<div class="floatright"><div align="center"><strong>Ungrath</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=283007.msg13921610#msg13921610)</div>(https://i.imgur.com/txRkijR.png)<br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Quick stats</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: left;"><strong>HP:</strong> 320/320 <strong>AC:</strong>44 <strong>Ini:</strong>+13<br/><strong>Spot</strong>+26, <strong>Listen</strong>+26<br/>Dark Vision 60ft, Mindsight (300'ft)<br/><strong>Buffs:</strong> Soulmelds active as in CS, Enlarge self, Bite of the Wererat, Force of Will Aura</div></div></div></div></div>Ungrath hums ponderously as her tendril caresses some grime off of the backrest, revealing the lavish shine of gold rims and carvings of her throne. She pauses to consider the ogre's words. "Is that so?" Echo the dual voices in question. Her eyes did not leave the symbol. He said the call would grow to consume her thoughts. Said there would be pain to pay for power hidden within it. "You sound fittingly insane for someone titled the prophet of the Abyss..." She mumbled with a smirk.<br/><br/>The opening of doors stirred her from a trance of deep thought. Her front turned slowly towards the new arrival as rest of Ungrath's massive body stayed hugging the throne. She considered the satyr for a few moments. He emitted enough confidence that the creature was something akin to herself in strength. Whatever the deal with these thrones and the prophet was if things were to turn sour and they all banded against her things might not go Ungrath's way. One thing she knew though. This call, whatever it was, it was hers. She wanted it. She would have it. They'd never take it from her. Her body climbed and slobbered onto the throne with class of a stillborn Abyssal maggot, ending up to lie on it sideways. However, as she climbed on top Ungrath felt her strength fade. Control of her body slipped from her as an overwhelming sensation grew. A flood of memories blurred the world around her into one moment of agony not quite describable by either pleasure or pain.<br/><br/>An oppressive aura fell upon the area around Ungrath as she screamed a shriek both ear piercingly high and low enough to resonate within the chest and stonework. The colors faded and air disappeared as weight of the depths fell upon her throne and the space nearby. Her tendrils flailed madly at the air. Incarnum claws and teeth tried to bore to the throne, clawing away more of the brittle layer of dust and stone, revealing beneath a rich throne of wood and gold with flamboyant pirate design. The feminine shape at her head tried to tear her face and hair away as black acid tears dribbled down to her naked form. Her eyes were wide open, but she wasn't there.<br/><br/>Ungrath was face to face with with an elven pirate that she knew was her. For a moment anyway before the two minds merged. Centuries merged and two selves collided. She was Sharalal Verine, the pirate Empress all feared. The queen of Dread Fey Fleet and idol of thousands if not millions, loved by all but the fools on the wrong side of the cannons. That was not Ungrath. That was nothing like Ungrath. The Abyssal creature screamed in protest as it became part of her. The memory of the elf laughed through the scream at the irony and wept at the same time at all the countless lovable Fey that she had consumed upon being reborn. Foolish stupid Ungrath. Why would the new her want to eat her most beloved friends? Why... To keep them close forever. In a way it did make sense - in the same way gravity sometimes made sense upside down in the Abyss. One had had so much adoration to spare, the other only fear. They nearly failed to find harmony, but then calmed as she found the brightest of their - of her - desires: The insatiable greed. She found that it all made sense in a funny way. Why bother think too hard? It was what it was, and it would be like this forevermore if her hunch of the madness that Alexander has brought upon them.<br/><br/>The pressure faded into nothingness, leaving castle bricks cracked. Strangely, the cracks began to knit close and the bricks heal themselves... Ungrath had calmed, her form ceasing the helpless flailing and the deafening bellows. A wide playful grin decorated her ethereal face as she wiped her hair aside from the eyes, feeling reborn.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Empowerment</div><div class="spoiler_body">The castle and its occupants aside from Ungrath gain fast healing 5 and benefit from a portion of her natural armor, gaining nat AC +4 (castle structures increase hardness). <br/><br/>Ungrath gains the change shape ability and alternate form of a playful and cruel red haired elf once known as Sharalal. </div></div>