[i]Tauga applied the thin knife one more time to the haft of the polehammer, then again to the tip of her tongue. It drew blood. She smeared it over the head.

[color=antiquewhite]"Atacartes racta, taka linsa gg Tauga hai,"[/color] she recited, gripping the point. It shuddered in her hand. She forced it to be still. A part of that shudder carried into her, replacing in her an unnameable part of herself just as the force of her grip replaced a part of the steel.

She stood, once more hefting its weight. It balanced perfectly in her hand. It always had, but only at her volition. Now she seemed unable to lose her grip on it. She swung the sacred weapon and leveled a crystal sprouting eight feet away. Its shards clattered on the cavern floor.

She picked one up and pitched it at the roof, examining the wyrm tunnel's outer wall by its light. In some other places, and here, the dark labyrinth penetrated the natural caves of Vakarlon, and did not stop for them. A sufferer in the tunnels could wander straight through a mighty chasm the size of a mountain and never know there was anything beyond the sickly walls but solid rock. 

Tauga tapped the hammer on the stone. She listened to the echo. There was no wear on the haft of the executor at all. She knew that, even though she hadn't checked.

[color=antiquewhite]"This will make them respect me."[/color]

[colour=f6989d]"False. It will only familiarise you. Tauga must rely on her own-"[/colour]

[color=antiquewhite]"Yeah, I know,"[/color] she said, stepping towards the tunnel. [color=antiquewhite]"I wasn't asking."[/color] She spun the hammer above her head without thinking and demolished a crystal with each end. Quartz as old as time and thrice as tough shattered like sugar at her strength. [color=antiquewhite]"This is what I meant. Run me through that one more time."[/color]

[color=f6989d]"Throughout their lives, Grotlings accumulate prestige through warcraft. Military success is the measure of worth. Elder veterans are revered. Gods considered spirits of strength. Perpetual campaign provides means of development towards utopia. Grotlings wish to achieve supremacy so as to advance all subservient races."[/color]

[color=antiquewhite]"Perfect."[/color] She turned to the waiting worm. [color=antiquewhite]"And what do you intend to play?"[/color]

[color=f6989d]"Heartworm plays the role of Vosh. Internal operator culture is underdeveloped. They will follow a superior."[/color]

[color=antiquewhite]"Alright. And I've gotta introduce myself as Tauranga. Right?"[/color]

[color=f6989d]"Tauga's birth name is guttural. Phonetically appropriate."[/color]

[color=antiquewhite]"And you?"[/color]

Heartworm made a sound.

[color=antiquewhite]"...Prshv... Pzhuvra?"[/color] Tauga raised an open hand. [color=antiquewhite]"Nobody with a tongue's going to pronounce that, Heartworm."[/color]

[color=f6989d]"They don't have to,"[/color] the worm replied.

[/i]