"It is the nature of the Dragon's blood to desire control," said Zhaojun dreamily, raising up to her full height amidst a storm of sapphire wind. "They order the world according to their patterns, driving chaos to the periphery, bringing princesses under their Dominion, and their nations with them. And just like them, here you come noble warrior! Just as the Dominion seeks to yoke the Flower Kingdoms so you take from me my mistress, my slave and my prey."

She twirls the firewand in her fingers. A one shot weapon; it would take over a minute to reload. The mask is blank as ever yet its eyes contain a furnace. And with a flick, she opens her outer robe, revealing the secrets tucked inside her concealing garments.

Firewands.

Dozens of them.

She laughs as she fires, a massive and spectacular gout of fire blasting out across the deck of the ship, catching fast into the timber. The powder ignites matter and magic both, filling the sky with billowing bluegreen sparks. As soon as the weapon runs dry she tosses it aside, and in the same gesture snatches the next one from its pocket. Even dragons must pause to inhale; not her! With this arsenal she can burn brighter than even they! 

Aiming is a distant secondary concern. Everything is to be fire. The ship, the mast, the forest, her foes. This is what she wants. This is what she wants, deep down. To burn hotter and brighter than this shipload of false dragons and insufficiently impressed princesses might ever dare. 

[i]"Once, there was a maiden,"[/i] Zhaojun trilled. 
[i]"Who walked amongst lords and ladies. 
Gods and demons. 
Spies and sorceresses. 
Dragons and princesses.
None of them could see her, even as she lit the match. 
"Love blinds," she said."[/i]

[Inflicting a condition on Piripiri in return.]