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A dark and terrible tremble from deep in the earth arose, and from the horizons there sprang dark clouds. Fell voices were heard upon the winds that bore down from the mountains, and it became as night. Crack! went the world and a deep chasm opened beneath Bethberry's feet. A howling of horror filled her ears and from the chasm there emerged a single, pale emaciated hand. Clawing at the earth, the hand gained purchase and then there appeared an arm, rotted and flayed, with the ends of worms crawling through the dissolving flesh. A head then came out of the chasm, its eyes blank and white with rot, quickly followed by the putrid mass of a (cloaked) body. Bethberry gasped in horror and fell back, holding one hand before her nose to block the smell.
Fordim spoke, but his voice was thick and slurred with the pulpy mass that his tongue had become for its time in the ground. "Greetings my lady! It is good to be back, but as you can see," he moved his hand before him to indicate the advanced state of decay, "I am somewhat the worse for the wait."
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