[Cards] Steel Hawk Handaxe

Grace crouched in a hidden corner of the roofs and looked down into the wide courtyard below. The area had been taken over by a gang of some fringe cultists that morning. To secure their hold there, they'd taken twelve hostages: something about sacrificing three innocents for each gang member or some such. Cultists say the damnedest things.

Four criminals, however, made the perfect number. Words surfaced in her mind, reminding her that precision and perfect accuracy were always key to managing this kind of crisis. She could hear Alexander's lecture on magic missile from years ago back in the crags above their old encampment. But she didn't have his magic. Just her own. She held an axe in her hand and thumbed its well-worn handle.

She shook her head and settled back into the present. Weighing it in her hand one final time, she launched the spinning axe down, followed immediately by its distinctive whirling screech and the howls of the unsuspecting cultists.

Final tally: deaths? One. Injured? Three. Collateral damage?

None.

Just like her father taught her.