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Faustite caught as much as Tourmaline pulling a liberal strike, but the sudden (and frequent) use of teleportation scrambled the captain's ability to keep note. Figures flickered and fled in a blink, leaving him constantly tracking the battlefield for who they were and where they went. When he caught glimpse of her, Faustite thought Tourmaline sported more injuries. If you lose… Faustite bit his tongue, his fingers curling into a loose and painful fist. It can't be you and Pyrophanite.

But if they keep teleporting, I won't be able to keep up enough to be disappointed. Small consolation.

Huffing, he continued scanning the room for the epilepsy-inducing officers.

General Tourmaline was going down, that much was obvious, but she was hardly the sort to go down without a fight. If this skirmish had taught her anything it was that she was entirely out of practice and no amount of perching around, lurking and conversation was going to fix that. She had spent time building herself up as a Captain to become more scratch than hiss, earning her promotion to General and then what?

Recruiting.

Information gathering.

Laziness.

Tourmaline turned the frustration she felt towards herself into aggression against Arsenopyrite. Arrogance had gotten her into this mess; knocked onto the ground not once but twice, and determination would help her get at least one last strike in before she fell.

Arseno's pick arced in her direction, this time catching Tourmaline across the thigh. The blade pierced through the thick leather, drawing the sharp sting of a cut along the flesh beneath it. Before he could draw back she took hold of the head of the pick, yanking it towards her before using the last bit of her energy to force the handle of the weapon back towards its wielder.

[4 HP]

[Attack: 8 - 2 = 6 damage dealt]