Baobhan Sith's mind raced with confusion and disbelief. How was I discovered? She was sure she had been stealthy enough. But now, with her identity revealed, she felt the pressure to act.
She tightened her grip on her weapon, ready to strike Lott at any moment. But glancing around, she hesitated. The crowd watched intently, and the atmosphere crackled with tension.
Lott, sensing the standoff, also scanned the area. He hadn't intended for things to escalate this way. He planned to confront the goblin quietly, but the moment Baobhan Sith had shown her face, everything had changed.
"The broth here seems a bit insufficient. I'll get some more. Come on, you help me," Lott said to her, feigning nonchalance.
"Okay," Baobhan Sith replied, though her mind was racing.
Gawain, Lott's daughter, observed the interaction with a furrowed brow. What's going on? she thought, suspicious of the hooded figure. She dismissed any notion of her father being unfaithful. Instead, she believed this person was an enemy—a fairy, no less.
"I'll help serve the broth to the civilians," Gawain said, stepping away to keep a closer eye on the situation.
In a nearby clearing, Lott turned to Baobhan Sith. "Fairy Baobhan Sith, isn't it?"
"You know me!?" Baobhan Sith's surprise was evident, but a sly smile soon spread across her face. Ah, a caught prey.
"Since you know who I am, should you prepare to die?" she taunted, confidence lacing her words. "Don't worry; I'll make sure it doesn't hurt much."
"Kill me? With your abilities? I doubt that," Lott replied, dismissively.
"What do you mean?" Baobhan Sith glared at him, anger flashing across her features.
"It means, on paper, you're not my opponent," Lott stated matter-of-factly.
"Let's see who gave you this courage. Show me your strength!" Baobhan Sith challenged, intrigued yet disdainful of him.
Recalling her origins, Lott knew she was from Scotland, where the most famous figure was his wife's sister, the Queen of Shadows. "How strong am I? Have you ever seen the purple-haired queen in tights wielding a spear? She taught me martial arts. And though I'm not her student, she recognized my connection to her sister."
Baobhan Sith's eyes widened, memories flooding back of the humiliating defeat she faced at the hands of that very queen. "Hateful!" she spat, feeling the sting of past shame.
With a sudden resolve, she threw back her hood, revealing her striking form adorned in minimal clothing, and brandished a harp resembling Tristan's weapon. She plucked the strings lightly, unleashing a wave of sound that surged toward Lott.
Lott reacted quickly, drawing his sword, Blame Valius, to deflect the attack. The force pushed him back a few steps. "Now it's my turn!" he shouted, charging at her with determination.
Baobhan Sith swiftly dodged to the side, skillfully plucking the strings again to unleash more sound waves. Lott danced around her attacks, evading each strike while trying to get closer. He knew he had to close the distance; his sword skills would give him an advantage if he could get near her.
Meanwhile, Baobhan Sith was aware of the power behind Lott's weapon, forged from the tip of Longinus' spear. She realized that a confrontation could end poorly for her, especially considering the potential consequences of underestimating him.
Despite her confidence, doubt began to creep into her mind. Is it wise to kill him? Both Lott and Morgan were benevolent rulers, and if they died, would their successor be so kind? This thought slowed her movements just as Lott advanced, closing the gap between them.
Lott took the opportunity to launch a series of swift attacks, each one driving Baobhan Sith back. I can't let my hesitation show! she thought, trying to regain her footing against his relentless assault. The clash of their powers echoed through the clearing, setting the stage for a fierce battle between them.