Through the haze of her calmed mind and the slew of slashes at her from the mites, Brim's vision coalesces around one specific figure among the thunderwaved chaos: the thorny-crowned head of Mean King Grabbles, bobbing up from beside the hulking insec- no, arachnid - creature in the mob. Swaying forward, indifferent to not just the blows of his subordinates but also literally everything else around her, she raises her crook high over her head, "Allegedly-mean King Grabbles, formerly of that big tree over there, on behalf of a small dragon I met only a day ago, I hereby sentence you to whatever happens after I smack you with this stick," at that moment, the crook crackles with an almost electric thrum of power as a bass-y hum starts to rise in pitch. The sound grows progressively louder, simultaneously increasing in frequency as she concentrates a burst of thunderous energy in the hook of her crook, before grabbing on with a second hand and hopping up in the air. Her face a stone slab of detachment, she brings it down onto the kings face, knocking the crown from his head with a heavy bonk that immediately thereafter explodes in an echoing BOOM as the pent up energy reaches a crescendo of explosive proportions. Both the crown and the king are ragdolled away, bouncing off the ground like a pebble powerfully ploughed into a pond. "Rikrak," she says, turning in the direction of the kobold, "Your request for one "Death to Grabbles" has been fulfilled." So caught up in her jubilation is she that she hardly even notices the tick monster bearing down on her...