Rhythmic pounding in his ears as the drumbeat begins.

His hands striking a regular, rolling rhythm that calls both to the river and to himself.

Power surging through him, the shaman's ritual adding to his own. His body shivering under the strain of containing and controlling it.

A frightening awareness of the risk. A calm understanding that it is far too late to turn back now.

Slipping silently into the river. The resonant tempo propelling him into its depths.

Pounding in his ears as the drumbeat continues.

Gathering speed as he rushes headlong down the river towards his goal. Gathering water into himself so that his form swells in size and strength.

The feeling of emptiness behind him as the dry riverbed awaits the return water from further upstream.

Grief at his part in bringing the destruction down upon his homeland. Grim surety that it is the earth wizard who has truly done wrong.

Shuddering in his body as the strain of maintaining the ritual grows. Soreness and fatigue spreading throughout it.

Pounding in his ears as the drumbeat continues.

The city at once growing and shrinking in perspective as his form steadily builds, the miles tumbling past.

The city in the distance, its warriors making a valiant stand against the encroaching beasts.

Anger at the shaman for not having left well enough alone, for having set these events in motion. Accepting that the shaman had only been doing what he thought was right, working to defend his people.

A sensation of vertigo as power continues to flow through his ever-weakening frame.

Pounding in his ears as the drumbeat continues.

Looming above the trembling city as invader and defender alike attempt to flee his coming.

Reaching out one massive arm and sweeping the breadth of the lower city clean in his passing.

The thrill of victory as the broken bodies of the invaders are pulled into his form. The pang of guilt as some of the defenders are taken with them.

Numbness and shortness of breath as his frame begins to falter under the strain.

Pounding in his ears as the drumbeat continues.

Looming above the fields east of the city and witnessing the same reaction there.

Flinging himself across the southern and eastern fields. Rolling back into the riverbed as he scours them bare.

Victory and guilt again as the new swath of invaders are joined by yet more defenders within his form.

Dimness in his vision. Burning in his lungs. Crushing pain in his chest. Barely the strength left to play.

Pounding in his ears as the drumbeat continues.

The plains rushing by as he roars towards the great gulf ahead.

The sensation of flying as his form and all of the beasts within go hurtling over the precipice.

Dizziness as the ground rushes up towards him. Disassociation as his form bursts apart in the rush of air.

Elation as he triumphs on the river. Agony as darkness claims him on the shore.

The drumbeat finally falls silent.