Snippet #2309871

Revan rolled his eyes as he listened to Athena's words as she made mention of her fabled Sword of Strength and how in her holier than thou idiocy misplaced the mighty weapon. Revan folded his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the many pillars in the room. The distrust she displayed to Tche and Eris amused Revan somewhat, enough to draw the shadow of a msile to etch it's way onto the creases of his mouth as he watched the events unfold around him. He had a mind to voice Athena's folley in loosing such a powerful blade knowing the fool would puff up her chest, demand battle be done and succed only in receiving a blade in her spine. Revan meant what he said earlier, he wouldn't spill immortal blood, not here yet even that custom was beginning to wear on his mind. What a stupid sentiment, what should it matter when and where he punish the foolish or corrupt? He was the god of vengeance and punishment! Who was going to punish him? No one, none would dare and think to live to see another sunrise.

Revan growled in his throat but relented to stay his blade for now, Athena wanted a fight. She'd get one soon enough. On the steps to her Sanctum he'd leave her a sobbing heap. He'd turn her from the mighty, noble Goddess to a beaten, bloodied woman playing at war.

As he mused in his dark mind about all the ways he'd humiliate Athena Katergaris began ranting in that mad way he tended to do about some magical boots he misplaced. The loss of magical artifacts appeared to be a family trait.