[color=92278f][i][h1][center]Aedyt, Prisoner of Radush Eye-Drinker, Princess of Ceril[/center][/h1][/i][/color]

As she was finishing her final sentence, Aedyt could feel the head-rush coming on: a feeling like you get standing up for the first time after 4 beers. She was on her own from the magic, and lucky to be still upright. Not that it seemed to be affecting much anyway: this brute had an iron will. He began to respond, speaking of a price not in gold, and a blood oath... and bunnies for some reason? He seemed to be referencing her.

[i]well fuck you too[/i] she thought, angering at his mistrust, worried at what this “witch” would do to her. “I offered no paper contract to begin with!” she snapped before regaining her composure. “And those who would offer that before their word are the first to turn their backs on the contract, find any reason for it to not be fulfilled, for their word holds no value to begin with.” 

Taking a moment longer of silence to reflect, she considered the amount of false deals, lies, and broken promises through which this beast had struggled, trying to make a living. Distasteful as he might be, he had a right to honesty, and she could respect his intent to protect his men.

“I do, however, respect your desire to protect those in your charge, in desiring a fair deal, guaranteeing it in your ...own... way.” She considered, shuddering a bit at the prospect of that to which she could be agreeing. “We shall see what these oaths entail, when the time comes. In the meantime, what was Scumbag Arad’s price to you, hm?”

While waiting for his response, Aedyt continued to survey her surroundings, observing the fight in action. The army certainly was organized – looked better than some of the groups training at the castle. Without the darkvision of the Orcs, much was in shadow and hard to see, but she spotted in fits and starts the group of swordsmen moving in close, the sparkle of the armor in the main ranks of both sides, and noticed a particularly... poorly dressed? ... Orc woman begin to stand out in the fighting crowd, a picture of elegance, terrifying in the dark night. Tearing at her own flesh, and seemingly dancing with the pain, she approached upon the enemy ranks. She was terrifying, imposing, and...

Tantilizing?