Morturion gestured in greeting and respect to Dieter and Roland, then turned to the foolish mortal knight. The necromancer had to admit to himself that he was having difficulties with his killing priorities. Who should be ended first: Kraskor, Faust or this boy? It was quite a hard decision to make, so Morturion resolved to slaughter them in quick succession. Though that would stop their deaths from being slow, thus reducing their pain...ah well, I could always experiment on their spirits later.
Morturion replied to Kavok's question, "Something you could not grasp," in a scornful voice, before turning to the werewolf again with a smile. "How many times have I heard that phrase?" His face became angry. "You definitely haven't told us everything you know. You've told us what you don't mind us to know. You must have had some contact with chaos or its agents - a voice in your head, a pawn of chaos trying to enlist you in their army, a fanatic telling you to rise up. After all, you have been tainted by it - that's at least one encounter with it, even if it was only your birth. You could tell us of your meetings with it. Or you could face the consequences of not doing so."
"Besides, your story is more ludicrous than many I have heard from those I have previously questioned. A werewolf? Working for the Kislevites? Most likely a lie, and a bad one too. Though, if perhaps you have told the truth, of which there is a very small chance, then you could tell us more about the Kislevites themselves. They haven't exactly been inclined to favour undead, and they are close to the vampire we wish to ally with - so you might as well tell us of their plans, if you received direct orders from the Tzsarina. Why would she send you to Sylvania in the first place?" Morturion laughed bitterly. "You must be deranged."
"However, I have received information from senseless lunatics before. I didn't spend hundreds of years with insane necrarchs in Nagashizzar for nought, did I? There many ways I can loosen your tongue, so I'd advise you to speak up now, before I do the job for you." Morturion stepped forward, and his armour crawled over his frame like a disease, leaving only his face uncovered. The black shards flashed, warning the necromancer not to step any closer, but not attacking him - being the caster of the spell, he was able to will them not to hurt him. There was still a boundary between the wolf and the necromancer, but someone within would presumably be able to see and hear Morturion quite clearly now, and vice versa for the necromancer.