The Figure
In the heart of the maelstrom, Korig's mind was a tempest, battling against the relentless tide of goblins.
His thoughts coalesced around the ancient altar, now throbbing with energy, offering a connection to a bygone era.
He remembered the incantation from the tome, the words that seemed to echo in the depths of his being.
Drawing upon the depths of his resolve, Korig chanted the ancient verses, his voice rising amidst the cacophony of battle.
The altar responded, resonating with the power within him.
A surge of energy erupted, spiraling through the markings on the ground, tracing intricate patterns.
The goblin horde paused, sensing the change in the air.
Korig's eyes flared with the light of the altar, the ancient power coursing through his veins.
He felt a fusion of his present self and the essence of a time long past. It was if some other presence provided him power from some place far away.