Your mother suddenly pops into existence next to you, her umbilical cord begins to materialize as the necrotic energies fueling the resurrection form her mother’s outline. The priest’s face is glowing like the surface of the sun, the skin peeling off and floating away in glowing motes. You realize the power of his god is flowing forth unabated and ever increasing. The symbol of Moradin, the dwarven god of creation hanging from the neck of the priest rekindles a long forgotten memory, reminding you that it was said the dwarven god of creation values automation above all else.

You lie there paralyzed by the power of the god fueling the spell coursing through you, through your maternal ancestry and now into your great great great great grandmother who is growing an umbilical cord of her own. You can only hope that the priest’s mortal frame gives out soon.