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The Shadow only Hides the Light

Shadows Beckon

Shadows Beckon

Planetoid
Joined
Jul 16, 2010
Marcus wasn't usually one to travel in the company of others. It wasn't just that the average inhabitant of these lands was reviled by his ghoulish features, gaunt stature and dark attire, but he rather preferred the companionship offered by his minions. Loyal, disciplined, obedient; there was a lot to be said in favor of the skeletons and elementals he could conjure with a whim, even if they didn't offer much in the way of conversation, it was better than trying to engage the local populace on the theological matters of Rathma.

The situation at hand though called for a little more cooperation than he was accustomed to however, what with the Lords of Terror, Hatred, and Destruction practically running rampant. It had been his great effort then, to make his good intentions known to the travelling companions who had joined him in their efforts to combat the tide of malignancy that sought to claim these lands, and despite his relative inexperience in social situations, and the macabre nature of his methods, he had prevailed upon them to accept him.

All except the follower of Lam Esen, the Viz-Jaq'taar, the Assassin. She was constantly suspicious of Marcus, and he thought he'd caught her more than once, tyeing him as though her blades were already at his throat. Which had only lead him to wonder how many times he hadn't caught her doing it. Where social niceties had failed however, he was now prepared to go to more extraordinary means; dark and morbid means; his means, to rectify the situation.

After the others had fallen asleep at their campsite, he stole away, making just enough noise about it to be sure to rouse one as skilled as her. Making his way to a nearby shrine and mausoleum, he heard nor saw no sign of her following, but knew she would. He entered, and after making his obeisance to Rathma, set the trap, facing away from the dark stairs downward into the candle lit sanctuary, the perfect bate for one such as she.
 
Kalysto herself wasn't exactly a people person, though she had come to be quite attached to the young druid who had travelled amongst them. But she was a loner, one who kept to the shadows and remained only a whisper among people. But it was times like these. When the forces of evil were mounted to destroy all that was good in their world. That joined forces with a druid, a amazon, a barbarian, a paladin, a sorceress, and a necromancer. A strange bunch, but together, they were extremely powerful. If not off to look at.

But the necromancer had not been her idea. Far from it. She reviled his goulish looks and his viles practices. Human sacrifice, summoning back the dead. It disgusted her. In her mind, his "magic" was corruption to it's fullest extent. While the assassins, the followers of Lam-Esen. The kept their bodies pure. Avoiding potential corruption by focusing in on her bodies' natural abilities. Her mind, her hands. They were both deadly weapons.

She had tried on more then on occasion to end the necromancer's life. Being caught, or being guilted out of it by her current bed mate had always stopped her. Anion knew of her plas to kill him. And he had finally conceded to no longer stop her. Which was why that now, that they lay in bed, Anion sound asleep with his hand rested on her toned butt, she heard someone sneaking around. This peeked her interest. As an assassin, it was almost instinctive to check it out.

She slipped out from under Anion's arm. Clothing herself, and covering his bare sking back up with the blanket. She slipped out of the tent as she slid her katars onto her hands. gripping them tightly. She saw that damned Marcus sneaking off. That was when she realized, now was her chance. He hadn't noticed her, so she silently followed him. Hiding when needed. But most of the time just following at a safe distance. Her footsteps light and her movements speedier then most could comprehend with their eyes. She followed him to a dank mosoleum. It figured. She crept down the stairs silently. Seeing him with his back facing her. She was inches away from him. She readied her katar.
 
Marcus did not even turn around, meditating as he was at the altar, he could perceive the life energies in the room able to distinguish the spirits of the living and dead which swirled about him. While out in the wilderness it certainly wouldn't be practical for seeking out a concealed opponent, here in this confined space it was more than enough for him to detect the presence of his assailant. With her blades only inches from his back his eyes snapped open and he raised his arms, suddenly glowing with baleful runes and an ensnaring cage of bones sprung up between them, knocking aside her katars even as it encircled Lalysto in a lattice of interlocking bones, held together by the spirits in Marcus's service.

Rising from his kneeling position, Marcus turned to regard her with a haughty smile, crossing his arms before his chest, tauntingly. "You know, usually descending into a crypt in order to commune with one's god would be an indication of a want for privacy." He said his cold voice chiding, as though he were speaking to a child, caught with her hand in the sugar barrel. "But as fate would have it, I trusted you not to respect that privacy, or rather, trusted your suspicions about me." He laughed and took up his stave, knocking it against the bone cage, standing just out of reach even if she were to try to reach through the narrow openings in the bones.
 
