She stepped aside to make room for Shaeine, who knelt, reached in with both hands, and pulled out a pair of matched scimitars.
“Heh, not bothering to defy the cliché, are we?” Zaruda asked, grinning.
“You used that word at lunch, as well,” replied the drow, tilting her head inquisitively. “I am not able to infer the meaning from context.”
“What, cliché? That’s, uh… You know how a phrase or idea or something is really awesome when it’s first invented, but gets repeated so often everybody gets sick of it and it loses all meaning?”
“Ah, yes.” Shaeine nodded in understanding. “We call that a drizzt.”