Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-34263048-20181207162014/@comment-36855838-20181208004406

"Hello violence my old friend, I've come to use ypu yet again."

She began to back up, it was a start.

"Little evish ladies who talk of slavery should know their place, where was it again?"

She draws her whip, the head so like that of a hooded, spitting cobra.

"Hell, IS YOUR PLACE, YOU DEAD HARLOT!"

I hurl a boulder at her, her whip arm gets dislocated as she just barely dodges.

I grab the whip, tying it to the boulder, and then heft the makeshift hammer onto my back.

She tries to stand, but the pain is clearly too much.

"Have mercy, HAVE MERCY!"

"Hmm, that's a funny one, a real knee-"

CRUNCH

"-slapper."

CRUNCH

Her knees broken, she pulls with her good arm, trying to reach a bag nearby.

I walk over, grabbing it and hanging it from a treebranch.

"Now who said that one? Where could I have heard it before?"

Her eyes were filled with tears.

"That's RIGHT! My mother told that one, when the slaver's son, you know, the one who raped her.

CRUNCH

Her other elbow.

"When he stabbed her twenty-

Squish

"Damn-"

Squelch

TIMES!

I Hefted the boulder high, my finger shoved through her arm, a dagger in her hand.

"Mercy, hmm?"

Yes, I can do that, maybe I'll finally be free from the shackles of rage?

I throw the boulder into a nearby pond.

Pulling out my notebook, and I begin to recite a tale, with my talisman, semi-sacred herbs stuffed tightly into a tied-off handkerchief, in hand.

Bartholemew said:

Long ago, when the sea goddess was merely a pond spirit, another goddess, who had fallen to earth, fell once more, scraping her flesh away against the walls of the cave in which poseidon lived.

The young sprite was terrified of the looming figure, but still she guided her to her spring, there she soaked in the water, and her flesh was regrown, her broken bones restored.

And wuith a rush of cool wind which felt like springwater, and a burst of soothing deep blue light, her flesh knit itself together, and the firmness of her limbs returned.

Exhausted as I was, I recited the tale once more. And soon she was fully healed.

I collapsed to the ground, out of breath, excited at last.

I snatched her dagger from the ground, it had fallen when she began to glare incredulously at her hands.

I aimed carefully for the heart.

"What was that?"

"Poseidon's ''mercy,"' I spat.

I plunged the dagger, and everything went cold.

---

I woke in a cloth-filled chamber, the dark skinned elf was seated before me in more modest garb, a long hooded robe with long slits down the sides, which showed off her legs quite nicel-

I'm on a bed.

I'm on a soft bed, and there's a blanket on me, and she's sitting in a chair with her eyes closed and-

She's been crying.

''When did I become. . .that?''

More importantly, how an I alive?

The talismn was in her hand, and the dagger lay on the bedside table, caked in dried blood.

I reached out feebly, but she woke before I could take it back.

"No, thank you. I'll be needing this if my husband tries to kill himself again!"

Husband?

"No, miss, you misunderstand, you've not recited the tale properly, I'm at death's door as it is, please let me heal myself."

She reluctantly hands over the talisman.

Now, where's my-

"-notebook!"

By her expression, she left it on the forest floor.

I begin to recite a more direct passage, in leu of the true tale.

Bartholemew said:

Long ago, a spring sprite. . . met a goddess, who had fallen to earth, scraping her flesh away against the walls of the cave in which the young sprite lived.

The young spirit was terrified of the looming figure, but still she guided her to her spring, there she soaked in the water, and her flesh was regrown, her broken bones restored.

A blinding blue flash filled the room, and once I had recited it thrice, my breathing grew slightly easier.

I was far more exhausted, but at least I would live.