(The katars would've broken her wrists if they came off. The metal bars run all the way up her forearms holding them in place.)

Kalysto growled softly as the bone cage sprang up around her. Clutching her katars tighter she looked at him, the moment he started talking down her, as though she was a child. Insulting her intelligence, she attempted to slice through the bones to no avail. They were stronger then ordinary human bone, for her katars easily cut through human bone. She'd done it all to many times. She would feign death only to put her blade through someone's calf in their gloating.

She glared at him, "Of course I don't trust you! Your corruption runs too deep!" She spat. Her words were filled with venom. "And now that you have me, what exactly do you plan do Necromancer? Sacrifice me?" She knew it was likely he had something planned for her, if he had gone through the trouble of luring her out of bed. At the moment she almost wished she would've stayed in bed ith Anion.
 
(Oh, I know. I just meant that they knocked aside her blades from striking him.)

Seeing her growl like the proverbial caged beasts Marcus couldn't help but chuckle to himself at her predicament. Maybe their barbarian friend would have had more luck simply breaking out of those cages, but Kalysto's strength lay in precision and subtly, not brute force. He feigned distress at her words, putting on a facade of false, shame and guilt as she accused him of all the manner of horrific deeds. "What? Human sacrifice? You wound me, Kalysto, I would think after all we've been through you'd be more trusting of my motives. After all, if I'd wanted you all dead I could have simply had my minions turn on you and the others in the heat of battle." He didn't expect reason to work with her, but it was something of a groundwork for what he actually had in mind. With a thought and a muttered spell, the bone cage began to reshape itself, acquiring a floor of bones as it extended a rattling chain up to the ceiling and began to lift off the ground. "Surely I was only acting in self-defense." He said, "I couldn't just let you kill me without reason."

With her cage now suspended three or four feet in the air, he began to pace around it admiring her unabashedly from every angle. "Besides, what would your lover Anion say about killing a fellow party member in the dead of night without cause." He clicked his tongue at her. "Did you even think of a way to explain my sudden disappearance to the others?" Marcus was enjoying himself far too much all things concerned, taunting her in this manner. And he had to admit that Anion was a lucky man, though he bore him no jealousy. Marcus was taller than the druid (not by much), but certainly did not have his robust build. The necromancer's dark tunic and studded leather wrappings revealed pale flesh, toned and well defined limbs, but not the bulging muscles of his more visceral companions.
 
"You honestly think any of them truly trust you?" Kalysto spat. "I know Anion doesn't. He has simply given up on attempting to talk me out of killing you!" Kalysto was a very deadly warrior, preferring precision and strength to the traps that some assassin's used. She glared at him. Glad she had put on a pair of pants. Had she worn her more traditional outfit that rat bastard would have had a perfect view right up her dress. And as she tended to not wear under garments things would've been seen that didn't need to be. She wasn't exactly tall, standing about 4'10". She weighed maybe 90 pounds soaking wet. But what she lacked in size she more then made up for with her speed and skill. Her light weight also made it easy to travel soundlessly where the other made noise.

Her entire body was extremely toned. Not bulky muscle like Diana the Amazon, but also not loose and untoned like Demona the Sorceress. She was the smallest of their group, but she was asskilled as any of them. More skilled then most. She generally always showed off her toned body. She worked hard for it, she figured it was her right to show it off. Leaving her stomach exposed, showing off an impressive set of abs that would put most men to shame.
 
Marcus sighed as she spat back at him, though in truth he suspected little else. Comradery wasn't a requirement in his eyes, it was enough to have the others trust him enough not to be constantly looking over their shoulders in battle. Anything less was inefficient, and he despised in efficiency. In that regard, he certainly respected Kalysto. Even he had to admit that his necromantic magics could not rival the pure, lethal efficacy of her blades, nor the subtlety with which she could executed lone or surprised foes. "I'd ask what I might say to get you to trust me, but it's quite clear that your mind is made up in this manner." He said, shrugging his shoulders as he raised his wand and traced a languid pattern in the air. "And I've seen just how well others you were determined to kill have faired far too many times." He smiled and flicked his wand at her and suddenly the cage began to reshape around her. Many of the bones fell away, swirling about her in a flurry of ivory hail.

