[color=peru][center][h3]Weaves[/h3][/center][/color]
	The too-tall woman looked back down as the man who'd once tried to kill or capture her let out a hollow laugh. Others were laughing, too, and others still were shouting madly. Apparently, Weaves concluded that it was appropriate for her to join in and added to the cacophony of insanity with her own childlike, echoing giggle—a contender for the most cliche horrifying sound one might hear while alone in the woods. She jabbed her oversized needle-staff into the ground, hunching over as she did so—a natural habit she'd built living under the low ceilings of the Maw, but one that made her look a bit like an unwashed forest witch stirring a pot of boiled humans, or other unspeakable substances.

	The nature of her magic soon became apparent as her Marrow—appropriately named, as it was pale as a bone and macabre besides—began to glow with a moon-like light as it sucked life itself from the ground, causing grass and flowers to wither and die, and insects to be silent as the grave. [color=peru]"My name, as I told for the tongue of man: 'Weaves-in-Shade.' To whit I weave; life, death, and flesh."[/color] After creating a sizeable crater of dead foliage—a veritable crop circle, even—the strange and otherworldly being that called itself "Weaves" lifted her staff to the skies, and out from its sharpened tip poured an absolutely deafening, massive swarm of buzzing, stinging hornets.

	The furious pestilence descended upon the force of men unfortunate enough to be named an enemy in her presence. Their advance could not be stopped by sharpened steel, and their persistent and invasive stings cared little for even the most tightly packed links of chainmail or plates of armor. For all it mattered, the wyvern could have breathed fire, and their numbers would still be sufficient to incapacitate its rider. The beast could continue to rampage, but it would do so without human direction—as would the rest of the men, incidentally.

	Weaves cracked a wide smile as their captain thrashed about in a useless struggle, the hornets having clearly invaded his helmet at the very least. His tormentor briefly glanced around at her allies, her smile not unlike that of a child seeking approval from her peers. Then, she wandered off into another patch of vibrant flora, seemingly content to continue her assault of profane magic from behind the front lines, watching the leaderless human force split between continuing their advance towards the enemy, and struggling to subdue a very angry reptile as she prepared her next "batch" of horrors. [color=peru]"Do not do to fear friends, fort I've marked you, so. Thou'rt safe, so as amongst the hornets,"[/color] she said, apparently satisfied with her explanation that the hornets wouldn't attack her allies... probably?