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Matna woke with a gasp, pursued by her nightmares. Frantically, she clawed at the air until the images melted away. If she expected comfort, she found none as she looked around the unfamiliar room. Except for the mattress she was laying on and a messy bedroll near by, it was completely empty.

Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind while taking several deep breaths. As she felt herself grow calm, she began to search her memory for where she was and how she had gotten there. Brief flashes of images began to surface. A fire. A fever. A doe with gold glowing eyes and a faint aura. Monsters with tarous faces rising from the ground, controlled by the glowing eyed doe.

Footsteps interrupted her thoughts and made her eyes snap open. At the opposite side of the small room, the door began to slowly swing open, making Matna sit up and lift her arms in a defensive pose. She felt a tingling in her skin as it began to wrinkle, her body preparing itself for the fight already taking place in her mind.

A shaggy head poked in the doorway, a pair of dark spectacles pointed in her direction. Instantly the druid relaxed as she recognized her mate, Trynt. "Ah good, you're finally up." The dwarf said in his thick brawl of an accent. Shoving the door aside, he carried two large steaming bowls into the room and handed one to the druid as he approached her.

"How long have I been out?" She asked, bowing her head to sniff the bowl's contents. Deciding that the contents smelled palatable enough, she glanced into the bowl and saw that it was a breakfast gruel with chunks of dried fruit mixed in.

"Handful of hours." Trynt replied. He plunked himself down on the bedroll and began to slurp down his own gruel.

Matna brought her bowl to her mouth to take a tentative sip. "And where are we? What of the MidKnight?"

The dwarf took his time in answering, too busy noisily slurping down his meal to speak. Finally the bowl was lowered and he looked at her, letting out a large belch and swiping his arm across his mouth. "Aye, that." The empty bowl was put aside and his eyes fell her to her bowl, although Matna made no move to offer him her unfinished portion. "That nasty-tempered hess out there managed to find us a training camp. Bunch of unblooded calves. But they make a good porridge, says I."

"You think everything is good if it fits in your big mouth." Matna grumbled as she lifted her own bowl for another mouthful. "But what happened to her? Did they kill her? Let her escape?"

"It lives." Trynt replied callously. "Swingin' in a cage outside is all. They don't know what to do with it yet."

The druid sighed through her nostrils and tipped back her bowl to finish her meal. Setting the empty dish aside, she closed her eyes and leaned back her head to sort through her tangled thoughts. The fever was gone, for which she was thankful, and she was sure her strength would return soon enough. "I'm not sure what should be done with the MidKnight either. Obviously such a dangerous creature can't be allowed to roam around free. But... she did save our lives." She opened her eyes to look down at the bored-looking dwarf. "Or was that a hallucination?"

Trynt gave an indignant snort. "Aye, suppose that's one way you could describe what happened. If you want to be nice."

"I was..." Matna closed her eyes again and rubbed her forehead. "Things started to get a little fuzzy after those.... things... were created. Did I really ride one of those monstrosities? It almost feels like a dream. A terrible, horrible dream."

"T'weren't no dream, lass." He replied with a shake of his head. "Waking nightmare, mayhaps. I'll go tell the calves you're up. Or try too, anyway. All daft, these 'uns. Keep askin' me what I said and giving me these stupid stares like I'm flick'n me lips!"

Matna said nothing as her husband collected the bowls and left, but she knew well the difficulties of understanding the dwarf's mangled Common. Only months spent listening to him allowed her to understand him easily. Not that their time together had increased her affection for him or his habits. She furiously forced the memory from her mind as soon as it began to rise, the wounds still far to fresh to poke at.

A soft knock drew her attention to the door once again. "Come in." She called. The door cracked open slowly and an inquisitive head popped in. "Ah, good. You're finally awake." The doe spoke, her head disappearing behind the door again before it suddenly swung wide open.

The doe filled the space of the doorway, a large woven basket filling her arms. As she entered the small room, she paused a moment to kick the door closed behind her before walking over to Matna. The basket was set down on the floor beside her and Matna could see that it was filled with steaming water and several folded cloths. "That dirt dweller you were traveling with found me and kicked up quite a bit of a fuss, so I figured either you were worse or better, but I should check on you either way." The doe smiled and knelt on the floor next to the basket. "How do you feel?"