Marcus had long ago adapted his mastery of spirits and bones into more creative uses than simply slaying his foes. He was as capable a craftsman with bone as a master smith or woodcarver and under his will, bone could meld and twist into all the manner of cunning artifice. Smiling like a fiend, he directed a manacles of bone to encircle her deadly, katar, wielding hands, before linking them together with a chain of bone, and letting the floor of the cage fall out from under her. She was quite suddenly left hanging by her wrists from the ceiling, feet dangling a good 5 feet from the floor as more bones wrapped around her forearms, binding her right down to the elbow and allowing her flexibility only in her shoulders. "I can prove to you my intentions, Kalysto." Marcus said, "That I bear you no ill will, and certainly harbor no thoughts of betraying you, or Anion or the others. You are at my mercy now, I could as easily slip a dagger between your ribs as I could summon my minions and have them tear you limb from limb." He approached her slowly, wary of her legs lest she try to kick him. "But I will do neither. Instead, I will show you just how vulnerable you really are, and that I have but one interest in that particular vulnerability."
 
Kalysto grunted as all the pressure came to her wrists. Sure, she didn't weigh much. But 90 pounds on very slender wrists wasn't good. She had a plan to get out of this. And the moment he said vaulnerability she began to worry. Exactly what did he mean. She knew his intentionss were anything but pure. She swollowed a bit and stayed strong. "You know I could still kill you..." She spat. This was more then true. Her legs were as deadly as her hands. Unarmed combat was a specialty. But then again so were the psychic arts.

She let out a psychic blast with her Psychic Hammer, sending him back a few feet. "Try and touch me and I'll rip your throat out with my heels!" She growled. She truly was a very primal warrior in that aspect. She could kill and not think another moment about it. Killing was second nature to her. She knew if he got just close enough sh could drag him in with her legs and snap his neck. It would be self defense, as he had her in a compromising position. Oh how Anion would be on her side now. Her arms stretching above her head made her armored top loose. She cursed under her breath, she should've made it tighter.
 
Temporarily knocked off his feet, Marcus nearly lost his concentration and hold over the bones keeping her in place. Rising though, he was no longer smiling, and had his eyes bore a steely gleam to them; positively predatory. "You'll regret that." He breathed in a hushed tone, arching his hand towards her his eyes glowed briefly with baleful light and suddenly the strength seemed to drain from her body. His spell created in her an intense, tangible delusion of weakness, causing her limbs to ache in strain and sapping her will to exert herself; the very act of breathing seemed a chore as his Decrepify ability sapped at her youthful vigor, replacing it with the feeling of ailing infirmity. Taking the opportunity to stand to his feet, he retrieved his wand and came closer, without fear of retaliation now that she was enchanted by his spell. "Where is your strength now, O Viz-Jaq'taar?" He asked mockingly, brushing the earth from his tunic and prodding her mockingly in her toned abs with his wand. Seeing the loosening of her top, his smile returned and he trailed his wand up from her navel, between over the slope of her breasts and to her neck.

"Seems you dressed rather hurriedly in your efforts to pursue me, how careless." He clucked his tongue as he deftly undid the binding of her armored top, causing it to slide inexorably off of her torso. Deciding not to press his luck, Marcus waved his wand once more, summoning a shroud of darkness which cut off Kalysto from all sights and sounds around her, leaving her alone in her own personal void as he stalked around behind her, and trailed his wand down over her hips and her toned, rounded bottom. "I believe I already mentioned how lucky a man Anion is to have claimed you." he whispered through the veil, the voice seeming to her to echo from all around.
 
As soon as the bones loosened around her hands she broke loose, landing in a fighting stance. But the moment he hit her with a curse. She gasped. Falling to knees. Forcing her to look up at him more so then she would have just standing. She panted softly, feeling extremely over exerted. Something that only happened when she spent eight or more hours training and practicing her martial arts. But now she was simply standing and she felt exerted. She gasped as her top slid off. Looking around as the entire mosoleum turned black. She clenched her fists around the katars, gripping so hard her knuckles turned white.

As he trailed that sicking wand down and over her hips and her backside she made a grab for the wand,but her lack of energy slowed her down considerably. "Yes, Anion is a very lucky man. But he did not claim me, twas I who staked my claim on him before the amazon made a move," Kalysto spat. "We are both lucky. He is a true man. He'd put you to shame..."
 
Marcus drew his wand away from her hand just in time, and spinning it round in the air once more, caused chains of bone to wrap themselves around her ankles. "Oh? I bear our fellow travelers no ill will, but that is a claim I would truly like to put to the test." He responded in a tauntingly, lilting voice before two more chains wrapped themselves around her katar and pulled her forward, off of her feet, burying the twin blades in the earth and denying her further use of her arms. Marcus enjoyed seeing her in such a compromising position and decided to relinquish his spells now that she was suitably bound, facing the earth with enough flexibility so as to raise herself from the ground, either bending over or on all fours. "Tell me Kalysto," He entreated, as the darkness around her faded and he stood in front of her bent form, eye level with his waist. "How does your Anion love you?" His tone was a mocking curiosity, as if observing some beast in a trap, separated from it's mate and nest.

