The young boy trembled as the larger man came closer, his strides denoting confidence and strength. He reached on of his large hands and picked Kurtz up by the throat, his grip tight, but not painfully so. His other hand went to the head of the bolt that had pierced Kurtz’ thigh, and with a sharp motion, twisted the arrow hard, sending rivulets of blood and shots of pain.

The stable boy screamed, his voice echoing through the dense wood. “Cry out oh sinner. For She is judgement absolute. Any who offend the Night Queen will feel her wrath, swift and sure. She is night and shadow, fear and anguish. Those who trespass against her will know the most agonizing of deaths.” He bellowed, giving the arrow another twist. “Where is the prize you have stolen, little thief? If you tell me, I shall end this quickly, your crime forgiven by the Goddess, surely. If you intend to resist, I can leave you in a death that will take days, even though you’ll beg for death in the first few seconds.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Kurtz said through his teeth, balancing himself on his good leg as to not suffocate. “I haven’t stolen anything! Let me down!” He fumbled at the arm holding his throat in a vain attempt to free himself, producing no results for his efforts. The arm of the man seemed as hard as iron, his nails seeming to skate off of his skin like glass.

“I know you have violated the sacred tomb, boy. You and your friends attempting to steal the secrets of the Masters. You alone survived correct? I counted three bodies and four sets of footprints.” Quassek said. “You left with the remains of the Corpse God, as they were not in the lower tomb where they should have been sealed. My Goddess wishes for them, and I will deliver. The only question that remains is how much pain must I inflict before you tell me.”

Kurtz paled, the fact that this man knew about the tomb could only mean that he was sent by one of the Disciples, most likely his Goddess and these Masters he kept mentioning. The doom foretold by Namenth’Al was coming to pass, and Kurtz felt like there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Slave, Wake Up! We Have Not Spent This Time Training You To Lose Without Attempting To Fight.” The voice of the ghost rang through his head. “This Man Is Strong, But You Have True Mastery Over Death, Use It, Dolt!”

Feeling for the feeling of emptiness, the deep void in his spirit that connected him and Namenth’Al, he allowed the numbing feeling to fill him. Once full, He extended the feeling towards the man holding him by the throat. Suddenly, a bolt of black lightning arced from Kurtz to the man, causing him to release and knocked him backwards into a tree, the force causing the trunk to crack and splinter.