"I feel..." Matna paused a moment to think about the question. Several answers floated through her mind; Devastated. Disgusted. Enraged. Alone. All of them were appropriate, but none of them were the answer the other doe was looking for. "Much better now. Thank you." She finally answered. "Whatever you all did for me, it certainly helped."

The grey doe's smile widened, but she shook her head. "Just gave you a place to sleep and kept you cool until the fever broke. You did all the rest yourself." Suddenly her smile melted away and her eyes narrowed. "You're quite lucky, you know. That MidKnight nearly turned you into a ghoul! You and the dirt dweller did good to bring her to us. A messenger has already been sent and there's a squad on their way to come fetch her."

Matna nodded, but a tickling in her conscience made her frown and flatten her ears. "What will they do with her?" She asked softly, unable to meet the other doe's gaze.

"Destroy it would be my best guess." The grey doe replied. "Just like the rest of the undead king's forces that we've come across."

"Ah... I suppose that makes sense." Matna spoke, her tone growing increasingly morose. "But..." Her lips tightened as she fought with herself. The grey doe watched her with an interested stare but did not speak. "Never mind." She finally finished, hanging her head wearily.

The other doe shrugged and her smile returned. "Well, I imagine you could really use a good wash, so I brought you some hot water. I've already steeped the soap root. Your clothes have been taken care of as well, so I'll bring them in to you shortly. If you need anything, just give a shout for Shashjii."

"Thank you." The druid said softly, waiting for the younger doe to leave before she rose to bathe.

Matna felt refreshed when she finally emerged from the room. The bath had been soothing and it felt good to be in clean garments again, although she knew they wouldn't stay that way for very long. She had taken her time painting her face, carefully drawing each symbol to denote her station as a druid and her abilities. The pair of claws that graced each of her cheeks warned those in the know that she was a skilled fighter and shape-shifter while the stylized feather along her snout hinted at her form of flight.

Not every druid could shift, and of those who could, very few took the form of a bird to do it. Matna took pride in being in such a minority. Birds were the most difficult animal to learn to change into because they were not native to Eidra and had no equal. For a druid to fly as one was something only the most skilled and most determined could ever hope to accomplish.

Head held high, she took her first step outside. She had to blink rapidly several times until her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. With trepidation, she looked around the small encampment, expecting to be mobbed by curious or suspicious young warriors, but she was largely ignored except for a few polite nods in passing.

Small shacks similar to the one she had just vacated randomly spotted the fenced in area. They appeared to be hastily erected from whatever scavenged wood could be found nearby; temporary lodging meant to be torn down and abandoned once the occupants were ready to leave.

It didn't take her long to spot the hanging cage. It had been created just as hastily as the structures, and it's purpose was just as temporary. Made from spears and scavenged branches lashed together, the odd contraption was barely bigger than the doe it held. It swung lazily a few feet above the ground from the joining of three long poles. As Matna moved closer, she saw that the dreaded MidKnight appeared to be asleep inside the container. The undead doe had shattered parts of the barrier just large enough to stick out her legs, allowing only the very tips of her hooves to drag across the grass as she leaned back against the make-shift bars.

Matna couldn't help but wonder why the MidKnight had not shattered the rest of the cage and escaped already. She stopped a few feet from the cage and peered in at its occupant curiously. Despite giving the appearance of sleep, the MidKnight's ears twitched to follow the druid's every movement. She had no doubt that the prisoner could still cause trouble at the first opportunity. A dangerous predator at rest was still dangerous.

"You don't have to pretend." Matna said softly. "I know you're not really asleep." The MidKnight gave no indication she heard her speak. She made no movement and her eyes remained closed. "You're not fooling anyone, you know." She said louder. Again, the MidKnight remained silent. Even her ears remained in place to continue tracking the druid's movements while giving no importance to her words.

Matna wrapped her arms across her chest and snorted in irritation at the MidKnight. Just by existing, she was an affront to life and a danger to everyone around her. And yet, she hadn't actually tried to harm anyone yet. Her very actions had been atrocious, but the druid's life had been saved. The MidKnight was a confusing puzzle, and Matna hated not being able to understand.

