Editing Kurga the Scavenger (section)

==Background==
Arix knew this would happen.

As he stared into the empty eye sockets of the skeleton advancing on him, reeking of saltwater and rot, he cursed himself for booking this passage. Of course the journey would be dangerous. Of course the dead could rise from the sea at any moment, laying waste to everyone aboard. And now, seeing all of his well-founded fears come to pass, he clutched his lute tighter, and awaited the inevitable.

Just then, those eye sockets, along with the rest of his attacker’s skull, exploded in a burst of bone shards. The guide the crew hired, Kurga, stood behind its remains. She had smashed it apart with a heavy-looking mace, and silence descended on the ship.

Arix looked around, panting. He was alive! Everything had come to pass, except the last thing! He was exhausted yet exultant, and his composer’s mind set to framing the encounter as a stirring ballad, with his savior as the heroine.

“Kurga the Scavenger”, he muttered.

She scowled at him, the rush of battle still hot in her veins. She had taken a lot of guff over the years for being a half-breed, and grown used to crushing it quickly. But for this scrawny heap of shit to give her lip, after saving his miserable hide…

“What did you call me, pipsqueak!?”, she snarled, her weapon raised to claim another skull.

Arix flinched away from her. “Oh no! I, uh, I meant that you eat the dead for breakfast!”

Kurga paused a moment. She had an image of zombies sitting around a campfire, telling each other “ghost stories” about her.

About *her*.

A crooked grin cracked her scowl. “Kurga the Scavenger”, she rasped, trying the words out in her mouth. She liked the taste.

Giving him a nod, she said, “Okay pipsqueak, you get another day”. She turned away to tend to the wounded.

Arix sighed with relief, then looked at one of the crew nearby. “Another day?”, he asked.

“To live”, came the reply, and the minstrel’s face fell like a stone.