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"I love you!"
Lomilyth turned and beheld the speaker. It was a common peasant, complete with overalls, pitchfork, overbite and weird, bulgy eyes.
In his outthrust hands were some wild flowers that he had obviously picked himself. In his watery blue eyes, slightly teary, was sincerity. On his face, severely pockmarked, there was rapture. In summary, his head conveyed the impression of romance, longing, happiness.
It looked out of place on the ground.
On Lomilyth's face was a look of psychotic rage. His beautiful, green eyes were alternately crossing and uncrossing. In his hands he held a double-bitted, double-bladed axe, now bloody. Its massive size and weight seemed out of place in the hands of the beautiful, effeminate elf. The effeminate male elf. As the unfortunate townsperson had just discovered.
"I told you freaks, I'm not a girl!"
Lomilyth was standing over the recently decapitated body, axe gripped in both hands. There was a crowd of stunned onlookers from the small town that the party was visiting. Actually, planned on visiting, but it looked like they were going to have to make a slight detour.
"And you're lucky you died otherwise I would have…have…killed you!"
The crowd of onlookers ceased being stunned and started running in all directions from the postal elf. Soon the only onlookers were Lomilyth's own party.
"Oh dear."
Edwarde, the Evil Lich™ turned adventurer, had a skeletal hand up to where his mouth would be. As it was, it was sort of in front of his jaw bone. The two glowing red points that dwelled deep within his eye sockets took in the situation with alarm.
"Oh well."
Djaro, the halfling thief, actually she is a warrior…no, I think I had it right the first time, she's a thief but on the other hand her combat prowess… Djaro, the Halfling whatever looked at the cooling body with tepid disinterest. She (for Djaro is a she) shrugged and set off towards the town's only tavern.
"Oh wow!"
The deep, grating voice belonged to Rugar, the female half-orc that was fond of trees and small furry animals. The tragic, longing look and clasped hands betrayed her feelings for the murderous Elf as she gazed dreamily at his slender, violent form.
"Oh good!"
The last came from Flayer, the erstwhile leader of the group. Gender really didn't enter into it, since Mind Flayers do not reproduce in the same manner that other, more familiar species do.
While Mind Flayers may not feel the same romantic longings that others have, they are attracted to humanoid races, regardless of gender because of…
"Brains!"
Flayer's tentacles worked diligently to extract its latest meal from the head of the unfortunate human. It was much more convenient for the head to be separate from the body – that allowed Flayer to take it with him/her and nibble on it instead of bolting the whole thing in one huge gulp! With its latest meal casually gripped in one hand, Flayer made to join Djaro.
"Flayer! You can't go walking around with a blood-covered brain in your hands!"
"Sure I can – see?"
"No, I mean, well, people will talk."
"Let them! I'm not afraid!"
That last bit had been uttered by Rugar, who had taken on a defiant, heroic stance. With quiet…defiance she stared at Lomilyth, who was staring at them as if they were insane.
"You guys are nuts…I'm gonna go get a drink."
Oddly enough, his double-bladed, double bitted axe had vanished (where does that thing go when he's not using it?!!). He headed for the tavern.
"We've just been called insane…by Lomilyth."
"There! Is this better?"
Flayer had put the brain in a bucket and was holding the pail up triumphantly.
"Whaaa? Oh whatever, I guess it beats walking around with it gripped in your hand…"
If Flayer had had a mouth (alright, one with lips around it that you would see), it would have smiled. Tucking its tentacles under the collar of its robe, the Illithid followed the other two towards the local bar.
"What's with you?"
The last question was directed at Rugar, who was sighing in a fashion that would have made any Harlequin romance novel writer wistful.
"Hmmm? Oh…nothing."
"You can tell me."
Edwarde tried to grin at the seven foot tall half-orc, but, with a skull for a head, it's hard to do anything else.
"Me…me in love."
"In love?!! Who with?! C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. You can tell me."
Edwarde, who devoured romance novels like nobody's business, lived and breathed this stuff.
"Oh, but it's impossible! It would never work! Booohoooo!"
Rugar started blubbering uncontrollably. Some of the braver townsfolk were glancing out of their windows to see what the ruckus was. Edwarde tried to pat her on the back, but couldn't quite reach.
"What are you saying? Luuuv will always find a way!"
"But he the wrong species!"
"Bah! Humans are able to interbreed with all sorts of species – just look at yourself."
Rugar glared at the Lich, who, after a moment's thought, changed the subject.
"Besides, the physical act of Luuuuuv is not as important as the feelings behind it."
"(sniff) you really think so?"
"Oh I know so! Some of the greatest lovers in history were star crossed. And don't even get me started on the ones who died as a consequence of their Luuuuuv."
At this point Edwarde tripped over the stiffening corpse. The thing's hand still gripped the flowers the man had brought for Lomilyth. The Lich gazed thoughtfully at the body.
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