"Why did you save me?" She finally asked, her voice raising with the shortening of her temper. "Why didn't you just kill us? You had every opportunity."

The Midknight finally opened her eyes, their soft glow almost invisible in the bright sunshine. Her gaze was as sharp as a dagger. "You know, as I sit here counting clouds, I ask myself that exact same question."

Matna's mouth drew tight. "Have you come up with an answer?"

"Is that really what you came over here to ask me?" Nadirah replied, her tone dismissive.

Matna grunted in frustration. She felt the slimy grip of guilt war in her mind with common sense. "Well, actually I feel like I owe you some sort of thanks. For bringing my husband and I to this place even though it put you at risk."

"You can thank me by telling your 'brothers and sisters' here to let me be on my way so I don't have to hurt anyone." the MidKnight said.

Matna shook her head. "You know I can't do that. Even if I believed you weren't a risk to others, which I don't, they would accuse me of being on the necromancer's side. No one would listen to me. Even if I told them what you did for us."

"Your overwhelming show of gratitude is thanks enough, then." The Midknight snipped irritably before closing her eyes again.

The druid huffed in frustration. Understanding of the other's motives was still hopelessly out of reach. She wasn't even sure why she needed to know so badly, only that she did. "Why would you be worried about hurting anyone? Why not just slaughter us all? I'm sure you could if you wanted to. Maybe even summon another monstrosity from our bodies."

"I could." Nadirah replied without opening her eyes. "And I will if I'm forced to. But the fewer idiots chasing after me looking for revenge, the better."

Matna sighed mournfully and looked away. "You won't have to worry about that anymore." She said softly. "Word's been sent that you're here. They plan to execute you."

"They plan to try." Nadirah replied calmly.

"And just what do you mean by that?" The druid snapped back. Her tail began to whip back and forth to express her growing irritation.

Nadirah opened one eye to stare at her incredulously. The silence stretched between them for several breaths before the MidKnight spoke again. "You ask stupid questions." She then closed her eye and went back to ignoring her visitor.

The druid's lips pulled tight against her teeth. "Well, if you're so concerned with avoiding bloodshed, why don't you just break out and escape?"

"I'm too busy wondering why you won't go away and leave me alone already. You already said you won't do me any favors." The Midknight growled.

"Because I.... I..." She paused, unable to finish the statement. She wasn't sure herself why she couldn't seem to leave the other alone. Part of her was driven by the guilt of her unrepaid rescue, but she also knew that there was more to it than that. She briefly wondered if it was because she had already experienced so much loss that she couldn't stand to lose any more, even if it was someone she detested.

The Midknight's eyes reopened and pinned the druid in place. The glow burned brightly with hatred. Her lips pulled back in an expression of murderous intent. Suddenly her arm snatched out of the cage and grabbed the druid's wrist, nails pressing into her skin. The MidKnight's touch was cold despite the warmth of the fading day. "Let me guess," she sneered. "It's complicated?" Giving a disdainful snort, the doe tossed the druid's arm away. Her legs stretched out and dug her hoof tips deeper into the earth, using a series of tiny steps to turn the cage around until her back was to the druid.

The move would have been comical had Matna not been so taken aback by her behavior. She looked down at her wrist where the MidKnight had touched her. The area still held the chill of her grip although there was nothing visibly wrong. Suddenly she felt herself overcome with weariness. She turned and began to walk away, no clear destination in mind. The heat of the suns on her black fur was rapidly replaced with a bone-deep chill. Without warning, the doe's legs suddenly gave out from under her and she let out a small cry of surprise as she felt herself fall.

The sky appeared to fall away as the ground rushed up to cradle her. Anticipating the impact, Matna closed her eyes and jerked up her arms to protect her face. The air escaped her lungs in a rapid gush as something hard slammed into her gut, leaving her gasping desperately. She flicked open her eyes by reflex and was surprised to find herself floating a few inches from the ground.

"Ye' feelin alright?" The voice of her husband wormed its way past her confusion. Turning her head, she was even more surprised to find herself nose to nose with him, his burly arms tucked under her body to hold her up.

"Where did you come from?" She asked, the hardness of his forearms pressing into her lower chest and belly and restricting her breath.

