Hands on his hips Tablurath watched the arrival of the woman he assumed to be Rodetta the Red herself. The breeze picked up as the sun began to dip to their west, casting the horizon in a deep blood red. Befitting given his opponent Tablurath thought privately. The skies holding few clouds that drifted lazily in the wind. A single lady bug buzzing between the two, and a small beetle scurrying beneath a rock a few feet away as if sensing the coming violence and wanting no part of it. These things were as plain as day to the highly perceptive Ryllan general. If not for the filters on his mask, Khazna might have smelled the pine dashed with the faint hint of rot that was heavy in the air; no doubt the result of the corpses of those who had died here.
Did your commander promise you a bonus for my head? It takes money to motivate most to take me on by themselves, especially in a pointless conflict like this....
Tablurath inclined his head. “Money? Pointless?” The man only chuckled. Seeming to find amusement in the women's words. He waved a finger in the air as if admonishing a child. “Oh, I fear you are quite wrong on both accounts. But never mind all that. The important thing here is you have a simple choice before you. I’d like to think I’m not completely void of compassion. So, I’ll give you this one chance to surrender.”
“If not, well.” He carefully drew his twin swords, pulling them back with a flourish ruffling the edges of his cape back. Their blades gleaming in the setting sun. "I’ll have to put you down. I’m not one to waste lives if it can be avoided. So I’d say it would be in your best interest to lay down your arms.”
He kept his arms wide, both blades pointed at the ground at either side. “A part of me though, hopes you refuse,”
“So, your answer?” he remained still, roughly twenty feet away in a neutral stance. As if mocking her.
