"Good, keep fighting," her captor snarled. "I'll never tire of fucking you, like the whore you are. Maybe I'll let my ghouls have a go at you, after a while, I'm sure you'll enjoy the--"<br/><br/>His words were cut off, as he suddenly stopped thrusting, and she'd feel a spray of blood across her back. Twisting back to look, she'd see the point of a dagger, emerging from the necromancer's ribs, his eyes wide, blood dripping from his mouth. The knife twisted, bringing a new spray of blood, and he continued to struggle for a moment, trying to cast a spell, before slowly going limp, and collapsing to the ground in a bloody heap.<br/><br/>Standing behind him, carrying a long, now very bloody dagger, was an elven man, whom she did not recognize, with a grin on his face. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he said. He had short, pale blond hair, dark eyes and a patchwork of thin, white scars, covering his skin. "Thanks for keeping him distracted, that could've been tough, if he'd been actually paying attention."