Gently, the dwarf lowered her to the ground before answering. "W'else would I be?" Once the druid was free of his grip he reached up to adjust his dark goggles, which had been knocked slightly askew. "Accursed calves don't know 'ow to brew a good drink."

Matna blinked several times in an attempt to clear the growing fog in her mind but it only got worse. Her thoughts were becoming jumbled and confused. She knew the MidKnight had done something to her but she couldn't remember what. Before she could get a grasp on the thought, it fled, leaving her looking up at her husband again, wondering why his face was so scrunched up with concern.

Moments later she was surrounded by several other concerned faces, although she recognized none of them. Disembodied voices began to drift down to the confused druid as her view of the sky was filled with more and more tarous faces.

"Someone fetch Shashjii. The visitor is sick again."

"Is she alright?"

"I think I saw her fall over."

"Wasn't she just over there talking to the Midknight?"

"She was already sick. Is she turning?"

All further words melted into a soft murmur as the druid slipped into unconsciousness.

Nadirah was getting angry. The accursed druid had betrayed her. She was really beginning to hate druids in general.

A quick glance at the sky told her that nightfall was only a short time away. Precious time that should be spent doing something useful, like traveling as far from the undead king's reach as possible, not sitting in a pen of sticks. She could feel his eyes searching for her, his minions closing in, trying to bring her back into the fold. With every passing minute they came closer to finding her again. And she was stuck in a training camp all because of a random encounter with another tarin druid.

Nadirah ground her teeth as she thought about the black-furred doe. How she married a dwarf and then dared to have the nerve to stick her nose up at Nadirah, calling her ill-bred. She should have abandoned them both to die out there. Or killed them herself. It would have saved her a lot of trouble in the long run.

Nadirah didn't understand the attraction she herself held. She couldn't understand why it was that no matter where she went or what she did, someone constantly wished to own her, to trap and confine her or to use her. All she wanted was to be left alone. She wasn't some beast of burden to be commanded and traded until she was fit for nothing but meat. And yet her freedom was challenged at every turn. Every step forward met with another blockade.

Originally she had thought it to be a human trait, but she had long since come to realize that all of the races she had encountered held this flaw in some form or another. Malthamus, the self-titled king of the undead, and his dreams of controlling the world were not even notable among human conquerors. He was just one more among many self-crowned rulers of many races.

Lowering her gaze, she took in her surroundings. Several of the young warriors stood several feet away, all of them watching her closely while pretending not to.

They were not her people anymore, if they ever had been at all. Still, she would have preferred to leave in peace without harming any of them. They were all young and inexperienced, innocent of the crimes of their elders. Still, they were in her way and that would not be tolerated for much longer. She simply had to wait for the right opportunity to reveal itself.

It did not take long for an opportunity to present itself. Nadirah heard a commotion and watched as several of her keepers run along the same path the druid had taken, disappearing from sight. 'At least she's finally good for something.' She thought. She overheard one of them say something about the druid turning as they disappeared around a building.

Within moments she was alone. A sweep of her arm shattered the brittle wooden bars of her cage. She rose quickly and hopped to the ground, taking a few steps away from the cage before taking a moment to stretch.

She was greeted by pain like a loyal pet, electric jolts running through every limb. She briefly considered stealing a weapon, but she wasn't sure where they were kept and time was limited. The druid's diversion would not last for long.

Before she had the chance to move, however, a cry of alarm rang out behind her. The MidKnight turned to look at the frightened youngster that had given the call, the horn still clutched in her trembling fingers. "Ah hell." Nadirah grunted in frustration. She turned away from the spotter and darted off but other tarous were already showing up, attempting to block her path. Turning again, she tried bolting toward the gate, still hoping to get free without spilling blood, but her options were rapidly running out.

A line of the young warriors quickly formed to block off the gate, halting the MidKnight in her tracks. Like a pack of hunting predators, they began to circle her, weapons shaken threateningly in her direction.

The Midknight could smell their fear. It filled the air like the aroma of blooming flowers. She inhaled deeply, finding nourishment in their terror. It strengthened her with every breath, filling her with a blood lust she fought to control.

"Move now." The MidKnight ordered, her voice weighted with barely restrained rage. "Let me pass and do not follow. My quarrel isn't with any of you, yet."

