Balomew
Active Member
12th of Sun's Height 4E 201
The terra-cotta Suthay took the hilt of the sword hesitantly, setting her bow and drawn arrow on the ground beside the giant, looking downwards at the unfamiliar one-hander. She turned her head up and looked straight at Baroth, her grip tightening around the hilt. "Thank you," she told him, her voice lowered to keep the conversation private. The quiver she felt in her bones was not present in her voice. Straining to avoid embarrassing herself, she turned toward the giant and walked around its curled body until she was facing its head, sideways with one side to the ground.
She crouched and looked across at it, as it looked across at her. She wasn't sure if Baroth was watching, or Tsee-Keth for that matter. She found herself wanting to say something. She leveled the blade at its eye and paused, considering her words. The giant might have had a reason for attacking her kin, but she didn't much care. She had heard a story outside the gates that a particular clan held an intense dislike for the scent of skooma. Atahbah had been struggling to stay off of the potent drug; perhaps it had sensed this and gone wild, or perhaps there was another reason.
Regardless of it, she did not respect its actions, how quickly it turned to mass violence, even if it had no control over itself. "No more," she told the creature, shoving the blade into its eye, turning her face away as she did so. She felt the sword push through layers of flesh and other organic material; it sent a shiver through her spine that spiked the fur on the back of her neck. And then she drove it back out again, and got to her feet, not daring to look at the wound. She walked up to Baroth, holding out the sword as he had done for her, as the he breathing of the massive humanoid behind her slowed and then ceased altogether.