You have beaten my brothers, no mean feat. Killed with your bre hands? Very droll. I have done such myself. Ask our dearly departed brother Katreyvan. Huskyeys are not much more difficult.
*She spits.*
Ask the mute.
*She places a hidoeous war hekmet over her head, it's workable jaw showing her deadly fangs. It is a helmet Nightfall recognizes all too well, the last she had seen it was upon the severed head of Kharck BenDragon. Aside from that she wears a light steel cuirass, cruelly elegant, designed to follow the curves & contours of her body. Bound in her belt is the shimmering silver-scaled whip of Katreyvan, the thick hide interwoven with thorns. At each hip rests a scabbard, in one the White Sword, in the other the Sword Of The Dragon. She makes a line in the dirt with her clawed gauntlets.*
First one to cross that line is sucked bone-dry. Where are Loroch & Laraida?
