As the small boat drifted across the Screaming River, the scenery around felt less like a place and more like a corpse of a forgotten world.
The black waters stretched endlessly in every direction, thick and still like a liquid shadow. The sheer scale of it would make one question whether it was a river or an ocean.
Beneath the surface, pale faces sometimes drifted into view before rapidly vanishing into the depths. At times, skeletal hands would briefly emerge from the river as though countless dead souls were trying to claw their way upward.
The only reason these poor things dared to come so close to the boat was that the lich had withdrawn his aura. So the moment they caught a glimpse of him, they turned and fled in terror.
