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<blockquote data-quote="Drusilia Nailo" data-source="post: 870605" data-attributes="member: 2062">She was in the floating hulk, with the other prisoners.&nbsp; Her face throbbed with pain where she'd been cut, and she could feel the maggots beginning to eat at the rotting flesh.&nbsp; The other prisoners were licking their lips, looking at her hungrily.&nbsp; One of them grinned at her, with green, crooked teeth, and started to step towards her.&nbsp; She reached down for her rapier, only to find that she had none.&nbsp;&nbsp; She watched the other prisoner advance on her, knowing that she was dead.&nbsp; &quot;You wouldn' t be in this mess if you had just stayed with your father,&quot; the man told her.&nbsp; And suddenly, his ugly green teeth went away.&nbsp; His smile, she realized with a start, was just like her father's.Dru's eyes snapped open, and she tried to sit up.&nbsp;&nbsp; Her head began to spin wildly, forcing her to lie back down.&nbsp; Where was she?&nbsp; It wasn't on a hulk.&nbsp; She wiped some of the sweat out of her eyes, and peered around the dimly lit room.&nbsp; She didn't recognize it.&nbsp;&nbsp; It was filled with furniture, the kind that was designed to look expensive, but was really cheap.&nbsp; There was&nbsp; the bed, which she was in, a chest of drawers, two of which&nbsp; seemed so stuffed full of clothes that they were about to burst, a writing desk covered with papers, and scrolls,&nbsp; and in one corner, a bookshelf.&nbsp; She squinted, trying to make out some of the titles.&nbsp; &quot;The Dragon Slayer and the Elven Maiden.&quot;&nbsp; &quot;The Paladin of Darkly Keep.&quot;&nbsp; &quot;A War of Heroes.&quot;&nbsp; Dru smirked to herself.&nbsp; Whoever lived here liked the heroic fiction that had become popular with the advent of the printing press.&nbsp; Her eyes finally fell on a thick tome, carefully bound.&nbsp; It was kept away from the other books.&nbsp; She recognized what it was immediately:&nbsp; a spellbook.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;What had happened to her?&nbsp; Suddenly aware that the entire left side of her face was aching, she reached up and touched it, or would have, if the bandages hadn't been in the way.&nbsp; And then it came back to her.&nbsp; The serial killer.&nbsp; His dagger.&nbsp; The fight in the alley.&nbsp;&nbsp; She must have gotten the wound sickness, despite drenching it in ale after they'd made their report to Captain Donnach...&nbsp; it had hurt like h#ll.&nbsp; She hoped that Di'Fier was managing well without her.&nbsp; &nbsp; As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened, and Di'Fier stepped into the room.&nbsp; His anxious gaze took her in, and then he shut the door behind him.&nbsp; &quot;You're awake,&quot; he said.&nbsp; &quot;That's a good sign.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Is this your apartment?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier nodded, and then sat on the edge of the bed.&nbsp; &quot;Yeah.&nbsp; I hope you don't mind, but I didn't know where else to put you.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dru chuckled.&nbsp; &quot;Mind?&nbsp; No...&nbsp; you have my thanks.&nbsp; It's pretty bad, isn't it?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; With a sigh, Di'Fier said, &quot;Yes.&nbsp; The wound got infected.&nbsp; You've been feverish and delerious for several hours now.&quot;&nbsp; He reached into his cloak, and said, &quot;You know how we were wishing that we could afford a curative potion for you?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dru nodded, wearily.&nbsp; She was trying to think of a way to get better, and didn't have the energy to respond verbally.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Well, one of the other watchmen started up a collection at headquarters for you.&nbsp; It's not a potion, but it's a poultice from the alchemist.&nbsp; It should help purge the wound as it heals.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dru narrowed her eyes, suddenly jolted back to the conversation.&nbsp; &quot;Which one of the watchmen?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Oh, I don't think you know him that well.&nbsp; His name's Jaffar.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dru nodded.&nbsp; &quot;I've seen him around,&quot; she said, thinking of the time that he had purposely not arrested her for killing that pimp.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier withdrew a small, gauze wrapped bundle.&nbsp; &quot;Here,&quot; he said, holding it out to her.&nbsp; &nbsp; With a grimace, she took the poultice from him, and unwrapped it part way.&nbsp; &quot;It smells terrible,&quot; she said.&nbsp; &quot;But I'll put up with the smell if it will make me get better quicker.&quot;&nbsp;&nbsp; She took the bandage off of her face, and pressed the poultice against her wound.&nbsp; It stung at first, but then settled down to just a faint tingling.&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier looked her over, and frowned. &quot;You're going to have a scar,&quot; he said.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Dru grunted, and lay back on the pillow.&nbsp; &quot;I guess it's the best that I can expect.&nbsp; I'll have to thank Jaffar when I'm better.&quot;&nbsp; She hesitated for a moment, and then added, &quot;Why did Jaffar give this to me?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier shrugged.&nbsp; &quot;I don't know.&nbsp; He seemed pretty insistent that everyone donate some money for it, though.&nbsp; &quot;There is,&quot; he hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged.&nbsp; &quot;A rumor that he likes you.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Well, that's nice of him,&quot; she said, pretending that she didn't notice the import of her partner's words.&nbsp;&nbsp; &quot;Heh.&nbsp; This is a high price to pay for making that arrest, but at least the b*st*rd is behind bars, right?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier stiffened, but didn't say anything.