I am not a quiet man, but I was silent enough to close in on the furball, and chaos, more importantly the mutated witch. Soon as I was close enough I reached out with my mind, a calculated risk, and found her delicate throat, and I gripped it. She choked , and as I gripped it, I telekenetically lifted her off her feat six inches, a foot, two feet, six feet, and squeezed even tighter.

The wife had finally lost patience with Akardi, and had stabbed him in the throat. She was coming after me. As she did, I took a fencers stance with my hand, and a half sword taking the inner circle posture guarding my self making quick, and efficient parries, and repasts

The mutated witch, the lead witch was turning blue, her lips turning black as she made horrid croaking gagging sounds her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Eventually there was a cessation of her struggling. Now any normal warrior would likely release his hold on the mutated. Well I'm not that nice, and I wasn't about to take chances, and I squeezed even harder. I felt the cartilage of her throat crumple under my grasp.

I kept squeezing!

A light thrust cut the wife's inner thigh my fight with her was won, I still kept my fencers pose and guarded against her strikes. Each of her strikes were slower than the last, and eventually she collapsed, bled out, and pale, cold in a few hours.

Now for the lead witch, the mutant. I walked back to her still dangling in the air, her face, and neck all manner of different colors. I raised her a few extra feet into the air, then released my telekinetic grip. She crumpled to the ground, and I heard her legs snap like dry wood. Then the only way to make sure she was dead, was a quick vorpal snickersnak seperating her head from her body.