A constant outpouring of ghastly power blew forth from Indris in all directions, and Marcus gritted his teeth as he bore the obscene pressure crashing against him.
Eyes hardening, he endured the terror clawing at his heart and struggled against the insidious words seeping into his soul; words telling him to run, to turn and flee.
His frown deepened.
'What sorcery is this?! How can the first person we're able to interact with in this gods forsaken place emanate such evil!!!'
For months, they had wished to find a native race with enough aptitude to attempt communication, but all they've found were beasts, man-eating plants, and little demons.
They had suffered too much against the forest, and Marcus reasoned that if not for the assistance Maximus, Legate of Flavia Felix had sent them halfway here, they would have suffered way worse.
He still remembered, clear as day, that he had laughed at first when he first met them, two young Germanic women. He wondered how Maximus, the legate he respected, who had once successfully led the legion that he now stood at the helm of, thought two dainty little girls could help him do.
However, he held in his harsh remarks when he learned that they were Maximus' daughters, deciding, in the end, to humor them.
It was a decision he still found himself fortunate to have made, for they had turned out to be better help than any of his esteemed officers ever could!
Unfortunately, the sisters had to return days prior to go receive their mother, who was said to be arriving soon to help.
He didn't know what mother was lucky enough to birth and train such talented girls, but he knew he would definitely want to meet her someday.
If the girls were still here he felt they would have handled things better, maybe communicated soothingly with this powerful witch... Not him, though; he was on the edge without the girls. He felt even worse under the gloom the fumes cast upon the skies, but he knew he had to be strong. For himself and for his men; for this was the last stretch before they could return home.
Feeling that the woman couldn't be reasoned with any longer, he made a secret hand signal behind him which his officers caught.
Marcus looked at Indris and extended a palm.
"Wait! Let us discuss terms!!!"
At that, she turned down slightly, as though to hide her expression, and even though she was far away, Marcus was able to catch the slight smirk cracking up her pale, moribund face.
"Only a fool holds counsel with the dead." She ominously muttered.
A dark, malignant circle began swirling on the ground around her, pushing away the dirt. When Indris raised her head again, her eyes had turned wholly black.
Marcus inwardly cursed.
He didn't know what was about to happen but he didn't feel it was necessary to see it enacted.
Glancing back, he saw that his men had gotten in place behind him, and when he turned back to Indris he saw that she had begun chanting in a strange language that intensified the gloomy aura exponentially.
"Nimoy lay fagea—"
"Slingers! Now!"
Marcus suddenly yelled and dove to the ground. Behind him, several lightly armored men in red tunics had stepped up and were now swinging their slings around.
At once, they shot their slings toward the sickly looking woman and they tore through the air, instantly reaching her before she could react.
*Bang!* *Crack!* *Splat!*
The rocks broke ribs and arms with one landing bullseye, and sank into her forehead as blood and grey matter sprayed out.
She trembled slightly and crumbled to the floor. The dark energy swirling around her quickly dissipated outwards, and the ghastly aura disappeared.
The high priestess lay motionless on the ground with eyes bereft of life.
Seeing this, Marcus let out a sigh of relief and stood up. This was an idea of one of the girls, a chirpy girl who talked a lot. She had mentioned it in one of her ramblings, but thankfully, he had learnt to respect their insight and secretly communicated it to his officers.
In such a restrictive terrain where traditional Roman strategies proved astonishingly lacking, they had to improvise, using whatever tactics to gain an advantage without the loss of life.
Seeing that, the witch was dead, Marcus' eyes held a faint regretful light. However, he shook his head and turned his attention back to the structure, deciding that investigating the unique ruin was more important than, searching around for other natives.
His brows furrowed faintly.
He was beginning to have a bad feeling, he needed to be done with this and leave.
However, when he looked up the stairs his eyes widened.
A young woman was sitting cross-legged at the top, resting her face on a palm with an intrigued smile.
For a moment, his heart skipped a beat thinking it was the same witch, as this one also wore a dark cloak. However, looking closer, they looked different, and this one even had hair, a long, flowing, dark hair that cascaded down over the hood onto the stairs.
Seeing that she had finally been noticed, her smile widened and she raised her arms to clap faintly but rapidly.
"Wow! Congrats! You did it!"
She celebrated in a rich, girly tone and stood up before excitedly walking down the stairs.
"When High Priestess Veylor instructed me to secretly come assist Indris, I felt it was unnecessary. Haah~ just another soulless task..."
She held her face in dismay, but when she looked down at Marcus and his men, her smile pulled back up.
"But who would have thought there would be guests. Oh... Haha! I should have brought gifts!"
She chuckled, but just as she was about to approach Indris lying on the ground, Marcus frowned and snapped at her.
"Halt!!!"
"Ah!"
She flinched and stopped, looking at him with shock. Then she frowned slightly, pouting.
"Sheesh! You scared me! How could you yell like that all of a sudden? Uncouth brute!"
Marcus hesitated at the cute reprimand but soon steeled himself.
"Do not approach the witch girl. I need to know you are not a threat."
He warned, however, he found himself speaking gently against his intention to be severe.
Hearing this, the young woman giggled.
"Oh little ol' me?! Against an army? Ha! Do not fret. Unlike her, I will not hinder your passage outerworlders."
Marcus squinted suspiciously.
"You will not? Wait! Stop!"
Against his warning, the young woman did a little hop toward the corpse and pulled out the crown of black thorns from Indris's head.
Marcus's eyes dangerously hardened, and he stepped forward threateningly.
"I told you to stop! Do you want to die as well!!"
He threatened, however, the young lady brushed it off with a roll of her eyes and smirked.
"I am guessing there is a lot you wish to know. It would be folly to strike me down."
Hearing this, Marcus' grip on his gladius lightened, and he calmed himself with a deep sigh.
Seeing this, she nodded and observed the crown with interest as she spoke.
"Well, now. I feel I should introduce myself... I am Priestess Ozzy, Keeper of Death's Face."
Then she placed the crown on her head and beamed at Marcus.
"But I guess I've just been promoted. You have my thanks. Teehee!"
She grinned, striking a small pose.