Not waiting for a response, he raised his wand and skeletal hands reached up from the earth beneath her, clawing and pawing at what clothing remained on her body till it began to tear and shred under skeletal claws. A dozen of the grasping hands clutched and prodded and tickled at her toned form in a mockery of a lover's hands on her body, cold and hard against her flesh, adeptly stripping her down before the necromancer's leering eyes.
 
Kalysto cried out as the chains held her down. Holding her on her hands and knees. She was in an extremely compromising position. She didn't like it whatsoever. Yes, she submitted to Anion. But on when they slept together. Otherwise she was a very dominant person. And this simply did not sit well with her. Being in a submissive position in front of this sick bastard. When he heard his question she couldn't help but smirk. But before she could answer skeletal hands bgan tearing at her leather and fur pants. Revealing, that, much like Anion liked to bragged, she looked even better naked. And, save for her head, had not a hair on her body.

Her lack of undergarments left her fully exposed to his greedy eyes. Truth be told Anion had been her first male lover. Before him it had always been women. So this worried her. Jerking on the chains in an attempt to break them she cringed as it caused the bars of her katars to dig deeply into her skin. She glared at the Necromancer. Her ample breasts falling together simply due to gravity. She looked away. Not wanting to look at that bastard.
 
Marcus's hungry eyes devoured her naked form, every flawlessly toned inch of flesh from her delicious, bounteous breast to the supple curves of her hips to the tempting slope of her rear. With her clothing now removed, the skeletal hands began a morbid massage of her flesh, teasing and kneading at her tense muscles, squeezing and working their way over her taught abs, around her thighs and calves, up and over her firm cheeks and all the way up her spine, tickling and toying with every nerve and muscles along the way. Marcus's necromantic studies had given him an intimate knowledge of human anatomy, and he'd performed a number of autopsies, but nothing compared to the sight of watching living flesh respond to direct stimulation, as instinct and anatomy began to assert themselves against her fierce resolve, embarrassment and revulsion. "Don't be so modest." Marcus said, as she looked away, and he moved to her side, trailing his wand lazily down her spine, stopping just shy of her toned rear before delivering a firm strike across her rear with the ornate wand. "Your choice of clothing reveals just how proud you are of your body." If it weren't for the fiendish visage across his features, you would have thought him to be conducting a clinical study of her tender form.

"You say that you were the one to claim Anion, but do you still make that claim sharing his bed?" He asked as he leaned over her from the side and ran a hand through her hair, undoing the ties that held it in place before twisting it around his knuckles and using his hold to tilt her head back, forcing her to look up. "They say the Amazons exert the dominance even in the bedroom, but no such claims are made about the Viz Jaq-taar." He twisted his grip tighter, tugging at her hair not quite painfully.
 
Kalysto glared at him as he took in her body. A feeling of disgusting coming over as the skeletal hands began touching her bare body. The cold hands chilling her to the bone, sending shivers down her spine. She fought the restrains even harder as the hands began to touch all over her body. She cried out when her struck across her backside with his wand. When she was with women, she was dominant, but with Anion , he was the only person to ever make her willing submit. She heard his comments about Amazons and their dominance. And about her claim over Anion.

"You'd have to ask the other assassins I made quiver in pleasure under my tongue just how dominant I am!" Kalysto spat. She made no mention of Anion. Anion was her only male lover, so she had nothing to truly compare to as far as her submission went, but she knew she wasn't going to willingly submit to this corrupt bastard. If he came near enough, she would bite it off. She had threatened many male assassins just the same. That they would not have the pleasure of feeling her willing submission. She'd sooner kill them.
 
Marcus laughed aloud at her bold claim, "I believe I could conduct an entire survey on that count, but at the present, I'm more concerned with what causes you to have so much more trust in him than you do me. After all, he is a mere man as well." He twisted her hair cruelly now, pulling back on it as one might a horses reins as he forced her to look ever upward, towards the shrine. Running his wand down her shivering spine, he dismissed the skeletal hands and they sunk back into the ground, as he conjured a new spell. "Tell me, Kalysto." He asked now, whispering into her ear as he held her head in place by her hair, "Have you ever witnessed how those enemies who strike me know pain themselves? That my magic can reflect harm from my body into their minds and very souls?" His opposite hand had relinquished his wand and was now massaging it's way down her spine as he knelt next to her, letting his hand explore her toned flesh, down to her taught cheeks, caressing over them as Anion had done not even an hour ago.

