Down in the physical realm, a few hours passed.
Gorak finally dropped his training weights. His massive, bone-plated chest heaved with exertion. He wiped the ash and sweat from his face, left the training yard behind, and walked slowly toward the center of the Bastion.
He stepped through the massive, bleached jaws of the Hydra skull and entered the grand temple. The air inside was cool and heavy with the scent of burning incense. At the far end of the bone-lined hall, Krug stood before the central altar, tending to the roaring violet flames of their Faith.
Gorak stopped a few paces behind the High Priest.
"Did the Lord speak?" Gorak asked, his deep voice echoing off the curved bone ceiling. "Did He give an order regarding the challenge?"
Krug did not turn around. He kept his eyes locked on the divine fire. "The Creator is silent on this matter, Warlord. I have received no commands."
