Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-28358106-20180502023220

Tirush gives him a curious look, then looks to his sword and shield both. Realization crosses her face.

"Ahh, yes.  I meant, your sthrah, your blade.  It means much to us, that I did not want to use the word.  But now..."

She takes the sword in her hands, one on the grip, the other on the blade, and takes a deep breath.

Almost erotically, she breathes out slowly, running her long tongue along the length of the blade. Her saliva, bright as magma, makes a long, white-hot rivulet along its length, making the slab glow. When she finishes, the glow seems to stay, and little drips fall off the sword and sizzle on the ground.

She turns the sword around in her hands, holding the blade, bright as a torch, presenting the grip to him.

"Lover's Flame," she says. "An ancient speech, among our first.  The words of the first Brearer as she accepted her mate.   It only will burn what it is wielded against; it knows its foe.  It will cut an enemy's flesh like the sun, but spurn a friend, for ot is a jealous Fire.  It should last until the next rising of the moon."