Night Watch I: Eliza, Ward of Andrew

*Blasko’s POV*

Eliza’s sparring with Pete had gone pretty much as had I anticipated it might. Well, I had, honestly, thought that one of them was going to break at least one of the staves, not that they would just be discarded in favor of outright mayhem, so that was a bonus. Good for the budget, Doyle would be pleased.

It had also been so long since I’d seen a Dark Mountain Elf in action (and, well… at the time, let’s just say, we weren’t exactly fighting from the same side of the battlefield), I’d forgotten about the whole weird-eyeball/orc-like tusk-spurt thing. Having seen Eliza get irritated after Pete had accidentally whapped her tummy, now I remembered it clearly: full-blooded Dark Mountain Elves, after a really painful blow, were fucking scary. Their eyes protruded from the socket and made an audible rattle as they tremored, totally midnight-black. In seconds, they’d grow these gnarly tusks, larger than any forest hog, sharp as the devil’s tongue, and go nuts, even biting you with them. I was really curious to watch Eliza’s little miniature versions and see how long they took to recede. So much for letting her background emerge gradually. There were bound to be several Watchmen present who were either well-read or well-traveled and able to put two and two together. Thanks Pete, you big galoot.

I considered my options as Eliza finished her cup of water. I’d asked her to stay clear of Andrew, for now, knowing he was in a testy mood. Mostly, I just didn’t want to have to deal with it if she untied him- then they’d have to catch him up again. Even if she only took Andrew’s gag out, he’d either yell obscenities, or goobery, foofoo, lovey-nonsense, and I didn’t have the patience for either when I needed to concentrate. I still needed a swordsman.

Frankly, I could do it, but I knew the odds of getting my ass handed to me were better than decent, as I was a power over speed guy, and Eliza clearly had me beat. Besides, it looked bad to have your highest-ranking officer get his ass kicked. I could order anyone to do it, and then they’d have to, but after Pete, I’d just have someone quaking in their boots, who shat their pants the moment Eliza moved. I knew Eliza said she wasn’t a very good swordsman, but, given what I’d seen, that meant I’d need our very best swordsman. I needed our cockiest, most egotistical, bastard. Someone incapable of giving up out of fear.

Hmm… Actually, that settled that. But, this could prove to be difficult.

Notes

i wonder who that could be?

don't forget- every hour, by gum!

vote for bvb for 2015's most devoted fans through december 1st for loudwire's 5th annual music awards