Äirisaetheräijatar

Äirisaetheräijatar swooped down for the attack with the calculated precision of a nightjar and the hyper-swiftness of a cybernetic cheetah.

She mustered and belched forth a noxious cloud as she buzzed overhead. The grey, green-lined cloud rained what smelt like ammonia but burned like a heavy corrosive. It had a clear iridescence which shimmered on the way down, each droplet burned deep channels into the flesh of the hapless marks as the acid streamed across their skins.

As she gained altitude, Äirisaetheräijatar spoke with an airy bellow which sounded like windblown trees raking together, “Enjoy your free spa, boys, compliments of House Xsy.”

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