A Teutons weapon is his life! With brands bright you kick off and use the last of your fatebending to grab the Vorpal. As your finger tips touch it you are pulled back away from the light and toward what you imagine is the horror of being eaten alive. You struggle and fight to break loose, then with a mighty thrust of muscle, will, and fate you dive down and grab your blade. You ignite it and a roar of green glowing steam gasses out and forms and endless rising column of bubbles.
With fierce jabs you manage to force the beast back and crawl from the black water. It rises up, and you can see its full form, a mass grave of dead spines from hundreds creatures across hundreds of years. Its decaying bone and sinew body thrash about attempting to bring you into is undead maw. With all the might of the Vorpal blade of Columbia you drive your sword into the desiccated hulk. An explosion of bone and meat spray across your eyes and the foul taste of rotten flesh smears into your nose and mouth. Writhing in a violent jig, the dying thing trashes into the black waters. With a cry to the ancestors that stings your throat, you have won this battle!
You spend hours searching the ruins, but find nothing more than tables, chairs, and dust. With rest, water and more experience you rise up out of the ruin.