You run through the tangle of the storm-shaken trees for a long time. Eventually, Tamlyn stops, the patter of rain pooling in puddles of forest mud around her. She is turned away from you - you cannot see her wounded face in the downpour, the squall-cast shadows - as Tamlyn whispers:
-You threw an axe at me.
>>5265693- Why did you miss? (clutching her wounded face) I wish you had hit me, sent me to the King Beneath The Mountain...
>Write in your response. Some options:>Your face will heal, Tamlyn. Grandmother Kospelina will make it better...(Warning: you do not believe in the cursed magic of Unferth's sword, and the jewel bound to its hilt. There may be a consequence to this...)
>Don't say such things! The Mountain listens, he will make it true...>There are no gods in this world, Tamlyn. All the gods died, long ago.>I think your face... has improved. Maybe you should worry less about your appearance and become better at fighting, I almost lost my hands...>Turn Tamlyn around and look at her face... how bad is it...? (Maybe... don't do this)>Just say nothing, continue to trudge towards Old Grandmother Kospelina's dwelling through the rain.>Something else...?