Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20170521035143/@comment-5999656-20170611162751

(Sorry about the slight delay, I've been in the middle of sketching all the Dragons)

Zanipher watched impassively as Diaboli enacted his revenge. It was exactly the type of response she had expected from him, so she'd seen this coming way before they'd gotten here. Even so, her personal distaste for gratuitous violence meant that she wasn't enjoying the scene at all. She almost felt pity for the fallen Huntsman, but the lingering taste of iron in her mouth wiped away all sympathetic thoughts a moment later.

When Diaboli addressed her, it caught her by surprise. Zanipher had assumed this would be something Diaboli wanted to deal with himself. So when he turned to her with a goading tone, she couldn't help but frown a little under her mask. She'd hoped they were past this stage of pressing each other's buttons.

"If you insist," she said simply. She stepped forward, pointing her blade at Gren, who by now was whimpering softly, coiled into a fetal ball in pools of his own blood. She waited until his blood-streaked face turned towards her, no longer brimming with hatred but glazed over with the pain.

"Apologies, brother," Zan said quietly. "You fucked with the wrong people. Better luck in your next life." And with that, she drove the blade into Gren's throat, planting one foot on the blade to drive it in until the tip hit dirt. She held her position while Gren's gurgles were the only sounds to be heard, only releasing her pressure when his death throes stilled and his broken body flopped limply onto the ground. In one deft motion, Zanipher pulled her blade out of his corpse and turned to face Diaboli.

"Is there anything else you'd like to deal with while we're here? We should probably check for survivors before we go." With that, Zanipher turned and began walking among the wreckage. She'd thought it strange that Gren was the only one to emerge when Diaboli had said that there were people working with him.