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;We arrested him...&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier opened his mouth, and then shut it again.&nbsp; &nbsp; Dru suddenly felt weary.&nbsp; &quot;He walked, didn't he?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; He nodded, sighing.&nbsp; &quot;Yes.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dru snarled.&nbsp; &quot;I should have known,&quot; she said bitterly.&nbsp; &quot;Someone always knows someone who can get them out of trouble.&nbsp; He's going to keep killing.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier grimaced.&nbsp; &quot;Yeah, I know.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Unless he's stopped.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Di'Fier frowned, but nodded.&nbsp; &quot;Yeah.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Arresting him isn't going to stop him.&nbsp; As we've seen.&nbsp; So I suppose that we're just going to have to kill him.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Drusilia Nailo, post: 870605, member: 2062"] [i]She was in the floating hulk, with the other prisoners. Her face throbbed with pain where she'd been cut, and she could feel the maggots beginning to eat at the rotting flesh. The other prisoners were licking their lips, looking at her hungrily. One of them grinned at her, with green, crooked teeth, and started to step towards her. She reached down for her rapier, only to find that she had none. She watched the other prisoner advance on her, knowing that she was dead. "You wouldn' t be in this mess if you had just stayed with your father," the man told her. And suddenly, his ugly green teeth went away. His smile, she realized with a start, was just like her father's.[/i] Dru's eyes snapped open, and she tried to sit up. Her head began to spin wildly, forcing her to lie back down. Where was she? It wasn't on a hulk. She wiped some of the sweat out of her eyes, and peered around the dimly lit room. She didn't recognize it. It was filled with furniture, the kind that was designed to look expensive, but was really cheap. There was the bed, which she was in, a chest of drawers, two of which seemed so stuffed full of clothes that they were about to burst, a writing desk covered with papers, and scrolls, and in one corner, a bookshelf. She squinted, trying to make out some of the titles. "The Dragon Slayer and the Elven Maiden." "The Paladin of Darkly Keep." "A War of Heroes." Dru smirked to herself. Whoever lived here liked the heroic fiction that had become popular with the advent of the printing press. Her eyes finally fell on a thick tome, carefully bound. It was kept away from the other books. She recognized what it was immediately: a spellbook. What had happened to her? Suddenly aware that the entire left side of her face was aching, she reached up and touched it, or would have, if the bandages hadn't been in the way. And then it came back to her. The serial killer. His dagger. The fight in the alley. She must have gotten the wound sickness, despite drenching it in ale after they'd made their report to Captain Donnach... it had hurt like h#ll. She hoped that Di'Fier was managing well without her. As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened, and Di'Fier stepped into the room. His anxious gaze took her in, and then he shut the door behind him. "You're awake," he said. "That's a good sign." "Is this your apartment?" Di'Fier nodded, and then sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I didn't know where else to put you." Dru chuckled. "Mind? No... you have my thanks. It's pretty bad, isn't it?" With a sigh, Di'Fier said, "Yes. The wound got infected. You've been feverish and delerious for several hours now." He reached into his cloak, and said, "You know how we were wishing that we could afford a curative potion for you?" Dru nodded, wearily. She was trying to think of a way to get better, and didn't have the energy to respond verbally. "Well, one of the other watchmen started up a collection at headquarters for you. It's not a potion, but it's a poultice from the alchemist. It should help purge the wound as it heals." Dru narrowed her eyes, suddenly jolted back to the conversation. "Which one of the watchmen?" "Oh, I don't think you know him that well. His name's Jaffar." Dru nodded. "I've seen him around," she said, thinking of the time that he had purposely not arrested her for killing that pimp. Di'Fier withdrew a small, gauze wrapped bundle. "Here," he said, holding it out to her. With a grimace, she took the poultice from him, and unwrapped it part way. "It smells terrible," she said. "But I'll put up with the smell if it will make me get better quicker." She took the bandage off of her face, and pressed the poultice against her wound. It stung at first, but then settled down to just a faint tingling. Di'Fier looked her over, and frowned. "You're going to have a scar," he said. Dru grunted, and lay back on the pillow. "I guess it's the best that I can expect. I'll have to thank Jaffar when I'm better." She hesitated for a moment, and then added, "Why did Jaffar give this to me?" Di'Fier shrugged. "I don't know. He seemed pretty insistent that everyone donate some money for it, though. "There is," he hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "A rumor that he likes you." "Well, that's nice of him," she said, pretending that she didn't notice the import of her partner's words. "Heh. This is a high price to pay for making that arrest, but at least the b*st*rd is behind bars, right?" Di'Fier stiffened, but didn't say anything. "We arrested him..." Di'Fier opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Dru suddenly felt weary. "He walked, didn't he?" He nodded, sighing. "Yes." Dru snarled. "I should have known," she said bitterly. "Someone always knows someone who can get them out of trouble. He's going to keep killing." Di'Fier grimaced. "Yeah, I know." "Unless he's stopped." Di'Fier frowned, but nodded. "Yeah." "Arresting him isn't going to stop him. As we've seen. So I suppose that we're just going to have to kill him." [/QUOTE]

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