A3Writer: F3 Dealing with Damsels
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Friday, April 8, 2011

F3 Dealing with Damsels

     "Oh, cripes. You're a D.I.D."
     "A what?"
     "Damsel in Distress. You need rescuing or something, don't you?"
     "A wicked troll captured me. I fled from the forest, and came here. Please help me."
     Yep. Definitely a D.I.D. Unfortunately, that meant a troll would be coming this way right quick. I wasn't equipped to fight
a troll.
     "Okay, sister, I'll help you out."
     "Oh, thank you, my lord."
     "I'm not a lord."
     "It's most kind of you to render aid unto me. I would be lost without—"
     "Yeah. I got it. Listen, where did you come from? Do you live in the woods or something? Animals come when you call to help out?"
     "No. I am the miller's daughter. I don't live in the forest."
     "Great. Okay, here's the deal. I need you to go down stairs into my basement."
     "To where?"
     "The cellar." After two years here you'd think I'd get the language quirks down. "Go into the cellar, and use the broom down there to kind of tidy up. I'll stay up here and take care of the troll."
     "Oh, you're so brave to fight him on your own. Truly, my lord, you are a great—mmph!" I put a hand over her mouth. If she had finished that sentence, I'd have a real fight on my hands.
     "Thank you. Just, please, go into the cellar. I don't want you to have to watch what I do to the troll." Every word, true.
     She nodded, and I showed her to the cellar, closing the door behind her.
     I went outside, sat down on my chair on the porch, and rolled up a cigarette. I was lucky that some dwarves way out in Dwarven Mountain smoked pipes. I had been able to get my own tobacco plant.
     I still hadn't found any coffee.
     From the cellar I heard the muted sounds of an angelic voice in song.
     The big troll lumbered out of the woods, sharp tusks staring out of a fully deformed face that not even a mother could love. He went straight for me.
     "I come for girl!" he bellowed, and a disgusting amount of spittle sailed out of his mouth.
     "Sure you do. See, the thing is, she's my prisoner."
     "No! You are hero; you protect her. We must do battle!"
     "Sorry, buddy. Listen, that's her singing in my dungeon. You know how these maidens are. They're always singing."
     The troll paused, but if his expression changed, I couldn't detect it in the thick grey skin.
     "That's her!"
     "Right. That's her. In my dungeon. She's my prisoner now, so you can't eat her. I'm going to use her in my own wicked scheme, so off with you."
     "That's not fair!"
     "Hey, you lost her. But, I'll tell you what, let me know where I can get a hold of you, and I might use you in one of my evil plots. All right?"
     "Okay," the troll had become sullen, which was more pathetic than it sounded.
     He gave me his name, then lumbered away to the woods, kicking at the ground and cursing, as much as anyone could curse in this world.

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