The dancing girl in her vardo wagon continued to peer into the basin of water.  She bore witness to the vampire's defeat and lamented the lost opportunity to inflict more spells upon the woman that had casually tossed her aside like a thrice chewed reed.  She had so many ideas she had wanted to try, none of them lethal but all of them greatly annoying.  Again, she chided herself; she wished she'd had presence of mind to rip a hank of hair or lift some personal object belonging to the vampire.  She really shouldn't have panicked but who ever anticipated a random vampire attack in a tavern?

Kill her, the dancing girl urged, just lop off her bedeviled head and be done with it.  The minion would be absorbed into the mad realm, become part of the screaming winds for all eternity.  Still, she rather suspected the barbarian would spare her or at the very least the lizard sorcerer would intervene.