“I certainly wasn’t expecting this…”
Ginya thought as the ground came up to meet her. She slid across the carpet in the dimly lit room. Old musty pillows cushioned her fall but just a little. It would all have been very romantic. Pillows on the floor, plush carpeting, sheer draperies that fell from ceiling to floor and mood lighting for days.
The giant Eredar, however, not very romantic.
Ginny’s side burned furiously with felfire from a wayward attack. Every time she moved, pain twisted her stomach into a fit of nausea. The wound encompassed her hip to just below her rib cage. Blood slid down her face from a cut on her forehead from the less than graceful landing. Her entire body was one big bruise.
But Vinarei had asked for help.
That’s why she had come along. Ginya hadn’t asked questions, nor wondered why. She didn’t know the stories and adventures that her fellow comrades had known or had. She had simply said, “Count me in.”
That’s how it had always been for Ginya. No matter where in the world of Azeroth she was or what find she’d been working on or what ruins she was in. Vinarei was one of her dearest friends and as such, she’d drop everything to help her.
But Loa Damn, that woman owed her a beer….and one long explanation.
The roar of one of the demonic assailants drew her away from her thoughts. Looking toward it, she saw Atticus pinned beneath a flailing monster. Ginya sneered. She had just met these people, she’d be damned if she didn’t at least make them friends before burying them.
Reaching behind her, the Monk pulled one of her blades from its sheath on her back. Her blades were long, a hilt fit perfectly in her palm while the blade extended from her fingertips to her shoulder. Using one as a makeshift crutch, she got to her feet. The second, she flew in a powerful arch to slice the neck of the Eredar from ear to ear. Saving Atticus to fight another day.
Suddenly! A bolt of fire and shadow hit her square between her shoulder blades. The Monk cried out as she was flung forward off of her feet. Her blade discarded, pain erupted from her skin and to her very core. She could hear Bwonsamdi’s chuckle.
Not today, Bwonsamdi.
Wait…no… it wasn’t the chuckle of the Lord of the Dead. It was almost rhythmic, graceful, like velvet over bare skin… but an ice cube down her spine. What the hell? An Elf?
Oh man! Vin owed her much…much more than a beer.