"Know your place, half-witted curs!" Jelalia's angered shout echoed through the air, and the din of clashing metal soon followed. All manner of warriors challenged her for the right to hold the divine blade, but on occasion cunning rogues would band together to present an effort of unrefined collaboration. However, mere numerical superiority was meaningless before her masterful skill, and every swing of her weapon would penetrate their weapons and armor as if they were parchment. After the fracas, she would wearily wonder when one of true worth would appear before her.