[b]Selene Silverblood - Dusk on the 19th day.[/b]

Nubina. It felt like one of those things in dreams that you are constantly running towards. But the object never gets closer. These days, Selene's nightmares were receding. Not because she was calm. But because they were coming to undying life around her.

The forest made her uneasy. She could feel the taint of decay even in the very element of Water. Even Kartoll had forsaken this place, giving way to mangled travesties of life. For two days, Selene had felt a mounting sense of unease. The very air was thick with palpable tension.

"I don't bloody like this," Daram, her Captain, was muttering next to her as they cantered. "This is all wrong. Look at those fuckin' trees!"

Selene tried not to look at the trees. Or the ground. She kept her gaze slightly upwards, at the sky. She could feel it, under all the death and decay, that very smell of growth. But rather than give her hope, it only served to remind her the immensity of the taint.

"Burn me," Daram was saying, "but these woods can make a grown man shit his breeches. We are bloody stupid fucks to follow that Duchess into this mess."

"And what would you rather do, Daram? Wait for the corpses to come home and kill you?" Selene retorted. "Today or next year, death is an inevitability."

"I would prefer next year," Daram said softly, averting his gaze. "I'm not afraid of death, m'lady. It comes to us all. I just think-"

But just what he did think, he never got to say. Selene saw the arrow strike him just under the armpit, right at the place where his armor was the weakest. With a soft grunt, Daram toppled off his horse.

"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!" came the cry, half a moment later. Chaos erupted all around her as she watched Daram try to pull the arrow out.

"Don't!" she said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. "It's probably barbed." She carefully broke off the arrow and placed her hand on Daram's chest.

"By Kartoll's divine grace, by all the vestigal virgins of all the meadows, by the waters of the Sacred Pool of Kartoll, let the arms of the Undead touch not your spirit."

She sensed the divine power flow through her as she cauterized the wound against the magical infection of the Undead. Daram should live, hopefully.

But Selene did not have time to dwell on him. Instinctively, she wove a shield of ice and held it in her left hand. The skeleton archers were finding their marks unerringly. Selene quickly sent blasts of ice spikes in their direction, moving quickly, not waiting to see if her blows found their marks. She could not let herself be caught at close quarters.

"BELIA'S SHIELD!" someone shouted from behind her. The cry gave her some hope. She turned around to see a powerful man with a greatsword plunging into a group of ghouls with not a care. His blade moved in a blur, dispatching multiple ghouls.

The only warning Selene had was a guttural snarl. By divine fortune or skill, she twisted quick enough to evade the ghoul's claws.

"No you don't!" snarled Selene. She knew what a ghoul can do. She had healed a ghoul's wounds before. The memory of that wound brought with it the memory of her first love. And with it, anger.

She searched for the presence of water within the ghoul's body. The Undead were usually dry beings, but they still had some fluid in their body to keep it all together. She sensed it, and in her fury, let it boil. The ghoul erupted in a mess of boils and blisters.

"You will not take the land of the living you miserable spawn!" she screamed as she rent the ghoul apart. Immediately, she let her ice shield drop and started sending bolts of ice spikes into the oncoming horde with both her hands.