[sblock=Melisande]"How was I supposed to know the window was trapped?" Araneau said, holding his shoulder, the wound on it festering and oozing green. "Ouch! Careful there."
Melisande smiled softly as she pushed and prodded the wound, much to Araneau's dismay. "Perhaps you shouldn't have been gawking at the ladies in waiting through it," she said as she spread a salve over the wound. "Here, drink this."
The swashbuckler's nose turned when he saw the vile brown ichor before him, but he tilted his head back and swallowed as best he could. Through sheer force of will, he kept down the rancid brew. "Blah, can't you make something that tastes good?"
"Why of course I can," the witch replied with a smirk, "but I made that especially for you."[/sblock]
How's that for a witty witch story?