Intro Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/02(Mon)15:55 No. 1096836 ID: f846b3
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I desire a lick of the salt blocks deep in the Woods of Saltlick. Supplies have been low, and thus the King’s guards patrol shoulder-to-shoulder around the perimeter of the forest.

In ye olde days the town was rich with salt. But during our excavations, we interrupted the sleep of a great salty hag who lived there. After her eviction, she cursed us and now our supply has run nearly dry.

Intro Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/02(Mon)15:56 No. 1096837 ID: f846b3
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Legend has it among the riffraff that there’s the last giant salt block in the midst of the forest. But a heavy fog shields it, and unknown creatures have spawned during the wee hours of the night. Anyone who manages to pass the guards is never seen again.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/02(Mon)15:56 No. 1096838 ID: f846b3
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And thus we roundabout to my quest, young chaps. I desire a lick. I will succeed for my name IS . . .!!!
>Insert Name [_ _ _ _ _ _]
>Do I adorn a crown of antlers or nay?

Boris Bigsly
You have some mighty fine antlers

You are The Potlicker
A low-wage, bland-faced peasant with a disturbing talent at using serrated spatulas to mutilate invading raiders.

Your name is Buckup, and antlers are a social construct.

Johan Deerhart
A modest but striking set of six pointers

Sir Onionbreath. You have a obsession with those smelly yet tasty veggies.

Your name is Briella. You have been crowned with antlers by birth, some might say in spite of your feminine nature.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/03(Tue)17:31 No. 1096882 ID: 95376c
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And thus I go forth as Briella Deerhart despite the crown which I look fabulous wearing; my feminine features make me lithe and lissome.

I am a far wanderer. I can handle myself in a pinch with my trusty bastard sword should the need arise. I have some rope and a hook, as well as berries to feast on.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/03(Tue)17:31 No. 1096883 ID: 95376c
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I’m at the border of the Woods of Saltlick where the king’s sentries patrol night and day, seemingly unending. I wait inside a shrubbery for an opportunity. After some reconnaissance I conclude that they watch in pairs, and a distance of forty hooves between each pairing all along the border. But this particular duo has one exiting at the end of their shift; the other is now alone. I have little time to act now before their replacement arrives.

>How should I proceedeth?

Brandish your bastard sword. Try to reflect the sunlight off of it's polished metal into the guard's eyes. This should cause them to freeze long enough for you to prance by

Chuck one of the berries in a far bush, then while they are distracted swing past on your trusty grappling hook!

Fashion a grappling hook out of the hook and rope, then hook the guard's antlers and bring him in for a thrashing.

There is only one choice.

We must venture forth into the salty wastes far yonder where the salty hag was exiled and convince her to end the salty curse.

For this, we must bring the ultimate offering.
Sugary candy and a glass of water. Being salty all the time gets to ya, man.

Pretend you are the replacement. They will never suspect until it is too late!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/04(Wed)17:09 No. 1096967 ID: b56153
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Ah, ingenious! I can angle my bastard sword to reflect the sunlight into that guard’s eyes. He’ll freeze up, as we tend to do, and I can prance by while he’s stunned! Brilliant idea, me.

I rustle the shrubs within my immediate vicinity to draw the sentry’s attention. And with a snicker-snack I flash my sword and blind him. His face distorts in confusion and terror. During his intermission I prance past him without obstacle.

Huddled in the shade, I look back. The sentry shakes his head and regains his composure. There’s no alarm as he shrugs off the confusion and resumes his position. His new partner joins him.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/04(Wed)17:10 No. 1096968 ID: b56153
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I almost cannot believe it; I’m within the boundaries of the wood! Birch and syrupy maple trees stretch extraordinarily tall and shade all verdant foliage below with their beautiful canopies. I’m almost compelled to frolic and enjoy this forest to myself with an endless platter of savory yellow birch leaves. But nay, there’s some salt to lick.

I galumph ahead for minutes soaking in the splendor of the forest. It’s merely a matter of walking straight ahead will I eventually find the last salt block in the kingdom.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/04(Wed)17:10 No. 1096969 ID: b56153
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Hark! Hold on a second. I spy strange structures within the tree tops! They look unlike old archery posts when the mines were still open. Instead of a crossbow guard I spot mysterious cloaked figures; their eyes glow from the shadows that hide their faces. Their costumes blend them as if they were one with the trees! I stepped upon a fragile twig with a light snap, and immediately an arrow is shot dangerously close to my hoof.

They all look in my direction, waiting for something. But they shrug off their cloaks and wear a most unnatural color! I can barely see the outlines of their bodies!

