Vikro was kicked awake. He was dragged from his cell last, mainly because the guards had to slay about a dozen shadowy tentacles that had sprung up from the floor of Vikro's cell. The last thing Vikro saw before being taken from his cell was the paladin girl calling upon the light and using it to save a Druid. He felt ashamed, like he had betrayed the light, like he had failed.
During the walk down the hall, Vikro prayed. He prayed like he had never prayed before. This new power, it felt amazing, but it didn't suit him. Vikro became the priest he is today through discipline, and fighting with the shadows, while exilarating, is not a disciplined art. As Vikro stepped into the arena, his eyes were visibly glowing white.
His prayer had been answered.
He looked at his hurt and downtrodden comrades, exhausted and waning. He smiled his old wicked smile.
"It be my time to shine." His voice literally boomed, and sounded almost symphonic, as if a chorus of voices spoke in unison with Vikro to turn his regular tone into a harmonious chord that could bring the most battle-hardened Orc to tears.
Vikro began doing what he did best: first, he renewed his companions, to close their wounds and return their strength, then, he began shielding them, and finally, when he was sure they were refreshed and ready for more, he turned his attention to the sprites. He discovered something positively and literally wicked.
Some of power he found when he became a shadow had stuck with him. He used it, and the light, and began wrecking havoc upon the sprites. Smithing then, searing them with holy flames, blasting them to dust with penance bolts. He summoned a shadowy beast, and whenever it hurt or killed a sprite, he felt some magical energy return to him. Vikro learned that he could mind control the sprites and force them to explode, killing about a dozen each time.
Vikro killed a path to the others, and took up rank behind them.
"Dey keem comin'. Do we be havin' a plan?"
Edited by Vikro on 9/19/2012 10:12 PM PDT