Kirriam smiled. For a second, it seemed more like th hollow smile of someone being led to the gallows, but she covered it quickly with a snappy retort. "Oh, come come, my dear Skull, I think you should just surrender now and spare everyone the sight of such humilation as they will soon witness." Of course, she meant her own humiliation, but as she took the sword which had been offered to her, she found she remembered the proper grip and stance that she had been taught so long ago. At least she would be able to make it seem like she was confident in what she was doing.
"Very well then," she said. "No bloodshed, am I correct? I simply disarm my opponent?" Bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, she decided that the borrowed boots she wore fit snugly enough that she likely wouldn't slip and fall. She probably didn't stand much of a chance at all against this grizzled old mercenary, but that wasn't going to stop her from making a good show of trying. And maybe that would be enough. Maybe the Drow would respect the effort. Maybe they would respect the fact that she did not back down and tremble in fear.
At the same time, Kirriam had to admit to herself, and herself alone, that she was scared spitless.
Let's get this farce over with. "If you will be so kind as to give us the count of three to begin?" she smiled at Dickory, and then added in Skull's direction, "You can count to three, can you not?
