Monday, 16 July 2012


Wanda ducked before she could help herself. It was only as she hunched down that she remembered that she desperately did not want the hem of her skirt (or anything else, for that matter) to make contact with the glistening mystery of the sewer's floor.

Granted, her clothing was already dishevelled and stained from her last encounter with the floor, but that cold stone had nothing on the disturbingly soft slop upon which she now found herself.

On the up-side, she acknowledged a new sensation: exhilaration. Of course, hearing the voices up ahead and the sudden hush of the elf had frozen her heart in her chest and left her stomach in her throat, but now she had seen a man die. She was just more prepared.

Not that there was much she could contribute - any upcoming action would be down to the burly shapes hunched before her. Although... she had her dagger...


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