[That wasn't satisfactory enough. She shakes her head, sighs to her dismay. There's something... exhausting about playing a game where she knows she's going to win, but happenstance has it that it seems farther off than she'd imagine. This time, she doesn't use her general to do her bidding, and produces a long, darkly dyed leather whip.]

The tip is poisoned, you see. It leaves a welt that doesn't go away no matter how much you heal and makes you hallucinate eldritch horrors as well.

[Raising it, she wastes no time and cracks the first bit of skin it can touch, flush snap against Bardulf's chest.]