Malevolent magics, dark and terrible, swirls around Ixis Naugus with licks of fire and whorls of mist. The gem on the end of his staff, held firm in his claw, glows bright and flickers with its own unworldly, purple flame. He approaches the fallen Amelia with steady purpose, blood coating one half of his face and oozing down his left side. He has no mind for his wounds right now.

When he his nearly upon the rogue, there's a snarl and another sharp gesture with his hand, the earth rumbling around her once more to snap and form stone-hewn shackles around her wrists. Pinning Amelia to the floor so she cannot attack or retaliate when he reaches down for her.

Ignoring any violence attempted against him or his bindings, or any protests upon completion, Naugus snatches the silver pin from her hair. Equally uncaring if any hair is yanked along with it.