[Vivi/Altair/Merri/Open]
She hadn't noticed the staffs behind the Knights until thunder shot down on Merrion. Quickly, she readied a Cure, casting it on him. The ghost was still hovering nearby, watching as those curious. It was likely it had yet to be given direction, but she knew not. Her experience and knowledge on the subject of the undead was admittedly little; she had done some research after Alistair's death to reassure herself that he would not be disturbed, but the tomes she'd read had been purely theological in nature rather than practical.
A Knight approached, swinging his sword down; she'd barely had time to move, and the blade cut into her arm. Her knife afforded little protection, but she slashed out anyway, rending a piece of its flesh but doing little else.
The ghost suddenly swooped in from behind her, passing through her. Immediately, she felt chilled and sluggish, like her body was refusing to do as she needed it to. It wasn't until the ghost turned that she realized it. The cold she felt was nothing compared to the dread that washed over her.
The tiepin gleamed dully in the lamplight and she could make out vague features - a slightly crooked nose, a hint of a beard, a patch of unruly curly hair.