Morgan almost pointed out that at least she'd tried to get his sliced-off extremity back, but now wasn't the time. "What?" she demanded. Miasma? Placing everyone here in danger? Yeah, okay. There was a slim chance this girl knew something they didn't, but if Morgan's money hadn't been stolen by a loony kidnapper masquerading as a mental health professional, it would have been on "whackjob." The air out there was fine.

"I don't know what this 'miasma'"--cue the air quotes with her non-sword hand--"stuff is, but I do know that you're still standing between us and the door. And that makes getting you out of my way just one more thing on my to-do list. En garde!"

With that, Morgan slashed her sword out in what was intended to be a sharp downward arc just a hair to the girl's right. Since she wasn't going for the kill here, the move was mostly designed to get their opponent to start moving (not to mention that the best defense was a good offense). Clearing the path would keep their options open. Morgan might not have superhuman voodoo powers like LeChuck, but someone used to fighting would probably recognize agility and an experienced sword arm as the bite that backed up her bark.

She still wasn't expecting much of a challenge, but at least her sword was doing something other than getting rusty--a nice change of pace for this place, in Morgan's book.