Cursed...

Boris was frozen to the spot as the chain lightning leapt from the Witch's right hand. Time seemed slow as it crackled past him and lit up his men with actinic blue light.

They didn't scream.

They didn't have time.

She walked towards him, slowly. Light arced from the bottom of her dress, grounding and burning the grass around her as she approached him.

"I need a survivor. So, tell all those you meet, plains raider. The yellow caravan is off limits. And, if you EVER threaten a child again you will be found. I CURSE you with this knowledge."