Will is the controlling force in all masteries, especially those of the arcane arts. Adolphus had a singular command of his own will, he'd survived the years plying his so-called trade in the subtle ways, some of his kind flitted from lofty barren fortress to the highest circles of society, some summoned hordes of shambling zombu or skeletons to ravage the world of men. He'd once crossed wits with a singularly enthralling young enchantress that had taken a unique angle on her darker powers.<br/>She'd summoned the shades of the recently departed and forced them into submission, most of their kind would have done it through enforcement of will or maybe enscorcelled bindings. She'd done it through fear and pain. The two universal constants. She'd dragged their last moments from their corpses eyes, and built a mental image of the pain they endured. She'd bound the spirits in a simple warding circle and every time the spirits had raged at their bonds she'd thrust the memories of death and pain into their minds. She repeated this until they eventually caved to the simple but effective torture, but her crowning achievement had been in the way she'd bound their loyalty. From within the warding circle, the spirits had been unable to detect her or the worlds beyond it.  When the spirit had finally relented and begun to give into the torture, she stepped within the circle dressed in a costume appropriate to the occasion. To the feral warrior spirit she came as a shieldmaiden, or to the wine merchant she was the serving girl and to the Prince, she'd been a courtesan all offering the same thing. She offered them a way out, she seemed to actively help them. So simple, that the jailer becomes the rescuer. It'd been a shame how the encounter between her and Adolphus had been forced to come to an end. She'd been powerful beautiful and a refreshing change to the norm but she'd been mortal, and mortals die. She had died screaming.<br/>Tonight Adolphus was forced to do something he loathed, he was forced to call upon the gift of his bloodline, to channel the winds of magic, for that is how his mind perceived them, winds of various hues drifting through the world of men, and like the captain of a ship all he had to do was set his sails correctly to harness and channel those winds to his own gains. Like a captain of a ship, he required a crew to set some of those sails. In this regard, he had his 14 acolytes a mix of young men, taken as children, each for their innate sensitivity to either the winds or to the dead. Two of the oldest of his little coterie were barely 21 summers old twin blind young men, physically fit and strong but shunned by their hometown as a burden on them. Adolphus had taken them in their infancy, they were fanatically loyal now. Some of his little group were more willing than others, most were aspiring to his position or hoping that he would grant them the dark embrace. He found their ambitions pitiful and pathetic. None of them were more than tools, not even close to becoming his equal.<br/>The cavern he'd chosen for tonight's events had been hollowed out by the elements over millennia, a wide high arched ceiling dotted with stalegtites curved down into wet dripping walls that'd been augmented with sconces holding burning braisers. The floor of the cavern had been scrubbed meticulously clean, Adolphus believed completely that the winds would take the path of least resistance, and that they could be filtered or guided by certain criteria. As he'd required the darker elements for what he wanted he'd need to take aspects that would normally repulse and revile most magic users. Tabboo was a powerful force with the dead, want to enrage a spirit? Defile its grave or its body. Likewise, sympathy is also a great way of attaching your target to the effect you want. Many know of the voodoo doll or the effigy style magic, but what is better than a simple image of the target.... a piece of them. Hedgewitches use hair or small pieces of skin. Charlatans.<br/>Adolphus had been dressed in a simple tunic that barely came to his knees his coterie were all naked and scrubbed raw until they were meticulously clean. He took a position in the centre of the circle they'd formed, all fourteen of them abased themselves on the floor around him. He raised his arms above his head and his two blind twins rose from their prostrate positions, and within moments were slowly undressing their master revealing his alabaster pale skin in the torchlight. Adolphus began a chant, a language that hadn't been designed for the human tongue, but he spat out the syllables as the twins withdrew to the edge of the cavern slowly returning with a pair of onyx boxes. These boxes were coffins of sorts, a jumble of bones taken over the years from notable targets, former princes or warlords. Powerful men and women long dead. He wanted to drag their spirits back from beyond the veil and use them for his own devices but first, he had to get them here. The chanting was taken up by his 12 remaining devotees. The two boys stood before him at less than a pace away, he reached into the first box and retrieved a tibia, a thick gnarled yellow bone, and rudely snapped it in two, leaving him with two sharp ended bits of bone.<br/>"Come to me my children". the boys stepped forwards and with a fluid move Adolphus stepped forwards to meet them, the splintered ends of the bones were forced into the two young men's groins. "And it begins"