These calloused hands only know how to draw blood. | Do you think that would stop me from loving you?

It’s wedding dancin’, waltz’s and such.

Rage won't save me but it will make me the only thing left.

Whispers in the air tell the tale of a life long gone.

I can’t stop that dragon from killing you or you getting yourself killed.

What the fuck has this world ever done for me?

Yer gonna get yourself eaten by a dragon.

And how the fuck are any of us supposed to stop it? Let the Gods worry about it.

Perhaps you stop pissin’ the thing off and keep yer heads down. Hopefully, it picks someplace where we aren’t to destroy.

They always are.

He glances around before raising a hand, the divine magic shaky, unpracticed and unsteady. “Stand still.”

“You askin’ for one, or are you offering yer services as one?”

//: healer i hardly know her

Danced at some weddings.

I can dance. I’m just refusing to do that kind of dancin’.

No, what you’re havin’ is a seizure, if those dance moves are all I have to form my guess.

Mind yer business.

My culture is not your costume.

I crawled out of hell. Do you think you can stop me?

Did you heal or did you simply refuse to stop moving?

I have never wanted to follow someone less.

This is like watching two donkey’s fight: It doesn’t matter who wins, they’ll both still be asses.

Was this stranger mad or was this true? Brash kept a decent distance between them, arms crossed. “Happy for ya, I guess.”

“I know the feelin’ and I don’t talk like that.”

“…who the fuck starts a conversation like that?”

He’s… he’s pretending he didn’t see the other goblin. Disgusting, crude creatures. Markus knew that. Always had. Brash… didn’t disagree. How could he? That was exactly what he was.

… what the fuck is that?

Why did that kid have a bucket on hand?

In every moment I think of you.

“……what the fuck.”

You're my home.

Why did you turn into everything you promised you'd never become?

When you see me coming, it'll be too late for goodbyes.

He’s napping under a tree.

He grinned, stowing his knives and hopping on the window sill again. “See you soon, /boss/.”

I never wanted to leave you behind.

“Six hundred works. Anything else you need? I ain’t afraid of some corpses.”

He chuckled darkly, hopping down from the ledge. “Weirdest client I’ve ever met. How much is it worth to you?”

Well, if the guy was set, there was an opportunity. “I’d be willing to help you for a price. I’m sure there’s shite you need that you’d rather not get your hands dirty taking care of.”

He was looking for them but he hesitated. “If you go down that path, it’ll take everything you are and spit out something else. I’ve heard the stories. You willing to live with that?”

He waited for more of an explanation. When none came, he cleared his throat and asked impatiently, “And why are you trying to cage your soul? Trying to be a lich or something?”

“And what’s the project?” Why the fuck would anyone want to use a metal that makes you sick?

“Heard of it. Makes you sick, from the stories. Never seen it.” He had his blades ready if the man tried anything, eyes narrowed to glowing slits.

This seemed like a trap but he could take a wizard, which this guy seemed to be based on his build. He did as asked. “Brash. What did you want to talk about?” Don’t try anything, buddy…

“Got something on yer mind or just distractible?”

Gods, is it morning already?

Takes one to know one.

Sounds like someone that never gets any.