(02-09-2015, 12:21 PM)Warren Castille Wrote: "STOP. You will NOT engage me with a {KNIFE} today, ON PAIN OF DEATH and more likely just taxes. Instead I implore you to bring a {STAFF} to bear against me." The old Au Ra gazes into your soul, and a part of you realizes his statement is less of a request and more of a demand.
A pair of glowing crimson eyes burn into <t> from within the depths of the ornate plate helmet. Though no hands are placed upon them, they feel as if the gaze itself is locking them into place. As inexorably as a glacier, the Judge moves towards them, reaching into the depths of his tabard. From it, he produces a square of crimson, pressing it firmly against <t>'s forehead. He keeps it held there with two armored fingers, and <t> gets the feeling that trying to remove them would not be in their best interest. "Red Card. Thou art disqualified."