Cesidia nods, committing the name to memory. She crouches behind a crate of supplies, and swiftly takes out the guards with two arrows. She cuts the supply line with hardly any hitches, except from when her underdress had drifted down her chest as she worked and a goblin thought she was offering herself.
The blaze flies just over her head, and hits the goblins square in the chest, and they ignite like torches, howling in agony. He runs over to her, and jumps over her, wings spread.
Cesidia sighs with a nod. “I promised myself I wouldn’t need your help,” she mutters. “That I could handle this myself, and I had to go and screw it up.”
Cesidia huffs. “I panicked because my dress slipped, I guess while I was working, and some goblins saw it and thought I was as you say ‘offering myself’. Excuse me if they don’t cover what to do when a lustful goblin lays an eye on you and starts to give chase in the court.”