chittered in their master's wake, emerald flames burning hungrily in their defiled eye sockets.

"Steady," she growled to her warband, refusing to let her alphastrength waver. "We are the Celestial Guardians - forged to confront any darkness that threatens the cosmic balance."

"Aye, but this..." Elena exhaled a shuddering breath, her haunches tensed. "This is a spawn of the unknowable cosmos itself. Are we truly forged to defy such nightmares given form?"

"We must be," Diane stated flatly, though her words carried more conviction than she truly felt....