Though Marcus did not allow the vices of the flesh to trouble him unduly, it had been a long time since he had lain with a woman, let along one of Kalysto's stature, beauty and ferocity, and the act of having her here, in his clutches as he began to explore her body with his hand was quite exhilarating. That same spell which reflected the pain of his foes attacks back on them, was even now sharing that experience, as the growing warmth he felt and rising passion began to well up inside of her as well, a subtle twist on his Iron Maiden spell. "You dominate your foes on the battlefield, your rivals in the dead of night, and the women with whom you share your bed, but not Anion. Why?" He asked huskily as his hand explored further, teasing down to squeeze her thigh.
 
"Because he is a decent man, you are corrupt," Kalytso spat. She cringed when he yanked on her hair. She felt his spell begin to take effect. But she pushed the the feelings away. Feeling his hands caress her firm backside. But his touches could never be like that of Anion. His hands were warm, but very firm. He was rough with her, but not overly so. She herself could not explain as to why she submitted to Anion. It was odd for her. Having never submitted to anyone in her life. But Anion was different in some way, that made her submit to him. Be it the primal force he held within him, or something completely different, she did not know.

She gasped as he squeezed her thighs. Still sensitive from Anion's biting on her thighs only an hour earlier. Her thighs with red marks and light bruises from his teeth playing on her skin. The marks were also present on her ivory throat. She pulled one last time at the chains holding her hands. Cringing as they dug deep enough cause blood to flow from her wrists. Leaving little trails of blood all around her wrist.
 
"So you have said." Marcus replied as his fingers played their way over Anion's love marks, his eyes drawn with a little smirk to the clear evidence of their fierce passion previously this evening. "You think me to be corrupted by the powers I serve, and yet, I display the same goals, ideals and discipline that you do. I daresay if their is anyone even possibly more versed in the arts of death than I amongst our party, it could only be you, Kalysto." His words were all too true, and he spoke them without malice, without loathing for the little death dealer struggling so hard to escape his clutches. He could see her trying to resist the feelings his spell was reflecting upon her, and decided it was time to give her little choice in that matter. His hand on her throat strengthed it's hold, restricting her breathing as his opposite hand began to tease and toy about her femininity, tracing the outline of her flower and raking nails tenderly up and down her thighs, over and across her backside.

Focusing for a moment, he whispered a short spell and hands of clay, warm with the heat of the earth reached up to massage and knead at her swaying breasts, wrapping themselves like living mud around her bosom and rippling most delightfully over her flesh. All this as his own desire for her began to rise, and build within him, a burning desire to feel yet more of her flesh, to see her shiver in pleasure at his touch, and all of it, filling her mind like the most visceral of dreams.
 
Kalysto gasped for air as his grip tightened around her throat, whimpering softly as his fingers began to play with her hyper sensitive femininty. The hyper sensitivity coming from the fact that it had already been taken once that night. Closing her eyes. But her eyes shot open as they clay hands began to play with her breasts. She began meditating in her head. Trying to keep the pleasure from over taking her. She would not give into him. Never. It was not within her spirit to do so. He was everything she loathed.

She focused on anything but him. On the coming battle, they were in the dank outskirts of Kurast. They were fast approashing a battle with Hatred. Mephisto. Thinking of him had to take her mind of him. But it backfired. He was Hatred. And it only made her hatred for the man who was forcing himself upon her burn all the more passionately.
 
Marcus smiled at her whipmerings, at the way she trembled as she grit her teeth against the perversion of her own feelings against her. His fingers toyed at her entrance, running up and down her lips, massaging them against one another, teasing them apart before stroking at her mound as his palm ground in against her petals and bud. "You claim that I am the corrupt one Kalysto. You say my methods corrupt me the way they do our enemies, but what a hypocrisy that is." He whispered to her as he restricted her breathing completely and as the clay hands suddenly began to assault her nipples, creating a warm suction all around her aureoles much like a lover's mouth, but over the entire area of both her breasts at the same time. The oxygen deprivation struck at her ability to meditate yet his steely words seemed to cut through the pain and pleasure and confusion. "I do not know fear or terror, I do not destroy wantonly, and even you who has tried to kill I bear no hatred towards." He said aloud, before allowing her to breath a moment then renewing his hold on her throat.

