The fodder they threw at her was an insult, but she killed them anyway because she was a dutiful girl like that. She was rewarded with this diligence when reflecting yet another sword with her gloves. He managed to shift his head out of the way of her punch, and then swept his greatsword in for a second blow, which turned into a third when she dodged that one. He was far better than what they had been sending at her before, and pressed her with no moment to make an attack or reset her footing. Just pushing backwards without remorse or hesitation. It was to be expected, given his armour and weapon marked him out as an Executioner, but still. 

Kicking off harder than usual at her latest dodge, she flipped backwards and used the second of breathing room it gave her to pull out Khaine’s Talon and put a bullet in his knee. At least, that was the intent, but the man managed to roll off to the side in full plate and the bullet merely glanced his armour. Showcasing exceptional speed and skill, he managed to shift his head out of the way of the second bullet that was aimed to hit between his eyes. Not so fast to get out of the way entirely, the bullet twisted his head from the impact and threw off his gait.

Lucky as well as skilled, Estaria’s move to take advantage of this was blocked by another Executioner that swung to take her head off at the neck. Throwing herself backwards out of the sword’s range, she rolled back to her feet and reloaded her pistol, giving the situation a considering eye. Three more Executioners came to support the big guy as he got back on his feet, with a fourth rushing her just inside her cone of vision.

“I’m flattered” Estaria commented, blowing the brains out of the fourth as he got too close to dodge in time. “All this for little old me?” she flourished her pistol for a Quick Load, and then rested it on her shoulder. It was a beautiful pistol. Long-barreled and grooved internally for some reason that she was not quite sure about. Blood red with some exceptional engraving along it, the thing was the kind of gun you’d feel inadequate to get killed by, so ostentatious was it’s design. 

Her friends didn’t respond however, which was unfortunate. What was the point of butchery if there was no reply on the other side? The four then rushed her, a perfectly orginized formation that covered each other and was absolutely spaced to take advantage of the range of their weapons without getting in the way as close quarters tended to be with weapons that size. Estaria disrupted it some by putting a more successful bullet in the knee of the guy on her left as he was taking a step, making him barrel over and trip his friend, opening a window for her to retreat from the two still standing. She stepped backwards, baiting the man at the front as if she was being pushed back by him. And then she hit one of the pillars behind her. 

Emboldened by her loss of an escape route, the man rushed forward to stab the blade through her chest. But instead he sunk the blade deep into the pillar behind her as Estaria shifted at the last moment. Before he could get free, a sickening crunch of bone rang out as she snapped his leg, and then reached around and wrenched his neck for the same kind of crunch. She was so glad that gambit worked out, getting stabbed was never fun, even with all her armour these days.

The Boss took advantage of this, and Estaria was a second from a haircut when his blade was blocked by another.

“Zarkar! You have broken every oath you ever took! What could you hope to gain out of this?!” Tullaris shouted. Far more animate than when he was talking to Estaria. Obviously, these two were close, which made sense given Zarkar was Tullaris’ greatest lieutenant.

“You would let Hellebron be killed, with no reaction?!” Zarkar would reply, pushing his blade off Tullaris’ and swinging for him, a swing that was elegantly reflected and replied, scoring Zarkar’s helmet with a shriek of metal.

“Har Garath’s rules will not! be broken! I put up with her madness” Tullaris recovered his greatsword and swung again, but it was knocked aside with a heavy parry. “But the laws, are immutable!”

Estaria, for her part, just watched. It was a personal thing between these two, and she wasn’t going to interfere. She did, however, clothesline the last Executioner who had less romantic feelings about this duel. Besides, she was enjoying watching the two, they were artists in their field. Swinging heavy blades around like they were merely sticks. Dodging, ducking, dipping, diving, and dodging in full plate like acrobats. She could learn a lot from this fight. So with another intervention to shoot the Crossbowman trying to interrupt, she’d flourish the pistol and keep watching. 

Back and forth went the men, blades swinging and armour screaming from glances and clips. Watching the fight going on, she stuck another bullet in the head of the Executioner she had previously kneecapped as he was crawling towards them with his knife out. It was slowly turning in Tullaris’ favour, and so when Zarkar scored a solid blow against Tullaris’ shoulderplate, he got cocky tried a wild acrobatic flip over Tullaris. Unfortunately that was too overt a move, and the replying swipe that cut Zarkar in half at the waist. 

“You were my brother, Zarkar! I loved you! You were the only man who could keep up with me, the only man I could trust. The only man I would ever show my back to, and you betrayed me!” Tullaris yelled at the dying man on the ground.

“Hellebron…She….is our queen!” Zarkar wheezed, horsely as she was rapidly bleeding out. 

“Honor is not homogenous. One must decide in what order he holds himself. In what order he carries out ‘Queen and Country’” Tullaris’ tone turned softer, cooler, as the situation came over him in a wave. The battle-rage subsiding as his foe was felled, and now he was left with the pain of the action he had carried out. “It is better to break your heart, than your honor”

Tullaris would, as Zarkar breathed his last, step over and close the Druchii’s eyes, before standing and looking to Estaria. His eyes were misted and his whole body seemed to be crushed with the weight of what he had done.

“Thank you, for supporting me” He said, with a quiet voice. Estaria would nod silently, and wait for him to carry on, which he did. The stands had emptied in the fight, and the few supporters of Zarkar that had survived were fleeing now their leader had been brought low. 

“This won’t be the only place they struck” Tullaris stated, looking to the sky. “My Executioners have orders to mobilize if the enemy does, but I don’t know if it will be enough. Har Garath tears itself apart, and we can do nothing but drown in the blood” The skull-faced man would hang his head, feeling deep guilt and shame for not having managed to stop this.

“It’s mostly me and Filnon. If we leave to Naggarond, the fight might die down much quicker than if we were still here. It will at least move the fight elsewhere, and you can recover” Estaria offered, nodding to the man. Tullaris looked over, showing great sympathy and gratitude, and then left. Friendly though she was with them these days, they were still Druchii. Any man would feel shame to cry in front of a woman, so a race who prided themself on being Strong would hate to show weakness in front of another. It was this that Filnon wanted to destroy. But she was still far from that goal. 

“Sucks I didn’t get to kill ya. I can imagine you give a lot of exp” Estaria commented to Zarkar’s corpse, and then headed out of the arena back to the coven, to tell Filnon about her plans.