[???]
This was not at all how she imagined things to go.
Astrid had prepared herself for something grand, something fierce and valiant. Blood and glory, and more—yes, that she had expected.
This was not battle—it was a kind of odd wrongness, like a fever dream going wilder. Her instincts, as tempered as they were, screamed that this was not how things were supposed to be.
A high-pitched whine screamed past her—she turned just in time to see a glob of black mass streak past, dragging a blur of violet light in its wake, its inscribed symbols. Her sabatons slid slightly as she sidestepped, her braided hair flaring behind her. Another one of the darkness-born entities lunged for her—a monstrosity about her size, long, spindly arms cracking through the air as it descended.
Without hesitation, Astrid gripped Leifa Allr tighter.
