Throgg panted, his bloody axe dangling limply in his hand. Stitches lay in pieces around the orc. Entrails and bloody bits made the center of Darkshire look like a butcher's yard.
"We're not done here yet," Miranda shouted. She leaned out an inn door, pointing up the road. Undead still shambled toward the town. Flashes of moonfire lit up the road, and burning shafts streaked in the air. Lolegolas and the Gilnean held the flow of zombies back, but they couldn't do it forever.
"We need to talk about how you know my name," Throgg muttered.
"That's what I do," Miranda quipped. She quickly jumped out of the door. Bizarrely, Throgg noticed she was barefoot. "You're late. Something delayed you ... "
"Brewfest," Throgg explained.
"Whatever," the human girl continued. "You were late, so Abercrombie has been very busy. He made a deal with Sylvanas."
"The Dark Lady?" the orc gasped. "The leader of the Forsaken?"
"No, the puppy," Miranda derided. "Look, long story short, he's got a valkyr helping him. Your friends can stall the zombies long enough, but we need to go kill the valkyr."