"Well we have a quarrel with you!" One of the young fighters announced, charging forward. The ring tightened with his approach and a brave doe followed shortly behind.

Patience at an end, Nadirah bared her teeth in a feral snarl and crouched lower, preparing for a fight.

When Matna opened her eyes again, she was alone and the blue sky had turned dark. Slowly, she sat up, blinking several times to rid herself of a lingering dizziness. When she was finally able to look around her again, she was surprised to find that she was still on the ground where she had fallen.

Casting her gaze further, she saw a crumpled body. The young doe lay curled on her side, her limbs splayed outward and her neck tilted unnaturally. Not far from her was the still form of a young bull, one horn shattered and his forehead dented inward. Matna's mouth opened in shock and she scrambled to her feet, nearly falling as she fought back vertigo. The MidKnight, she thought. The MidKnight had used her as a diversion and was trying to escape!

Scuttling unsteadily on her hands and knees, the druid began to make her way closer to where the creature had been caged. As she rounded the corner of a small hut, she saw a group of the young warriors clustered together, surrounding the MidKnight. In their wide eyes was a mixture of hatred and fear. Their muscles twitched in readiness, each one filled with a desire to rush forward and end their foe, but they held back after seeing what had become of their braver companions. The shattered remains of the MidKnight's prison lay scattered across the ground where it had fallen.

Hugging the corner of the building she sheltered behind, the druid rose carefully to her feet. A swirl of emotions assaulted her confused mind. The lingering guilt soured into a bitter shame. A slow smoldering of hatred that she had been fanning since meeting the MidKnight ignited into a blaze of rage. The flames fed on her anger and sorry like dry kindling until the druid was engulfed in the heat of her own fury.

As she watched, the MidKnight turned to someone she couldn't see, raising her hands in supplication. Blinded by her own need to lash out and heedless of her own safety, Matna took the opportunity to creep closer.

"Honestly, I don't know why you put up with that druid anyway." Nadirah said. "She's so weak and pitiful. How you've survived even this long dragging that dead weight around, I have no idea."

Matna's scowled fiercely as she over-heard the Midknight speak. Weak was she? Pitiful was she?

"You, though, I... could grow to like you." She continued, unaware of the druid's glare. "Probably. How about you put that silly little thing down and we take off together before these calves find their bravery?"

Matna heard a mumble as whoever the MidKnight was talking to replied. She couldn't make out the words, but she recognized the voice; it was her husband! Silently falling back to all fours, the druid's body began to shiver and shift as she crept closer.

Nadirah sensed the approach of another opponent. The sunlight was fading to barely a glow and she felt her powers begin to rise within her with the approach of night. She could sense the presence of every form around her, their emotions like a tether from their bodies to her own. Their fear gave her strength. Their anger fueled her her rage.

She turned to face the new opposition, surprised to see the dwarf pulling free from the ring of tarous that loosely surrounded her. The diminutive man glared at her from behind thick dark spectacles, a training mace held tightly in his hands. The weapon was nearly as big as the dwarf himself and appeared to be taking up most of his concentration to keep it aloft. Little more than a large wooden ball covered with blunted spikes, set atop a bronze bar, the mace was not meant for true combat.

The dwarf's hatred of her rolled off of him like a bad smell. The MidKnight could see it like a dark aura, twisting and funneling its way to her to fill her with energy. The doe gave a snort and spread her hands as if in surrender. "Oh no! Please don't hurt me, mighty dwarf!" She mocked. "I'll give you one chance to get out of my way, tunnel rat. Just step aside and let me be on my way. You can even boast about how you scared me so much I ran away with my tail between my legs. I won't be around to tell any different."

Instead of stepping aside, the dwarf took another step forward and planted his feet, his scowl daring her to take a step forward as he raised the mace higher over his shoulder. He spoke something in harsh tones, but the doe could not even begin to untangle his heavy accent.

"Are you trying to impress your wife, little man?" She taunted viciously, the fresh spark of anger her words invoked in him giving her a burst of energy. "Honestly, I don't know why you put up with that druid, anyway. She's so weak and pitiful. How you survived even this long dragging that dead weight around, I have no idea." She breathed deeply of the dwarf's essence, siphoning off more of his delicious energy without him even noticing.

