[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/cpsNZiy.png[/img]
[sub][@PrankFox][@Crimson Flame][@Yankee][/sub][/center]
[i]“We’re just looking for someone, okay?”[/i]

And in that moment, Nea woke up. Oh. Ok. That’s how it was. Of course. Wow. Just looking for someone, huh? Not looking for her, but someone else, huh? Probably someone tall and lithe, with hips wider than her shoulders and breasts the size of melons, huh? Ain’t hurting anyone, huh? [i]We’re all friends here, huh?![/i]

[b][i]JUST FRIENDS, HUH?!!![/i][/b]

Nea Honeyforge of the Highlands was a peaceful girl. She enjoyed idling away warm spring days in the orchards when she could, listening to the chirping of the birds and the buzzing of the bees as she drank in the sweet aroma of ripening fruits. She enjoyed talking to her fellow maids about all sorts of nonsense, boasting about things she’s never done before, laughing over stupid word plays or silly gossip. She ate healthily, slept as well as she could, and prayed on the holy days to Tazia on high, as pious as any other Highlander. She was a peaceful girl, after all, unwieldy with a weapon and not prone to fits of violence.

She was also a sixteen year old girl who could dismantle a boar in half an hour with a single knife (admittedly also with others assisting). And she did not shy from the many penises she removed during such bloody work.

The red of embarrassment, of such naïve dreams of being accosted by four ruggedly handsome men, turned into the red of embarrassment, of a maiden deceived, honor besmirched by rapscallions on the road. And that, in turn, gave way to uncommon indignation, a desire to retaliate! That leathery-skinned old bat. Who taught him it was a good idea to keep such an unseemly wisp of a beard? That shiny-toothed creeper. Didn’t he learn his lesson about cleaning is teeth after the first one rotted out and fell?

[color=fff79a]“We,”[/color] she said, with all the fury of a furry puppy, [color=fff79a]“are [i]not[/i] friends.”[/color]

Nea gripped her club, knuckles tightening over the stout wood until they turned white, her gaze settling on the smooth-talker. A swift strike to the crotch then? Or maybe a hearty whap to the face? How about end his ability to have children? Not that any woman would want to anyways. Pah, that bitch Mira. Bet this was her design. The maid drew her breath, hardened her amber gaze, an-

Lightning cracked, a thunderous boom following instantly as a magical force shot into the leathery-skinned uncle, shooting into his chest, through his blood, down his limbs…and then into Nea herself.

[i]BZZZT[/i] went the maid, and she promptly fell unconscious.