While the enemies have fallen, the 4th Company does not grow complacent. They surround the adventurers with a wall of iron bones and steady steel spears, ready to skewer anyone who moves out of line. Clint raises his pretty, uncalloused hands into the air, trembling beneath the wide sleeves of his blood red robes as his staff clatters uselessly to the ground. Stella slowly pulls herself up from the ground, her short-cropped sky-blue hair a tousled mess. When her eyes lock on the crumpled, bleeding form of her leader - her lover - a look of such delicious despair crosses her face that you almost want your skeletons to finish the job and let that be the last emotion she ever feels.

Alas, a priestess is more use to you alive than dead.

"Hold!" you call to your skeletons before they run the fallen adventurers through. In unison, they all come to a halt, the tips of their spears not an inch away from the unguarded flesh of your new captives. "Bind and gag the mage. Shackle the warrior and the ranger, and bring them here."

With efficiency and precision, the 4th Company follows your orders. They bar the arms of the sorcerer behind his back, binding him not only at the wrist but at the fingers as well, lest he try making somatic components of a spell. A spare horse bit gets used for the gag, forced between his teeth and strapped on tightly behind his head. While one squad deals with him, two more shackle the injured men with irons and drag their near-corpse bodies to you and Stella.

Taking the pair from your skeletons, you roughly throw them at the priestess's feet and command her to, "Heal them."

She stares at you in confusion as you walk away, towards where the leader of these adventurer's lay. The tanned woman's breathing has become ragged, the corruption of your blade spreading through her body like wildfire. The priestess hesitates, still processing your command. You ignore her confusion, pulling the leader up by the roots of her crimson hair and dragging her body over to the rest of the group. Only then does the priestess finally think to ask, "What?"

"Did I stutter? Heal them, you useless priestess," you growl at her. "Or are you incapable of even that much?"

"No, I..." she starts, but one glare from your baleful crimson eyes cuts off any backtalk she might have given. Her hands glow with the warm radiance of life magic, stitching the wounds of her comrades together. "Why are you having me heal them?"

"Because I want them to watch," you tell her. With a smooth motion, you undo the clasps of the spellblade's armor, leaving her body exposed. Stella and Clint both make a horrified sound as you roughly grab one of the twin peaks that their 'Big Sis' so arrogantly displayed with that flashy armor of hers. "I want all of you to watch as I punish her defiance, and understand the consequences of opposing the Empire."

Another motion unclasps your codpiece, and when she sees your intention, Stella can only say: "What the fuck?"