The bone chains now took their turn as those entrapping her ankles suddenly began to pull themselves apart, forcing her legs along with them, splaying her thighs wide apart as his hand continued it's machinations at her so recently and tenderly loved flower.
 
Kalysto bit her lip, every touch to her sensitive entrance made her body jerk involuntarily. "Stop this! You think the others will allow a rapist to travel with them?" She managed between gasps for air. No matter much her body gave in, her mouth and mind protested. Her body was betraying, this was for sure. His touches around her entrance had begun to moisten her, little by little. His choking was making it difficult to focus on anything else. Whimpering as the clay began playing with her ample breasts. but the chains pulling her legs apart made her cry out. Gripping her katars. She couldn't bear this. Biting her lip roughly, hoping the pain would make her a bit more calm.
 
Marcus paid her words little heed as he felt her body begin to betray her mind, the symptoms of her lust showing through despite the pain and her fierce determination. His fingers felt the first traces of wetness as he teased at her, and he decided it was time he show her just how lost she really was. "Oh, and I suppose it would better for them to travel unaware that their was a cold-blooded murderer in their midst." He retorted triumphantly, "Ready to slit any one of their throats in the night as soon as she got suspicious." His words were biting, nearly as much as the bone manacles which now dug into her ankles, forcing her legs apart as his fingers found further purchase between her thighs and he began to trail a his index finger up and down her entrance, lazily brushing over her clitoris with each pass, and giving it a gentle flick.

The same could not be said for the clay hands accosting her breasts, as they did not relent a moment with their powerful suction, like trying to draw one's foot out of thick mud. They detached themselves from nipples and aureoles with an audible smack, enough to be heard and left a lingering redness.
 
Kalysto looked up at him, with a evil look in her eyes. She blinked, and within that moment he was sent flying back again. A perfectly placed Psychic Hammer to the chest. Feeling her bonds loosen she pulled away and pounced on top of him, her katar to his throat. "Give me one good reason why I should kill you, right here right now?" She said. "You tried to rape me. I don't take to kindly to that...." She pressed the katar in a little, letting him know she was deadly serious.
 
Marcus was in a state of shock, he could barely believe she had managed through pain and oxygen deprivation and lust to blast him again, that psychic hammer left him reeling, and with his bone cage and other spells washing away before him and her blade pressed against his throat, he was left with only one real option, and it wasn't the most enticing one he could think of. Still, despite the position that he was in, it didn't seem to be telling on him a great deal. His smile was still that same impish grin and he had his hands up in the air, but looked like he about to do anything but surrender. "Because you need me." He said, "Forget that I can still maintain my Iron Maiden in this state and that if you kill me you'll almost certainly die too." It was something of a bluff, there were no guarantees he could maintain the spell at his death knell.

"Your efforts to kill me, your tactics in battle, you use them to hunt mages, to strike down the Prime Evils. You justify your actions just the same as my own methods." He replied, "With one crucial difference, you are blind to what makes us similar, to why we all must work together despite our differences." He leaned forward, nearly pressing himself into the blade, "And I know why that is." Suddenly, he raised his arms, causing them to light with baleful fire as the earth around him leapt up cover him in a protective armor of bones. He quickly followed this up with summoning a spirit to enchant Kalysto's mind, causing her greatest fears to suddenly manifest before her very eyes, played out before her like some out of body experience.
 
Kalysto grabbed her head as the nightmares enveloped her. Her screams echoing off the walls of the mosoleum. As her body writhed under the torture of her worst nightmares come to life before her. She lay there, naked, writhing on the mosoleum floor. Her eyes tightly closed and her body quivering. Her screams were getting worse, blood curdling. It was almost too much for ever Marcus. Who should have been used to it.
 
Marcus was on his feet almost immediately, hefting his wand and arching it towards her as skeletal hands suddenly reached out and grabbed her hands at the wrists and her legs at the ankles, pulling and pinning her into a spread eagled position. Mentally, Marcus toned down the intensity of the spell, encouraging those spirits to paint the images simply before her minds eye, rather than fully force the experience of them on her. "Despite your attempts to defer the issue," He began, brushing himself off, and feeling at his neck where a slight trail of blood showed where her blade had been poised to slit his throat. "You have not yet answered my question, Viz-Jaq'taar." With a subtle twist of his wand, the skeletal hands at her wrists began to undo the bindings of her katars.

"Tell me what you see before you, Kalysto. If you cannot answer the questions for yourself, then you will be shown them."
 
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