Regongar's eyes grow dead. The half-orc looks away from you. "The quietest time is just before the thunderstor

Regongar's eyes grow dead. The half-orc looks away from you. "The quietest time is just before the thunderstorm... And then... drip, drop... plip, plop... And then it bursts! And flashes! Your soul groans, and whizzes, the wind howls, and the thunder strikes!" Regongar licks his dry lips. He seems unaware of the electricity arcing between his fingers. "And you are the storm! No one can stop you. That's how it works. I tried it. I know what I'm talking about."