The prisoner's half-glazed eyes dart over to the kneeling wizard and study him. For a second you can almost see him grappling with a long-forgotten idea. The look of concentration quickly passes as he pulls his feet up onto the throne and stretches out his arms in a gesture of command.
"Yes, yes!" he screeches gleefully, "I am the Mad Marquis, true ruler of Istivin. Bow down before me, imbeciles, before the Dark One smites you down where you stand!" His wild eyes gleam with undisguised menace and arrogance as he gestured for you all to prostrate yourselves.
"I am the way and the portal, I am the Voice of the Master! I alone have walked the ways of the Master! Stupendous and unheard-of splendors await me below, and I shall seek them soon," he gibbers.
"Ia-R'lyehl Cihuiha flgagnl id Ia!" He screams these words and begins to cackle and wail, tears streaming from his inward-gazing eyes, his hands gripping the arms of the throne, knuckles white.