Tyaethe paid the lightning user minimal heed, slamming her sword in the way and glaring at the necromancer. The bolt crashed into the mighty blade and... failed to do any harm to the wielder. The handle was wrapped, after all: gripping bare metal was a terrible idea when it would inevitably get slick with swear (though sticky blood could balance that out).

The paladin clamped down on her anger for the moment, keeping the returning glow dim, and issued the more important one with an ultimatum: "Necromancer, surrender or be cut down. Your crimes against the goddesses are vast but there remains a chance to redeem your soul before the crown decides your fate. Both you and your accomplice are further charged with conspiracy to murder."

He wouldn't accept it. They almost never did, and even then it was usually a trick. But every second they spent talking was one where her arm could regain more functionality and once [i]that[/i] was healed, she could finish them. Someone else might even make it down. Plus, once they had their eyes on her...

Imperceptibly, as she couldn't get any more tense, Tyaethe prepared to spring.