Scene VI: The Magus of the Waste
Cursed Spaghetti
Scene VI: The Magus of the Waste
The Figure turned fully, the dark robe swirling around him like ink in water. Bathsheba gasped, not just at the suddenness of the movement, but at the chilling name that Bathsheba had once whispered in a dream: Magus Jaffer of the Waste, a name rarely heard outside of forbidden texts. Only the deep, shadow-casting green hood remained, concealing all features; the only thing visible beneath it were the two malevolent, burning red pinpricks of his eyes.
With a cold, casual gesture, Jaffer hurled the swirling, vaporous blackness—the Grim Reaper's Breath—directly at Bathsheba. It struck her chest like an unseen, physical blow. Bathsheba's eyes went wide, a silent, primal scream trapped in her throat. Her body seized up immediately, and her skin began turning a sickly, mottled grey. Her life essence was slowing draining, pulling her toward the grave, leaving her utterly immobile and helpless.
"No!" Casey screamed, the sound tearing from her lungs, overriding the psychic whine that permeated the air. She snapped out of her shock. Her blade flashed out from its sheath, catching the moonlight in a deadly sheen. She tucked her head and lunged forward, charging the ancient Magus with a wild, desperate cry, ready to strike.
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Scene VI: The Magus of the Waste
Cursed Spaghetti
Featuring
Scene VI: The Magus of the Waste
The Figure turned fully, the dark robe swirling around him like ink in water. Bathsheba gasped, not just at the suddenness of the movement, but at the chilling name that Bathsheba had once whispered in a dream: Magus Jaffer of the Waste, a name rarely heard outside of forbidden texts. Only the deep, shadow-casting green hood remained, concealing all features; the only thing visible beneath it were the two malevolent, burning red pinpricks of his eyes.
With a cold, casual gesture, Jaffer hurled the swirling, vaporous blackness—the Grim Reaper's Breath—directly at Bathsheba. It struck her chest like an unseen, physical blow. Bathsheba's eyes went wide, a silent, primal scream trapped in her throat. Her body seized up immediately, and her skin began turning a sickly, mottled grey. Her life essence was slowing draining, pulling her toward the grave, leaving her utterly immobile and helpless.
"No!" Casey screamed, the sound tearing from her lungs, overriding the psychic whine that permeated the air. She snapped out of her shock. Her blade flashed out from its sheath, catching the moonlight in a deadly sheen. She tucked her head and lunged forward, charging the ancient Magus with a wild, desperate cry, ready to strike.
