Pirogoeth was extremely impassive. Correction, she LOOKED extremely impassive. She was, in fact, quite emotional when something hit her. She was just good at looking like she didn't care.

Today...today it was very hard.

"Thou art not real. Thou dost not feel right. Thou art not real!"

"Yo, Pirowrench! What sort of babbling is that? Hast thee finally lost thine mind? Always knew thou was crazy."

"Thou art not real..." Pirogoeth said, turning away from the image of Largo, heading down another hall. "Dost not feel right, dost not, thus not real."

"Mine domina, thou must take action! The invaders are coming!"

"All dead. None survived. I saw them possessed," Pirogoth murmured, changing course again then face the one who resembled the captain of her guard.

"Thou should relax." Pirogoeth froze, her eyes widening. She felt arms wrap around her shoulders from behind. "Let me take care of thee. Thou hast been fighting for so long. I can take care of thee."

Pirogoeth murmured something quietly.

"What was that?"

"Shut up...thou is not Moh. I killed him! Thou is not real!" Pirogoeth shouted, pushing away the arms and turning, fire bursting from her hand to banish the ghost.