Casualties
Melissa glared down at the undead as another new stinger grew to replace the last one. She had struck him half a dozen times with her stinger, leaving smears of the caustic venom sizzling on their enchanted armor impotently. One of her scythe limbs had been cleaved in half by that cursed blade of his. She had more or less come to the conclusion his trump card, the necrotic fireball his kind was so feared for, was already expended. She needed to only avoid that runic blade and his decaying touch. Her greater speed had allowed her to do so, with only the one mishap so far. But in turn, she seemed unable to even scratch his enchanted armor. They were at a stalemate.