[spoiler]well then. Rip.[/spoiler] Through the mark, Noiratrom could tell of Feryun's intentions. His mission to assassinate him. The Mark on Feryun's hand began to burn, searing into his flesh. The pain was so great that it made the sorcerer drop his sword and fall to his knees. The suffering of betrayal burned throughout his body, embering him to his very core, rending his flesh asunder. There was nothing he could do. His powers were blocked by the mark. Not even his precious Tzeentch could save him. All the lord of change could do was watch as his Sorcerer died in vain, with a pain that would have made even Slaanesh turn away in disgust. The Sorcerer's soul poured through the burning pores of his skin and into the air, to be absorbed by Noiratrom, adding to his power yet again. Of the mighty Feryun, all that remained was an ashen statue at the entrance of the palace, on his knees. Blown by a soft wind, the ashes fell apart and spread out, empty. His soul had been consumed by the chaos lord. The same fate came of his sword. The souls it had swallowed now belonged to Noiratrom, adding to his ever increasing power. [spoiler]shouldn't have let yourself get marked.[/spoiler]