The bones were tossed back, scattered apart--and as Asimona opened her jaws, the stream of freezing air sparkling with ice engulfed them.
Slowly, as the ice cracked and hissed around them, they froze to the Throne; the magicka around them seemed to flicker, and fade, though not yet entirely.
It seemed clear that another strike might disperse them altogether, and the magic holding them--though what might happen to the magic after that was unclear...
In the numerous trials it endured, Garnet Five-Seven-Nine had seen a great many of things. Unspeakable horrors, the jaws of a sandworm nearly shredding its shell, eyehooks aiming to smash its shell against the rocks. Nothing, though, held such an uneasy feeling as watching a skeleton seemingly reanimate itself and attack someone.
As usual, though, the champion's concerns did not lie with the lives of others (especially not Asimona's.) No, it was considering that there may be another watching. A puppeteer, perhaps, drawing the strings and gripping with a strange magic. If it could spot them before they spotted it, that meant just enough of a better chance for escape.
So, it hunkered down and skulked further among the rocks, moving as quietly as possible and keeping an eye out. A new vantage point could come of this, if nothing else.
The bones, locked in a thick casing of ice, slowly lost their glow.
Whatever the skeleton had been trying to do--if it could be said to have been trying anything--seemed to fade. The color faded, and Asimona and Pride--being close--would both be washed by a strange discharge of magicka.
The bones, even after the ice thawed, would remain inactive.
Pride and Asimona can claim their choice of Jack o' Spawn, Vampiric Gaze, or Witch Cackle in the Update Me thread. The discharge of magicka will leave them unable to learn another of these spells this year.
The champion rounded the back of the throne, hind legs awkwardly bunched underneath itself as it moved. Yet, ruby-red eyes caught most of the proceedings: the strange bone puppetry was felled by ice (rather simple, it doubted the Overseer could be taken down by such methods, if at all) and promptly incinerated to mere plasma.
Garnet Five-Seven-Nine was a bit wary of the antlered being, least to say. It seemed to be strong and capable of many magics. While the champion could run and run, it knew it could not escape a spell's influence. Case in point, the merchant's rather vile method of forcing the survivor's retreat.
If it had even attempted to run, it may have wound up with worse than a seizure upon waking.
Shaking its head lightly and grinding its teeth, the odd little hybrid continued to shuffle to a better vantage point (allegedly. It was really only moving to the other side of the throne), ears pricked like satellite dishes for any following conversation.