>What do I do?

curse it. looks we've been outnumbered, outarmed, and outmaneuvered by our mysterious and already hostile folk. best we not do anything funny lest we become a dish of skewered venison.

lay down your sword and hook, calmly state your intentions, and pray to whoever you worship for the best...

Targeting sounds, eh? Toss a few rocks to sow confusion and perhaps deplete their quivers.

stand still for a moment and see if they're still aware of you. perhaps they hunt by movement?

"SALT AND SLAYING!!!
Roll for intimidation.

Tell the Jawas these are not the droids they're looking for.

I think we need more info about the situation. Laying down your weapons seems a bit extreme for a conversation starter. A simple “Who goes there?” will suffice just fine. No sudden movements, but I’d suggest having a hand on the hilt of your bastard sword, just in case.

If they are within throwing distance, throw rocks at them to make a sound at their location and see if they might friendly fire

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/07(Sat)20:53 No. 1097148 ID: 44b0f7
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>Targeting sounds, eh? Toss a few rocks to sow confusion and perhaps deplete their quivers.
I freeze up and make no noise. They stare in my direction, but make no more attempts to attack. I wave my arms and still no response. I toss a pebble at the nearest tree, and as soon as it hits, an arrow wedges into thick bark! Aha! They rely on sound to find their prey! A deft adventurer would be able to dodge these arrows, or use cat-like feet to trek across without making a noise, or even attack these strange hunters with extreme precision high in the trees.

But I have a simpler solution!

I retreat only briefly, for I collect as many rocks as I can carry. Returning to the obstacle I throw these pebbles in random directions. The hunters fire upon where there is noise and with enough time and patience they will run out of arrows!

The last arrow lodges into a stump, and I gloatingly strut through the aisle of trees. The hunters grumble to themselves up above.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/07(Sat)20:54 No. 1097149 ID: 44b0f7
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My congratulatory stride would be cut short, as I should’ve expected my next obstacle: a thick mist that forever plagues the inner dwellings of the forest. I can hardly see five hooves ahead.

But lo! Is that a cackling my ears detect? Within the thick and soupy fog are the contours of a strange being. No threat was declared upon my presence.

I demand whose presence stands before me with a hand upon my bastard hilt.

“Becomest proficient!” she crows.

There’s only one voice who speaks so salty. It must be that hag! But what is the meaning of her heckling?

>This be an omen or a warning? How must I react?

Briella has many proficiencies, be more specific hag.

I think she just told us to "get good". Clearly she believes were are suffering from a skill issue. Verily, we must show her we lack in no skills and should show off some fancy sword play

No! Don’t fall into her trap! If we attempt to show any level of skill, she will say it is not good enough! Any feat we perform will be “rookie numbers” to her. We must boldly inform this hag that we have nothing to prove to her!

She heckles at your skills in an attempt for you to show off. Guard dropped, she gets ya with her magic. Maybe even steal your powers.

She's after your high score!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/12(Thu)17:31 No. 1097328 ID: 28fa8e
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> She heckles at your skills in an attempt for you to show off
>If we attempt to show any level of skill, she will say it is not good enough!
I was this close to unsheathing my bastard. But thine words spark true. I’d only look like a fopdoodle on All-Fools-Day if I did all I can to impress this unimpressionable hag. This be a game of magic and swords no more! Now it’s a game of hecklings.

I say into the mist, “Nay! Thou!”

She cackles and murmurs at my riposte.

“I had a previous congress with your bedswerving maiden!”

I retort: Thine ought to retire from thoust mortal coil, foul curmudgeon! A cur is you!

“I woot ye be, yet what have ye sayeth about mine-self?”

I bleat: Such behavior of a wretch will answer to mine patriarch of the House of Deerhart, for he is subordinate to the King and will thusly shun and have thou scorned.

She cracks a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Thine challenge has surpassed its end. A jolly joust, knave.”

She’s not going to admit defeat. The salty hag guffaws some more and disappears in the thick of fog. I’m compelled to give chase!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/12(Thu)17:32 No. 1097329 ID: 28fa8e
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I pursue her cackling; it echoes in the mist. I would call myself a fool for running in blind--but there would be no other option to move forward with my quest. Her laughter reels farther away, and then silence.

I mosey and meander without a reference point; it feels like minutes have gone by before I give pause. Not one noise is uttered. No birds. No wind. Stillness hangs in the air.

