Frita grit her teeth as the monstrous creature made his way towards her. She moved backwards, knowing that this would soon force her into the ’loving’ arms of the thugs surrounding her. She heard a weird crackling sound behind her, followed by groaning and yelling. Looking behind her, the thugs had been frozen in place! She looked to find the source of their encasement, which the Rias’oyvee woman, causing a snowstorm to entrap the rest of the thugs. This was great, as it cleared her up to be able to actually move around the Whip. He was powerful beyond compare, but his speed was lackluster at best.<br/><br/>She tried to recall everything she knew about trolls; they were notorious for their strength, size and most of all, their incredible regenerative abilities. Supposedly they healed so fast, that if need be, they can rip off an entire arm or leg to use as a weapon, and the limb will grow back so fast that it won’t be at a disadvantage for more than a minute at absolute best. She’d heard that trolls were able to recover from any wound, regrowing their entire body from just a head! There were ways to get around it though; most importantly was conservation of mass. A troll couldn’t regrow large limbs without getting new mass from somewhere. As a result, trolls usually ate constantly to have as much regenerative potential at any given time (and because they were always hungry), but it WOULD run out eventually. A battle of endurance with a troll was generally ill advised though. The other much more practical solution was to use powerful fire or acid to burn the wounds of the troll. If a wound was hit with powerful enough fire or acid, the regeneration should stop, at least temporarily. Frita would be able to produce such fire, but it would take a lot of energy and a bit of time (especially if she wanted to get him alive), both of which she was short on. Last thing she remembered about trolls were that they were known to have huge egos and be rather stupid. That last bit might buy her some time.<br/><br/>“You don’t really look like any troll I’ve ever seen.” she tried, attempting to get the Whip to talk about himself as she gathered energy for a powerful fire spell, hoping he wasn’t magically attuned so he could notice. “Hah! Of course not. My kind is banned from human society, forced to live in the shadows. It’s not fair is it? So I changed myself to this hideous form, so you’d think I was an orc or something.” He snarled in disgust, his eyes full of hatred. “Maybe we wouldn’t ban your race from our cities if you’d stop enslaving and eating people?” Frita suggested accusatorily. The Whip scoffed. “Why should I show mercy to your kind, when you’ve shown me none? No, you don’t deserve to be treated with respect. You deserve to fall before me! I’m the stronger one! I should be in charge!” He was starting to grow agitated, but it was working. She only had to hold out for a bit longer, and then she could get him with a concentrated fire spell!<br/>“It’s quite the scheme you’ve pulled, I’m impressed. It’s rare to see, woah!” Frita narrowly dodged out of the way of the Whip’s whip coming at her with incredible speed. She heard a splintering sound behind her, like glass shattering. Behind her, she saw about a dozen ice statues fall in a hundred pieces to the ground, destroyed by the Whip’s blow. Blood scattered everywhere from within the ice pieces, spraying the snowy nightmarishly red. Frita looked at the scene, feeling a rising nausea in her throat. The metallic scent of blood hitting her like a wall, as if hammering in the reality of the surreal deaths she was witnessing. Her eye caught Mouse’s. His arm and part of his stomach had been shattered and he was falling backwards. To Frita’s surprise it wasn’t pain or horror painted on his face, but rather betrayal and sadness. Frita instinctively touched the ground, sending a wave through it to soften the earth under the falling ice statue so it wouldn’t shatter against the ground.<br/><br/>Frita stood up straight and wiped a tear from her eye, spitting on the ground to try to alleviate her nausea. She felt fine though. The seething anger was quickly replacing her exhaustion and discomfort. “How could you!” she yelled. “They were your allies!” He grinned. “Allies? Yea, but so what? Ally is just another word for someone who is useful enough to keep around for now. They were worth less as soon as they got in the way of the whip though, ha ha!”<br/><br/>Frita felt herself shaking. She wanted to rush at him, pound at him and rip his throat from his body and watch the life drain from his eyes! The only thing stopping her was that it wouldn’t kill him. “RIAS'OYVEE! Freeze him!” She screamed, in the direction of the silver haired noble, who appeared to have been stunned by the sudden murder of the thugs. She took a deep breath, looking even paler than normal and nodded. She pointed her palm in the direction of the troll and ice crystals started rushing towards him, freezing his legs and starting to cover his body. He reacted quickly though, breaking the ice as quickly as it could form, and making his way towards her. “Don’t die now…” Frita said quietly, more as a prayer for the Silver haired noble than anything else.<br/><br/>Frita reached to her sheath and drew her sword, the Salamander, and started drawing two fingers across the back of the metal, as she spoke an incantation in a language, the exact meaning of which had been lost to the ages long, long ago. She used the energy she had planned to use for a powerful spell for immobilizing the fiend, to instead enchant the steel of her sword. The parts of her sword made from cooled magma soon started seething, once again becoming like the magma it remembered being. “Strike true Salamander.” a blessing and a promise, ending the casting and looking towards her target. He was striking at the silver haired noble, but she was using her flight to keep her distance. Her attacks weren’t quite keeping him in place though, and every time she froze him, he broke it a little faster. “You did well Rias’oyvee.” Frita said as she closed the distance between herself and the Whip in a moment, slicing upwards with Salamander, cutting straight through his whip wielding arm. He roared in anger and pain, clutching his arm for a second before clenching his teeth and striking down with his left hand to destroy Frita. The fist was met with another lightning fast strike from her sword, cutting his fist clean down the middle, the sword cutting directly between the two bones in the forearm. He howled in indescribable pain, trying desperately to push his split arm together against the wall to make it heal, but it was no use, because the spell on the sword had shorted out his regeneration. “Your actions are inexcusable! You cannot claim a high horse and then act like a monster. You are a hypocrite and a fiend, and I could not rest, knowing you got any justice other than death!” Frita’s eyes burned with intention, piercing into the Whip’s eyes, which showed nothing but terror and regret. Stepping forward, Frita swung Salamander, splitting the Whip’s head in twain and, for good measure, halving the pieces once more.<br/><br/>The pieces of the Whip fell to the ground with a squelching thud. What once was life, reduced to large pieces of meat, soon to be eaten by wild dogs and some of the most savage members of the slums. Frita ended her enchantments and sheathed Salamander, her anger fading fast. Looking around she realized how overboard this had gone. This could have been avoided in too many ways. Yet, once again, she’d ended up murdering her foe. As dark thoughts were running through her head she heard a man coughing. She snapped out of it as she realized there were injured. She rushed to Mouse, whose stomach wound seemed to have been larger at first glance than it actually was. She used quickly drying mud to keep it from bleeding and made sure the few other survivors, who had been caught in the whips trajectory, were going to live. Mouse, still lying on the ground, was crying. Frita didn’t ask why, but she vaguely understood the sentiment, regardless of the relationship the two men had had. She somehow felt like crying herself, taking a deep breath and letting the low sobs of the grown man speak for her as well.