When her swing hit nothing, Izzy feared she had miscalculated when they would meet, but as she righted herself, she saw that Theurge had stopped, his blades raised in surrender.
	She eyed him for a moment, wondering if it was a trick, then slowly lowered her giant club as he voiced the reason behind his action. Triumph blossomed in her chest.
	Standing tall, she stared him down... or up, depending on how you wanted to look at it, like a mouse staring down a lion. She kept one hand gripped on the roller, just in case, and cast his still bladed arms a couple wary glances.
	“My prize, then?” She raised her chin slightly, her face stern.