For it was then that I spy the silhouette of a deer! It’s just standing there. Menacingly! Maybe it’s the hag! She does not face me. This is my chance to capture her and demand the curse be broken! I carefully unsheathe my sword this round and shall strike before she utters an incantation.

So I stride, and before I swing my blade down I realize it’s not my intended target. It’s a lost damsel! Such pretty fur that gloss in the light. The fairest flower in a field of poppies. I tip my hat and bow to the gentle creature, and ask if she is lost or knows the way through--but I receive no answer and a blank stare. There seems to be a scar around her neck and ears. Her eyes! Vantablack like the void between stars! She is motionless, and the look upon her face is uncanny.

I realize this fair damsel has been petrified! As the fog clears in my vicinity I see more unlucky brethren frozen in time! What madness is this? Some of them have been punctured by arrows, but they don’t bleed!

>What trickery of the salty hag is this? How do I escape from here before a similar fate is bestowed upon me?

If the curse stops you from moving, then clearly the only solution is to keep moving. Prance and pronk whiles till looking for the hag to undo this curse on these poor people.

Time mage!
You need to leave. Excessive force should break the stasis spells - and explode the victims within. You need an archmage to unravel this mass...ive effect.

A trick! The hag seeks to fool you with this simulacrum, but see how she hath failed to hide the seams. Rebuke this assail on thine tender heart by rending this false doxy to kindling.

Are you sure she's just not interested and giving you the silent treatment?

I'm going to second the petrification pronking protection.

If some are punctured by arrows, be careful. Those archers may be lurking around yet.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/14(Sat)21:54 No. 1097420 ID: 3904e0
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>I'm going to second the petrification pronking protection.
>If the curse stops you from moving, then clearly the only solution is to keep moving.
I prance and prong out of fear that staying in one place for too long will petrify me. You will not striketh me, o’ salty hag!

(I’ll come back for you, my beloved. Just after the sweet licks of salt on my buds)

I hop and skip for minutes and my legs feel all the more weary. Her cackling is still distant; I wonder if she even knows I’m here. No matter, I head in a direction with my best gut. If I see enemies or more unlucky petrified sods, then I must be going the right way!

And indeed I was! For I come upon a sight even stranger than the last! At first, an ordinary river. But at second glance, it’s also under the effects of petrification! It curves motionless into the fog. I don’t recall any crick or river through the woods as a wee lad, but it could be a moat around the mines! I search for a raft or vehicle to safely cross this accursed river—but no dice.

>How ever does one traverse this strange phenomenon?

If it's petrified as well, then it should be solid enough to cross on, right? Still, be cautious and put not but a single hoof on this river

Wait a few minutes. Beware of sudden onrushing lights. If you see even the merest pair of them coming immediately move at full speed towards whichever bank is closest. Do not delay. Fae vessels ply these petrified rivers at incredible speed and in this mist will plough through you like a tumbling boulder.

Give it a dainty stamp to test its surface

Is there anything *not* under the effects of petrification? Maybe it's you who are under the effects of... everythingelse... petrification...itis.

With a moat and perchance even a river, a bridge should be a sight at some local. If you were to go what is to be believed upstream, there might be a chance for a crossing. And, dreadful it may be, with no structure other than air for support, you may need to leap across this accursed river at the narrowest point you find.

>>1097420
Dip within its flow the merest tips of thine prodigiously proportioned rack.
Should this watery mystery be the source of the petrification, only the tips will be affected and mayhap hardened.
Should it begin to spread your ever sharp blade shall divest you of this peril in but a single slice.

Perhaps you could throw a pebble on to the petrified river to see if it reacts in any way.

What if the river is made of salt? After some testing, perhaps a lick?

Throw a rock onto the river to see if it is truley frozen in time. Throw a big enough rock and you'll even be sure it will hold your own weight!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/22(Sun)20:02 No. 1097680 ID: b9c2b6
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>Perhaps you could throw a pebble on to the petrified river to see if it reacts in any way.
>Throw a rock onto the river to see if it is truley frozen in time. Throw a big enough rock and you'll even be sure it will hold your own weight!
An ingenious idear! I grab the nearest pebble and toss it in the river; it rebounds without a ripple! I find an even larger stone and toss that as well! The rock shatters without making a dent! How queer!

I stand by its edge with intent to dip one single clove to see if there are any long-term effects on the living. My bastard sword is at the ready to chop my leg off before it spreads because it’s good to think ahead. As if expecting a chilly dip I gradually lower my hoof and tap the surface of the water. It... it doesn’t affect me! I give it a dainty stamp and still no trap has sprung. I trot a few hooves into the river; it isn’t even cold!

