Sends Wraithlord flying with a punch

A bloody fist pounded into the open wound and Althenian felt himself lifted, even as he slashed down at the leering face of shadow and flame, laying the edge of his wraithblade against the skull and jaw of the immortal. Removed from physical sensation, the former exarch cared nothing for the damage wrought to his frame, nor for the deafening bellow of rage unleashed as the Warshard heaved the wraithlord bodily through the air. That shout resonated through the spirit-mire, daggers of hateful intent that left burning welts across the soul of Althenian.

He crashed to the ground amid splintering rock and splitting wraithbone. Tumbling, an arm came away, and his brightlance with it, while over and over he rolled. He put out steel-strong fingers and skidded to a stop, raking furrows in the dark stone. Althenian lay still for a moment, half twisted, trying to marry the whirling remnants of his physical being with the shout-addled peregrinations of his spirit.

Rise of the Ynnari: Ghost Warrior