[Loki was a master of magic and a warrior who had trained both in the weave of energy and the flourish of blades longer than her country had been a glimmer in a colonialist's eye, but that didn't stop him from watching her work. She was magnificent, not only in her ability, but also in her unbridled rancor. He could use that. He wasn't sure what he could use it for just yet, but he'd find a use. For now, it was sufficient to secure her allegiance, or at least an alliance, and that meant not letting an errant scythe cut their friendship short before it had even budded.
A flick of his wrist conjured one of those daggers from wherever it was he'd sent it, and another ended with a deft throw using superhuman strength and connected with the forehead of the flanking cultist, which fell to the ground, scythe forgotten, twitching once or twice before going still.]
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A flick of his wrist conjured one of those daggers from wherever it was he'd sent it, and another ended with a deft throw using superhuman strength and connected with the forehead of the flanking cultist, which fell to the ground, scythe forgotten, twitching once or twice before going still.]
Oh, I think it was worth it, don't you?