Combat was not Sloane's strongest attribute. Sneak attacks and maybe some basic unarmed melee, sure. But facing an angry lowlife and his sword was exactly what she was not about. Fortunately--or perhaps unfortunately--her stalling and circling wasn't for naught. He was staked into the ground by a spear from behind. Another moment and it could've been Sloane in his spot; she gasped in surprise and stepped back with unsure footing. Then, at the rustling, she drops back behind her tree. With her heart beating loud in her chest, she rested a hand over her lips to quiet her anxious breathing. Carefully, slowly, she peeked out at the newcomer. One glance was enough and she retreated behind her cover again, eyes narrowed as she tried to process what she had seen. An undead of some sort, of course, but why? Why was it here?