Viska slides forward to meet him at incredible speed, twisting to avoid one ray, another contacting her flesh and fizzling into nothing from her natural magical resistance.

"Quite likely." Viska growls.

This time, swords simply wouldn't cut it. It was time to kill the mage the way mages should be killed. She passes him to the right, coming around and encircling Aeryn with her snakelike body. Within a split second, the coils tighten, constricting the poor mage with muscle and sharp scale, threatening to choke off his oxygen supply, and leave him helpless.

OOC: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG! FILLS… BRAIN… WITH… HURTING!!!!!!!
I am SO not gonna read all that. Therefore, I shall put in some humour. I DID say I was gonna lay low.
Bic:
All throughout the duration of the life-and-death battle endured by Aeryn and Viska, Myrra was engaged with her own battle for words and spells to use on the ever-increasingly annoying Tiral. Just flaunting out of reach, the winged eyeball was literally poking a rather forked tongue out at her, though how it looked completely defied logic.
“What’s the matter, Farty? Out of words already?” Tiral scoffed gleefully when Myrra couldn’t choose the right word to describe him in the most despicable way ever. A minor fireball made Tiral swing nimbly out of the way.
“HAH! I knew you were gonna do that!” Tiral squealed, before facing an eye-full of ice shards that shredded him where he hovered.
“Note to self,” she muttered with an exasperated sigh, “make sure that the fricken eyeball is in an antimagic-field cage next time he respawns.”

Aeryn realized he was in severe danger, if he couldn't breathe, he couldn't cast. If he couldn't cast, he would die...or worse.

He managed to choke out the words of an Iron Body spell, and the need to breathe vanished...his body becoming similar in composition to that of a golem. He grinned fiercely, his voice strong and clear despite the blood (which now looks like liquid metal) that still dripped from his shoulder, he chanted a spell designed to paralyze Outsiders, and followed it with one that sent a thin, green, pernicious ray of magic darting at her from his fingertips.

Viska stopped abruptly as her quarry suddenly turned into a metal statue, uncoiling him and preparing for the killing blow, but at that very moment, she stopped. It most certainly wasn't voluntary, because as much as she willed her weapons to rend and tear the mage into confetti, they simply wouldn't respond.

"Curse you and your paralyssiss ssspellss." she telepathically curses, at Aeryn.

Trying desperately to break the spell, Viska really didn't expect it to be so painful. Apparrently the sonic spells had done more damage than she had expected, easily underestimated do to her lust to kill. She took a moment to look at herself, and found she was covered with her own blood.

"Imposssible!" she hisses, disbelievingly, "I refusse to be defeated by thiss... thi...ssss..." as Aeryn's green beam hit her, it became hard to do just about anything, not just move and resist spells.

Aeryn hadn't expected his spell of paralysis to work, but grinned wickedly as the Disintegration ray hit her. Her constitution was stong, and she wasn't turned into a pile of green dust by the blast, but it dealt damage nonetheless...eating into her snakelike coils.

He shook himself free of her snakelike constricting, stepping back, and picking up his staff from where he had dropped it. Pointing it at her, he asked in a calm voice, "Do you yield, or shall you die?"

"Arrggh!" Viska growl-hissed, also giving a psychic scream that startled the dretches in the background, and probably startled Aeryn too. The disentigration spell hit low, and although it failed to slay the greater deamon, it certainly did not go out without doing severe damage.

"F... Fine! You beat me! now... Now let me go!" Viska says, almost startled and disbelieving at the mage's power.

The young mage laughed cruelly, caressing her cheek, "And our agreement...?"

Though he had also been surprised by her abilities, impressive even for one of her powerful kind, and he knew better than to free her until the magically-binding contract had been signed.

Viska would have recoiled, if it were possible. "Yess... I agree." she says silently, embarrassed by losing to a mere mortal.

"He is far too strong for his own good! I should have been given orders to kill him, long ago! He may be strong, but agaisnt my army?! Not a chance!" Viska angrily thinks to herself.

The Marilith coughed blood, wanting to collapse, but being unable to, held in place by the paralysis spell. Her wounds seemingly weighing more and more the longer after the battle, strangely enough, considering they should be regenerating by now...

He grinned, turning away and releasing the spell, but remaining on guard against a potential attack, "So...what is your true name? I can't call you Za'rel anymore, not in private, anyway..."

He began looking over the items on the overturned table, the Dretches continuing their mindless activity as he approached.

((Actually, the dretches are mindless, fearless, and can't communicate verbally. IE: Too stupid to back off.))

"You know I cannot give you my real name." Viska states, trying to prop herself up on one of her larger swords.

"Not good enough!" Aeryn yells, thrusting his staff at her. (I'm pretty sure that's what you'd do.)

"Viska. Iss my name, if you are sso keen to have it." She reluctantly gives in, still visibly humiliated by being dominated by a mortal.

The dretches slink back as Viska orders them away mentally, slowly shambling away from Aeryn.