>>5584077>>5584108>>5584217>>5584314>>5584469>>5584474>>5584509>Who even is the “Iron Maiden”? Everyone keeps talking her up. You’re somewhat of an iron maiden yourself, you know.>Try to be honest with Morne for once. Maybe apologize for being strange. Not more weird femcel flirting.“Bah–don’t tell me you’re frightened of this supposed maiden?” You snort, arms crossed. “Who even is she? She can’t be <span class="mu-i">that</span> scary.”
“His Holiness Eli de Villiers, for all his pomp and circumstance, is still human. He employs the service of “Bishops” to oversee the districts of Seins-de-Saint-Anne where he cannot–one for each district for three in toto.” Morne grimaces. “His Holiness’ Bishops are less a cadre of zealots than they are some kind of repulsive harem, though–..monster women, one and all, adherents in spirit and heart. The Iron Maiden is one of them.”
“A harem of monsters? Wow, what a.. terrible thing to aspire to.” You feign shock.
“The Iron Maiden is the monstress in charge of the Quartier de Punition–oversees the execution and torture of heretics here. And Breaking Wheel is a big, fat joke next to her.” He stomps on the chub of the palm as if to prove a point. “She’s a revenant that animates suits of armor to move and fight. And there is no greater a swordswoman in the village–maybe even the country. We cannot hope to defeat her.”
“And how can you be so sure of that?” You raise a brow.
“The Iron Maiden and I are bound by blood.” He pauses before he continues as if to size up your reaction. “We were raised together, have dueled before. Not once in the last century have I ever been able to surmount her–and that was with my eyes. We will end up gibbeted by the necks if we allow ourselves to be served to her on a silver platter like this.”
“Another sister of yours.” You raise a brow. ”You’re family, are you not? Can’t you just–”
“Fleur betrayed us–betrayed me. Pledged loyalty to the men who carved out my eyes. Worked with them to imprison our sister in this hole.” The hound’s voice slips for but a moment, and the cool of his tone turns rabid. “I’d run her through with my sword had I the eyes to see her face as I did.”
You pause. You’re not the best at reading emotions, but even you’re picking up some anger. You may have to tread light here.
>Try switching topics. There’s other bishops, no? What are they like?>Do your best to comfort him. Whatever you can conjure up.>Talk about yourself. You know more about him than he does about you.>Ask the giant to switch hands over to the invalid and hag side. He’s getting frightening.>You know who else he should run through with his sword?>Write-In. 