>Perhaps a lick?
Yuck. If only it were salt.

The other side doesn’t seem far to reach. I could simply gallop across. From there, the salt lick would be within my grasp.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/22(Sun)20:02 No. 1097681 ID: b9c2b6
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During my powerwalk, I hear another set of hooves by the time I step on the river’s midpoint. I scan my immediate vicinity to find no one following, not even the hag; although her cackling would precede her presence. It seems the hooves echo louder and louder. They must be downstream!

>Beware of sudden onrushing lights. If you see even the merest pair of them coming immediately move at full speed towards whichever bank is closest
Ah yes. I’ve heard of dancing wisps that come out at night. I’m sure it’s only midafternoon, yet the fog dampens daylight enough to fool even the most crepuscular critters.

And suddenly two beams of moonlight shine through the mist like the arrival of holy angels! The galloping hooves grow heavier and louder. So why... WHY haven’t I leapt aside to huddle behind a bush?

The aura emitting from those wispy lights has me stunned! I... I couldn’t move even if I wanted to! Thankfully I don’t feel my body turning to stone. What magic is this? Oh wait… it’s like what I did to that sentry guarding the forest perimeter. Nevermind. Curse you, instinct! It blinds me, for I cannot identify the creature charging! Mayhaps I can jump at the last moment, cause the fiend to run past, and I may sprint out of this river with a head start!

But neigh. I wasn’t fast enough. A Norwegian fjord bronco surrounded by such ghastly wisps picks me up and plants me on its back. I hold on to dear life! I demand the stallion: Where does he take me?! But with a sinister nicker he responds:

“Thou shalt goeth to Cabelas!”

NOOOO!

>This psychopomp expects to drag me to the dark pits of the underworld! I must get off this wild ride!

>>1097681
Mayhaps due to this beast's ancestral blood, a simple utterance of "oh I cannot wait to go to Sweden's best resting place"
And while the quadruped is hit by this calculated mistake, your antlers shall do the trick of the physical malady.

Did he mistake you for a damsel? He might be hunting for female sex slaves.
Ask what a Cabella's is.

Use your grace to prance upon his back. When the time is right leap away.

Use bastard sword on horse. Send him to the glue factory!!!

>>1097681
Horses are accursed beings, neither deer nor beast but some godforsaken horror that lurks somewhere between.
Gird thy loins and show no quarter.
But beforebvanquishing, take a moment to lick the vile mockery of cervidkind.
Should it be sweating their is a small chance of salt within its devilish excretions.
And it might distract it from its nefarious intent.

Not Cabela’s! Something must be done! How to bring this horse to a halt safely though… perhaps you could bargain with it? Any carrot/apple based rations on your person?

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/28(Sat)22:31 No. 1097986 ID: f0d12a
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Horses sure are accursed beings; a pox on them all! I shall treat the bastards with my own. I unsheathe my sword! And make a swift cut against its nape!

Nay, I say! Thou shalt goeth to the glue factory!

“Neigh?--GAAHGLGhhLBGLghh!”

Like cutting a knife with hot butter! His head rolls aside and tumbles onto the stone river beneath his clog-clopping hooves. But the impossible happens before mine eyes. He does not drop! His burgling bloody stump gurgles a wicked... churtle. This headless horse still animates!

While it’s in a dazed state after divorcing its head from thine shoulders, I taketh the opportunity to prance off its back to the other side of the bank! Hiding in a herd of bushes, I wait for that abomination to disappear further down the stream. Whinnying a chilling laugh.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/28(Sat)22:31 No. 1097987 ID: f0d12a
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My journey continues in the forest. I could not help but notice the salty fragrance of a salt block in the air. I follow my snout and hone in on the wonderful scent. At last there is hope at the end of my quest, for I have reached the eye of this hazy storm. And wouldn’t you know--the last remaining saltblock upon a mossy pedestal. God rays shine down on its magnificence. It glitters white gold.

But what’s this? A cry for help? I see a damsel stuck within an alcove. A row of salty bars imprison her. Our gazes lock, and she has the most beautiful doe eyes I have ever seen. Most fairer than the maiden before~ She begs:

“You sir! Here ye, you knav—kn-nn—uhm-knight! Oh please be not an illusion! I am in need of a rescuing, for I was foolish to pursue the last lick of salt rumored to be in this very forest! I have lacked the proficiency to reach my target.

“Oh handsome traveler. Could you assist in licking these salty bars to help me free? Here! Lick this one I’ve been working on! We can file it thinner with our tongues and hot, huffy breaths and meet in the middle!”

