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Stormrider
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This message was updated on 4/11/2003 11:17:35 AM by Stormrider

Adventures of Lysanna the Nord.
replied on: 4/10/2003 6:44:06 PM

"No...," Lysanna groaned weakly as her Mother's Kiss spell dissipated in a shimmer of useless energy. She sobbed loudly and closed her eyes. The pain slowly subsided as she felt unconsciousness creeping over her. Her wearied mind faintly registered a warm stain in her crotch where she'd wet herself in the battle with the Dremora.
Distantly, she felt her blood running out of her. Her knee was throbbing vaguely, but the pain was unreal. Distant. She felt like nothing was real. The small protion of her mind which was still active registered that this sensation was the same as the feeling she had when she dreamt: she was now her astral body, her real body was far away, millions of miles above her. She felt herself slide ever downward in a descending spiral, into the black.

Suddenly her astral form was violently jerked upward, and the clutches of Death snatched idly in the dark. All the pain returned in its burning hate as a sound brought her back from Death's Door, away from the numbing darkness and back onto the cold stone floor. She was snapped back into her body, her eyes knocked open by the blow. Footsteps! She heard footsteps on the stairs! She tried to call out, but only a wheeze escaped her lips. The footsteps came closer. This time she could manage a whisper.

"Help me..."
Glen froze in his tracks as he heard the hushed whisper. A woman! he thought, and rushed to the source of the sound. His heart quickened. A damsel in distress! What an interesting experience! He darted cautiously down the stairs and drew his dirk in a quick motion, hiding it in his sleeve. His katanas would not be needed, but it was still best to be on the safe side... he had heard stories of so-called Winged Twilights, who posed as a woman in need and then slew their rescuers. "In that case, I have a surprise for you..." Glen whispered, grinning as he neared the end of the stairs.

He slowed and peered round the doorway. There she was, trembling and sobbing, bleeding from more than a few wounds. A black pool had already spread under her. She was more than hurt, she was dying. Glen decided to risk it. He ran over to her. She was looking at him wide-eyedly, tears streaking down her face, her neck straining to turn her head so she could see him. She tried to speak but could only whisper: "Pl- please d-don't hurt me any more..." Fear stuck out sharply on her delicate features. "Don't worry," Glen smiled warmly (he hoped) and spoke quietly, "I wouldn't dream of hurting a pretty lady like you... Who did this to you?" But as he saw the Dremora Lord's dead body, he immediately understood. The girl wheezed again: "I feel so cold...". "Shh... try not to talk any more. The cold is because all the blood's running out of you. I'll help you, don't worry. I won't let you die." He shrugged off his pack and dug in it, producing a small green glass bottle. He lay her head in his lap and placed the rim of the bottle on her lips. "This'll keep you around a little longer. Drink up." He saw the woman's throat strain, trying to swallow.

Lysanna tried to drink down the potion the stranger had offered her, but her throat seemed unwilling. It was as if it were lined with sandpaper. She strained herself and finally she felt her throat open up and accept the drink. The world blurred for a second as she felt the potion do its wondrous magic. The pain dulled momentarily, but gradually came back in harsh pulses. Still, the potion had postponed her death for a few precious moments. The face of the stranger went from blurred back to sharp, although the red haze was still there, at the edge of her vision. Suddenly the drink was forced back upward, the muscles of her abdomen contracting to drive the alien liquid out. She felt the stuff being pushed out of her mouth with a horrible retching sound, and saw it fly into the face of the stranger. Pain lanced out from every corner of her body as she went into a fit of coughing and retching.

The potion flew right back into Glen's face, accompanied by a horrible retching sound from the woman. He jerked his head away and wiped the stuff off him. The woman in his lap convulsed and spasmed, coughing. He tried to hold her still and stroked her bloody platinum-blonde hair. "Don't worry," he told the woman, "I must have made a mistake when I put this stuff together. But don't worry, it did what it had to do." The coughing subsided and the woman went back to trembling and shaking. "I'm going to cast a healing spell on you now. Don't be afraid, this may feel strange." He extended his hands toward her chest. "What's your name, dear?" He asked, to distract her from her injuries. "Ly-... Lysanna" the woman breathed. "Well, Lysanna," Glen replied with an attempt at unflagging confidence, "I'm not letting you die here, so don't you worry, you'll be fine." He smiled down at her, still building up energy for the Heal spell. Her chin was sticky with the potion she had vomited up, and her cheeks were wet with tears. He suddenly smelled an acrid, salty odour and realized she must be wet somewhere else as well. He pushed the thought away, winked at her and discharged the Heal spell.

A force like an orgasm surged through Lysanna. She felt her muscles stiffen up, and her body spasmed with the energy blasting through her. The pain was instantly swept away and she could feel the broken bones realigning themselves back into place. She heard a moan escape her lips. Then blackness swept over her.

Glen stood up from Lysanna's unconscious body, and waited for her to awaken. She would be back within a few minutes. The energy from his spell had caused her body to shut itself down for a few minutes to regain its strength. He looked down at her face and wondered who she was. And smiled thinking about how grateful she would be.

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