Eyeing her curiously as Sbatarra commenced her ritual, Baltazar made a snide remark. "At least your skin makes you able to not be found. An efreeti could not hide unless he threw himself into a bonfire that dimmed the stars, and even then." He then stood from his chair and gave a stretch, checking his own equipment. When he felt satisfied, the crusader put a thumb in his belt and led Sbatarra out of the bar and into the crisp morning air.<br/><br/>He took a breath most deep, his chest expanding as he inhaled through his nose. He then let it all out with a sigh, saying with some kind of relief, "Ah, the smell of fog, smoke and slag to greet me in the morning. Nothing quite like it." Such odors were indeed present, the district housing the poor and dirty. A large smithy that had one central forge and several men working on anvils of their own was visible, belching forth smoke so hot that it was whiter than the mist that had hung low over the streets, though the fog was not especially thick. It would soon clear anyway, the sun's rays dispelling it all in good time.<br/><br/>Baltazar led the drow through the winding streets and eventually to a large and open meeting square. It was fifty feet by fifty, roughly, with an iron grate in the middle that was about five feet-squared itself. Though nobody was there at the time. anyone with half a brain knew there soon would be. Baltazar gave the area a good scan, looking at the cobbling for anything that could work against him, things like protruding bricks, holes, large crack, and bits of rubbish lying about. When he seemed to be satisfied, Baltazar stood in the middle of the place and said, "And now, we wait."<br/><br/>The time passed, and though it was not an especially log stretch of time, it was a slow one. The sun seemed to creep over the horizon as slowly as it possibly could, taking its sweet time as it rose to bring those who were not out before dawn from under their sheets and onto their feet. With the sun came a surprise of a most different sort, though it was still welcome: Baltazar's opponent.<br/><br/>She had to be seven feet tall, perhaps a couple of inches more, and she was quite built for such a height as well. Were she was stout as Baltazar but at the same height, she'd nearly have weighed four-hundred pounds. Her hair was loose and a bit wiry, but was a most beautiful, inky midnight violet, while her skin was a pale turquoise. Indigo eyeballs surveyed the area, just above them resting small, curved horns, and finally settled on Baltazar and Sbatarra; though the woman gritted her teeth, it seemed to be more in a thoughtful manner, if such two things could be associated with one another, and the huge iron club that rested over her shoulder looked far too big, even for someone of her size. A very exotic, stylish breastplate made of mithral was hanging over her chest, and she glared a bit at Baltazar, wondering what he was doing here quite so early. He answered her question for her.<br/><br/>"Good morning, Miss Onigawara," he said, nor readying his morningstar. Instead, he reached into the bag at his back, and from it drew a bardiche that was far longer that the bag should have allowed, the whole weapon being about seven feet in total. The amount of care it seemed had been put into the thing was almost immeasurable, made of adamantine and given a handle encrusted in silver and gems. From the bag he then drew a long, wide, thick strip of leather that had laces on its edges. Baltazar tied the leather to the blade, obviously making it so that the bardiche did not do anything that could kill someone unless he chose to strike them in spots such as the side of the head. "You have your second ready?" Baltazar asked, resting his bardiche in a manner not unlike the onna-bushi did her kanabo.<br/><br/>Onigawara nodded. "Indeed," she replied, her words short and sweet but her voice befitting of her size. From deep in the mist could at first be seen a pair of eyes that glowed fuchsia, and their owner approached, their form becoming more definite with each step. Soon, when the person had reached Onigawara's side, it was evident just who it was.<br/><br/>It was Sililuthsauriva. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Sbatarra, though she said nothing.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>