"You, though, I..." He was such an ugly thing, in Nadirah's opinion. His wild growths of hair were greasy and unkempt. His mouth was small and always puckered, his eyes hidden behind his goggles. He didn't seem to be good for much, either. For all she could tell, he only got in the way like his wife. She decided he would be easy to kill if she could convince him to come with her. "Could grow to like you. Probably. How about you put that silly little thing down and we take off together before the calves find their bravery?"

The dwarf almost appeared to consider her words, his face softening and the mace lowering slightly, but then his expression hardened again and the weapon raised back into its previous position. He spoke again, his words unintelligible but his tone clearly harsh and clipped.

"Hey, if you're so worried about the druid, we can always send a message back later, or better yet we can kill her now and be do-" She saw the dwarf's head tilt slightly to something over her shoulder and began to turn, but not before her words were cut off by the impact of an immense weight.

The impact caught her off balance and she fell forward, her attacker clinging to her back. She felt a harsh tug of her mane and shoved against the ground in an attempt to roll over and pin her attacker beneath her, but they were too quick. Nadirah saw the black lioness as she came back, leaping upon the MidKnight's chest and aiming her next bite for her throat.

Matna tried to bite the back of the Midknight's neck to sever her spine, but her prey had turned at the last second, causing her to bite down on a mouthful of mane instead. As soon as the MidKnight began to roll, she leapt aside but pressed the attack. The MidKnight raised an arm to protect her vulnerable throat and Matna bit down, her teeth tearing deep into the flesh. Blood splashed into her mouth and coated her tongue. The ichor was thick and oily, filling her mouth with the vile taste of rot and decay.

The druid released her grip and attempted to spit out the liquid, but an explosive blow to her shoulder sent her tumbling across the ground. As soon as she stopped moving, Matna tried to rise back up but a blinding pain radiated throughout her body, causing her to let out a roar of agony. She pushed past the pain to stand again but her left foreleg hung uselessly to the ground. Her shoulder had been broken, and she could not repair it without shifting again, leaving her more vulnerable to the MidKnight's vengeance.

Her gaze snapped to the undead doe as she rose back to her own feet. Any moment she would be likely to charge. The dwarf rushed forward and slammed the training mace into the back of the MidKnight's legs, toppling her once again.

Matna took the precious seconds to change back to her natural form, her body repairing the damage as it recreated itself. As soon as the transformation was done, she dropped to one knee. Her fingers dug into the soil and borrowed energy from the plants and creatures living in it.

Nadirah rose once again to her feet. Her eyes blazed brightly, appearing to be filled with white fire. Her dark aura also grew, absorbing the growing darkness and drawing it into herself. Her lips curled back in a snarl of rage and her chest heaved with every breath. Her murderous gaze flitted between Matna and the dwarf. Suddenly she threw back her head and let out a cry of such feral intensity that Matna felt a shiver run down her spine. The young unblooded fled, leaving the three of them alone in a suddenly deserted camp.

"I gave you every chance to get out of my way." The MidKnight snarled. Her voice carried a strange echo as if two mouths spoke in unison. Her arms flexed out to either side, her fists bursting into black flames. "I told you to let me go in peace. No one had to be hurt." Her eyes narrowed to slits, the white fire pouring from beneath her eyelids. But you were too eager for blood. Always so eager for my blood. Well I will drown you in it!"

"Enough a this chit chat." Matna heard her husband mutter. He charged the MidKnight and swung the mace again, aiming for her chest. Nadirah swung her head around to face his charge, then brought around one of her flaming fists to meet the mace. Her hand connected solidly with the wooden ball, halting its movement as if it had struck a wall. Suddenly it shattered into a rain of splinters.

The dwarf looked at the smoking pole in his hand in stupifaction, his mouth open in an O of surprise. Taking advantage of his distraction, Nadirah swung her leg around and kicked him. The dwarf's small body went flying into the side of one of the hastily built huts, causing the flimsy structure to collapse and bury him beneath the rubble.

"No!" Matna cried. She reached into the air as if to pull him back again but her fingers closed on nothing but empty air. She turned her angry glare back to the MidKnight. "You are a monster! You don't deserve peace!"

