She goes after Scar

Eilwy darted across the Pit, stopping only to push the ocaisional creature out of her way or to fire bolts of flame at the goblin guards.

Scar saw her coming, and bolted deeper into the forest. Eilwy followed him grimly. Her long robe was loose enough for her to move quickly over the tretcherous roots in the forest, and her magic allowed her to see keenly in the dark.

Scar's path through the forest was easy to follow. He was a goblin, not a ranger.

She pressed forward through the dark bushes and shrubs, and the sounds of destruction and mayhem faded behind her in the darkness. The forest closed in all around her.

She slipped through a gap between several trees and found Scar trapped, desperately looking for a way to cross the deadly, fast flowing river suddenly blocking his path.

He span as she entered the dark clearing, and dropped into a crouch.

"Black Reaver," he sneered. "I might have known. Although it's hard to recognise you with your clothes on."

"I can hear the fear in your voice, little goblin!" Eilwy grinned mockingly. "You're about to wet your pants! There's no one to protect you here - no faeries, no magic! Just me and you. And you're going to pay for what you did in the dungeon."

Scar started circling clockwise, eyes sharp. "You liked it, bitch! And now you're back for more?" He grinned. "I enjoyed fucking the Dark Faery, but I'm ready... And you are sooo cute when you're helpless."

A crackle of energy flashed between Eilwy's fingers. "I'm not helpless now, goblin. Why don't you come and have a taste?"

Scar suddenly feinted to the left, and Eilwy fired a blast of electric bolts at him. But Scar was quick; he changed his footing with a speed that took Eilwy by surprise and dived to his right, throwing a dart from his belt in a sudden flash.

Eilwy felt the dart prick her throat, and plucked it out with a sharp gasp.

It was too late. The dart's poison was starting to flow through her. She could feel her energy fading and weakness passing through her.

She slumped to her knees with a cry of frustration.

Scar moved forward, grinning in the darkness, the wicked looking knife in his hand glinting softly in the moonlight.

The growing bulge in his pants was all too obvious.

Scar licked his lips. He had been **** to rush with the Dark Faery, but out here in the darkness he would have all the time in the world. He intended to enjoy this unexpected opportunity with the Black Reaver.

After all, in the end she was just another frightened little girl.

"The boots can stay on," Scar teased. "You look good in them. The robe, though..."

He reached out with his clawed hand.

Eilwy **** herself to concentrate. There was a spell... if she could speak the words before the growing numbness reached her lips, she could still salvage the situation.

If not, she was at Scar's mercy. And she knew what that would mean.