The skeleton pulled the brand away, heedless of Lokus' screams.
It studied the area with a clinical countenance for a while before, satisfied, it put the brand up and held its hand out. A thick pouch appeared there, and the skeleton wasted no time in loosening the cords that bound its mouth and spilling its contents onto the floor around the table.
A mere gesture was all it took for the powder the pouch produced to settle into the desired shape, a mimicry of the mark that now resided on Lokus' chest. The skeleton snapped, and the rings on the ground flared with power.
The ground below him lit up with an imperial purple glow, adding just enough light to the room for Lokus to see that accursed, grinning skull.