Leaping into the air, her transformation was nearly instantaneous. When she once more collided with her opponent, she was in the form of a large black lioness. She narrowly escaped another blow as she leaped out of range. Charging again, she swiped ferociously with her claws while evading the MidKnight's flaming fists, but the other doe was too fast for her to get close. The worst damage she was able to do was a few shallow slashes along the doe's legs and one deep cut along her arm.

The MidKnight was unlike any other opponent she had faced before. Weaponless, the doe attempted to gore with her long sharpened horns or kicked out her hooves. The fire surrounding her hands gave off no heat, but instead threatened to burn with cold. The MidKnight was quick, and surprisingly agile. Instead of growing slower and weaker, the undead warrior only grew stronger and faster the longer the fight went on. It was as if she were draining the druid of her own life force to use it against her.

Out of desperation, rather than bravery, the druid decided to take a wild risk to bring down her opponent. Bunching her tired muscles, she leapt up high enough to avoid the MidKnight's sweeping horns and twisted in midair to land on her back. Her claws dug into Nadirah's flesh, securing her in place while she kicked out with her hind legs in an attempt to throw her off balance.

Nadirah roared and threw back her head, her skull connecting with that of the druid on her back. She tossed her head in an attempt to gore the lioness, but the large cat managed to duck out of the way, suffering no more than a shallow strike across the muzzle.

Nadirah reached back and tried to snatch her attacker off of her back, but the lioness bit savagely into her arm before leaping clear again. Almost as soon as the druid landed, she felt the MidKnight's hoof glance off her ribs as the she kicked out awkwardly. Despite not suffering a solid connection, the druid's side burned as if she had been sliced open with a dagger.

Giving an angry snarl, she spun around and again leapt at the MidKnight, this time abandoning her feline form in mid air in order to tackle her opponent, sending them both tumbling to the ground. She grabbed the MidKnight by the throat to pin her down, and snatched a dagger from her belt. Swiftly, she raised the blade high in preparation of sinking it into the MidKnight's dark heart and ending her once and for all.

Nadirah grabbed at her wrist with both hands, attempting to free her neck from the druid's grip. When her eyes moved to the raised blade, she froze, and then all the fight seemed to leak out of her. The glow of her eyes faded and the black fire died away. All struggle ceased.

"Join your master in death!" She spat, foaming saliva covering her lips. Nadirah's eyes remained locked on the blade as it fell. The sharp dagger sliced easily through jerkin and flesh, splashing black ichor as it sank deep into the MidKnight's heart. She could feel the tremble of its suddenly labored beating through the handle.

Matna looked down at her prey with a smile of satisfaction on her lips. She ignored the agony of her injuries, her burning side and blistered wrist. The MidKnight's hands loosened and fell away and her eyes slid closed. Although the hand closed on the undead doe's throat was almost numb, she felt the beginnings of vibrations that she took for a death rattle.

Suddenly, Nadirah's eyes opened again and focused on the druid's face. Instead of the expected fear or even anger Matna had expected to see, there was mirth in her gaze. It wasn't a plea for mercy or even a final gasping curse that finally reached the druid's ears, it was laughter. It began as a trickle, but soon turned into a series of hysterical guffaws.

Matna was confused. She couldn't understand why the creature hadn't turned to dust or burst into flames. At the very least the doe should have stopped moving. A blow to the heart had never failed to kill a ghoul before. Both of her hands went limp and slid away until her arms fell limp at her sides. When realization came a moment later, the rest of her body became listless in resignation. "I can't kill you, can I." It wasn't posed as a question.

"No." Nadirah replied through her laughter, reaching up to tear the knife from her chest. "Certainly not with this. Now get off me, you pest." There was no malice in the swat of her arm but it still struck with enough force to send the Matna face-first to the soil.

The MidKnight rose from the ground and gave herself a quick brush off. "It was a good try, though. In another life, maybe we could have even been... well, not friends. I still don't particularly like you. But you may not be as worthless as I thought." Without waiting for the druid to respond, Nadirah turned away and fled away into the night.

Matna rose slowly, groaning softly from the aches that screamed in protest. She watched the MidKnight until she disappeared from sight, a loud crash reaching her ears moments later. She then turned her attention to the ruins containing her husband. He would need her attention, and she would need his help to chase down the MidKnight again.