Boom! Crack! Kaeri scatter like ninepins, too quick and clever to be caught by even the Nemean’s sudden onrush. All save Lorventi. The halberd is pulled from her hands, the haft snapping like wet wood under those powerful fingers. When the head strikes the floor, it sinks down low until its terrible heat no longer suffices to melt— too low to be retrieved.

And that’s when the wrestling starts. The Nemean is Redana, if a different sort of Redana, and so she loves wrestling: the strain of muscles, the planting of feet, the throw and the crush. Lorventi tries a dozen approaches in the space of a breath and the Nemean shrugs each one aside. Claws drag uselessly down her underarmor, every attempt at a grapple or hold is broken with a flex of muscles and a husky, dangerous chuckle.

[b]Alexa,[/b] however, will note that there is a flaw in the way that the Nemean fights, like a missing scale on a dragon’s belly. What is it? How will it mean her doom if the Kaeri focus on her and her alone?

[The Nemean rolls a [b]9[/b] to finish Lorventi, and I toss the energy back to Alexa.]