Lirrah swallowed heavily as the Witch giggled, but the smile never left her face. What did she mean by that? If she was going to make any Nem into a doll, she'd want Lirrah, wouldn't she? Lirrah was simply too cute and amazing, and would make too fantastic of a doll to pass up. Lirrah slowly backed away. Her negotiating didn't pan out quite how she wanted it to. If anything, it probably made her seem an appetizing plaything.

As Velvetica and Tabitha continued to talk, a few things came to light, but Lirrah was a bit more concerned with making herself look very small and non-threatening to give the words much credence. These tidbits were thoughts for later. Thoughts for when they weren't [i]right in front of a super powerful doll woman[/i]. Still, things seemed to be calming down.

And then, when things were at their calmest, the storm broke out.

Sworn to Velt? Test your resolve? Lirrah nearly had a heart attack creeping through an empty tomb.

And Lirrah was no Lion.

The moment Tabitha's murder-doll sprang forward, Lirrah bolted. What could she do? A few plans ran through her mind, but they were all filled with so many uncertainties that she dare not even try. Acid was the only thing she had that might work, but the splashback might hurt whoever was engaged with it. Her experience in Nem archery made her a prime candidate to gum up the doll's joints with arrows, but she didn't know if she had the power to put an arrow into what she assumed was some sort of magically-enforced material. She was a slightly above-average archer with average gear.

But she [i]did[/i] know of a better archer who might have [i]better[/i] gear.

When Lirrah sprinted, it was [i]glorious[/i]. Her stubby legs somehow carried her farther and faster than almost any Lion. Lirrah was always very proud of her speed, though that speed couldn't really be turned into power or competence on the battlefield. She jumped, slid, and rolled across the ancient debris like water flowing through a creek, never losing speed, and called out for Irian so as not to lose any time. They needed his help, not hers.

[color=f49ac2]"IIII-RIIII-AAAN,"[/color] Lirrah's terrified squeak echoed through the hallway, bursting through the entrance where the Elf was keeping watch, [color=f49ac2]"THERE'S A WITCH! NOT FIGHTING! MURDER DOLL IS FIGHTING! SHOOT! SHOOT SCARY BLADE DOLL! NOT WITCH! NOT SHOOT WITCH!"[/color]