Hovering around Seth, like flies circling a deliciously fresh pile of shit, there are multiple of the emerald dagger. Each one defying the law of gravity without a care in the world as they waited to be torn from their perch in the sky and lobbed towards one of those depraved little cretins.
Of course, that was not all he had for ammunition. Stuck into the ground, completely surrounding him, was a chaotic mess of razor sharp feathers that were so graciously provided to him by his 'benefactor' Corvus. Unfortunately since the puppet still needed the cloak, as it was the only thing stopping him from exposing his identity as said puppet, it left Seth with a limited supply. Although, with the amount he had arranged for himself, he thought that it was overkill for the amount of Hemogoblins they had to face. Even if he missed half his throws, he was unlikely to run out.
Or so he thought, until he got the bright idea to target the mage.
