IC: T'harrak - Tahtorak Encampment
The battle that T'harrak observed was very different to the one that everyone else watched. The crowd saw the expected spectacle of strength and savagery, revelled in the roars and rage, bellowed at the brawn and brutality of the display, and delighted in the devastation.
T'harrak peered past it all to look within, her x-ray vision peeling away the layers and observing the deeper details of the two fighters.
She saw how muscles shifted differently under the scars of old wounds, where skin split and bruises blossomed as new injuries were inflicted, and where bones bore the marks of healed fractures or breaks. She saw how weapons were weighted and balanced, how armour was layered and connected, and where the wear of past battles had buckled it.
She was already passingly familiar with Jojax - her body bearing the batterings of innumerable battles, her levitating gauntlets hewn of dense metal, and her Kanohi with its grafted-on gadgetry - so she focused most of her attention during the bout on the new element, Gashril. Where Jojax was all bulk and muscle, Gashril was a little leaner, though it certainly hadn't put her at any disadvantage. (Just goes to show, strength isn't everything). The unusual device implanted in the De-Skakdi's throat was probably in some way responsible for the sonic attacks she'd unleashed during the battle, and there was something about that sword... T'harrak couldn't begin to speculate at its function, if any, since Gashril hadn't done anything unusual with it, but it definitely seemed more complex than most blades.
At first glance, she seemed an ally well worth having, and one who perhaps still had a few surprises left in store. And after that performance in battle - rules be karzed, we all saw who won that - she was definitely not someone worth making an enemy of, especially given how close this camp was to the Fort. Hopefully-
A grating metal clank off to the side briefly drew T'harrak's attention back to the other new De-Skakdi in their midst: Sohmak. She deactivated her x-ray vision just in time to catch a fleeting sneer on his face, probably directed at Jojax. Clearly whatever grudge or rivalry was between the two of them wasn't going to go away overnight. Speaking of which...
T'harrak quickly made her way around the ring, not wanting to risk unintentionally insulting someone or invoking something by crossing through it (she'd never bothered learning the rules of Sarke) to stand by the fallen Jojax, extending a hand to help her comrade up. "You almost had her. Maybe next time, yeah?"
She offered a smile towards Gashril as well. "Impressive work."
Her actions and words were as much of a genuine offer of aid and support for the two combatants as they were a calculated display for everyone else present.
Zanakra had clapped and laughed as if the whole display was for her entertainment, launching into her speech with scarcely a glance towards her fallen underling. She didn't offer even the pretence of concern. Her view of the world was as unwavering as her confidence: she was the warlord, and they were beneath her.
T'harrak instead sought to subtly establish herself as the opposite: a comrade, an equal. Her reasons had nothing to do with undermining or usurping Zanakra. They were as selfish as they were simple: this was a warrior's world, and she needed friends to survive in it.