Posted by War Scribe & Willow Bark on 5/15/2008, 9:17 am, in reply to "Re: In The Clutches of Evil"
“Well, what do you think?” inquired War Scribe as she loosened her robe to reveal a black leather nightgown that hugged every curve of her voluptuous frame.
“I think you make me sick,” replied Willow Bark in complete disgust.
“Aww, why do you say that? What does Alyson have that I don’t have?”
“Sanity, kindness, tenderness,” the Ranger rattled off without delay, “Understanding, mercy, love--”
“—I get it! I get it!” snapped the Drowling cutting him off as he placed her hands on her hips in consternation, “She’s a better female than I—“
“—in every way!” concluded Willow Bark defiantly, “She is everything that you are not and can never hope to be, Drowling. Understand this, my heart does not beat for you, it never will. My heart beats for Alyson and Alyson alone. No other!”
“Oh, we’ll see about that, Ranger,” War Scribe hissed as she went to her nightstand and retrieved an ebony goblet filled with a dark liquid, “Guess what I have in my hand, Willow, I decided to take a page from Gonathradi and I cooked up a concoction to take you from the Elementalist. Basically, if you refuse to love me willingly, then I am going to twist your mind with this potion until you do so.”
“I think not, Drowling! I will never drink that brew of yours!” Willow Bark promptly shut his mouth and pursed his lips tightly.
“Oh we shall see, Willow, we shall see indeed,” The Drowling immediately seized the Ranger’s nose and held it for a full twenty minutes before Willow ran out of air and opened his mouth. Once he did so, War Scribe poured her frothy love potion into the Ranger’s mouth, “There you go, baby, there you go! Drink it all, Willow, drink it all down and be mine! FOREVER!”
Once the Drowling emptied the goblet of its contents, the Chronicler smiled at the Ranger, “Now how do you feel, lover?”
Willow Bark promptly spat the liquid back into War Scribe’s face and viciously smiled, “I feel fine, War Scribe. But pardon me for not replying promptly, it is bad form to speak with one’s mouth full.”
“ARRGGHH!” screamed War Scribe whose hair, face and chest were now covered with her love potion, “YOU—YOU—YOU—WOOD ELF! Look what you did! Do you know how difficult it is to wash this stuff out of leather? Well? Do you?”
“Is it more difficult than blood from when I bit your lip?” asked the Ranger in a seemingly innocent tone of voice.
The Drowling turned in a huff and marched out of the room, “I will have you as my lover, Willow Bark, I SWEAR IT!”
“Only in your dreams, Drowling,” retorted the Ranger, “Only in your dreams.”
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