>Take the saltblock for thineself
>Free the damsel and work together out of this forest

"Thou be'est not a witch, forsooth? Thou must so say if thou art!"

Punch a salt bar off with your bare hooves and shove it up this spy.

Test for witches with a sly pratfall, the cackling will give her away.

>>1097987
A maiden!
Salt!
Agh!
Chivalry or salty goodness, which to choose...

But, hold!
Are these bars made entirely of salt?
Pray tell, why is this so?
Are these bars a debive created to contain or repel? To keep out or keep in?

...but despite your trepidation, you are honourable and thus can only offer aid.
Should they be deceptive in their cries, then you shall seek redress later, with fury and righteous wrath.
But you shall not tarnish your honour as a cervid.

Give her the most smug look as you can muster while you lick the salt block and there's nothing she can do to stop you.

The salt cube is right there before us! We may not get a chance like this again! We should at least give the salt block ONE lick before we engage with this potential trap. We should definitely engage with the potential trap though. T’is only chivalrous.

>>1097988
Do say this tho. I like this

Put the tip of your sword through the bars and demand she touch it. Witches and the fae cannot touch iron for it burns them, everyone knows this. If she can stand to touch the cold steel she is to be trusted, if not its a trick.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/03(Thu)19:51 No. 1098206 ID: 435cbc
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Before I give in to temptation of licking the cube, I believe I am being tested by the salty hag. “Thou be’est not a witch forsooth? Thou must say if thou art!”

“Ugh, you’re one of those coxcombed deer, aren’t you? Of course I’m not some... fairy tale creature! Do I look like I carry warts?”

I unsheathe my sword and slowly poke through the salty bars that trap her so. “Then you would be unaffected when touching the very iron of this blade, now would you?”

She reels back. “Watch where you’re pointing that! One should never present their sword to a damsel unprotected! Cover your shame! You country deer have no chivalry! At least use it to break my bonds instead of chattering your teeth.”

My final test is a show of complete boobery. “Well I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy a single lick of salt before I make my decision whether to trust you.” I turn and slip on some dewy rocks, stumbling and staging my pratfall like a saddle goose.

"Ehh-heheyahyah-honhon"

The maiden cackles and ripsnorts followed by an immediate cover-up with blushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. I have the worst laugh out of my twelve fair sisters. I try to remain stoic so I may never be reminded of my greatest fault.”

>She’s a hag
>She’s not a hag

She's totally the hag. But which is the trap? Freeing her, or taking the salt lick?

>>1098206
>"Ehh-heheyahyah-honhon"
>honhon

At worst she is french. And I believe that thou may have a way to free both fair maiden and salt lick at the same time. Tie a rope around the bars of the maiden's prison, and the other around the salt lick.
Grab up the salt lick after it is snug and run, breaking both maiden and lick away from their bonds (gracefully).
With the salt lick's boost of vitality you shall be stronger than elk! So it should be a grand display, both ingenuity and strength.
...
If the rope doesn't break.
...
If you have a rope.

Hmm… If she is a hag, she is insanely clever. I am tempted to buy into this ruse. She did almost call us a knave before, so definitely remain wary. However, perhaps begin saving her, but frustratingly slowly. If she is truly a hag, she will surely loose her temper and reveal herself in her outrage.

>>1098206
Ask the names of her 12 sisters, mayhap you have heard of them.

Lick the salt while you listen and think.

Mayhap she is a hag, but what value in victory if it is not shared?
There is enough bounty for two in the treasured cube.

She seems like to be the hag, yet with such comely countenance is it of much import? Perhaps ye might pledge thou sword to her, and reap rewards both salty and sweet.

>>1098218
Seconding, ask for the names of all her sisters.

>>1098218
I like this too. “Truly? Thou doth haveth a full dozen of sisters? Wouldst thou giveth their names, and of course thine own?” (That last part is a reverse fey trick, in case she’s a hag. Names having power, etc etc.)

Spies gonna die

Licking all that salt must have her very parched. Perhaps you could offer her some WATER!!!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/09(Wed)18:54 No. 1098414 ID: bc5ac3
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This dame is sending mixed signals, but I find it chivalrous to help release her! As I try to break the salty irons with my sword, I chat her up and inquire the names of her dozen sisters.

“Karen. Sharon. Barron. Ro Laren. Erin. Aaron. Charon. Herron. Marron. Subsaharan. Derron. And Amandaron.”

By the time she finishes namedropping her sisters, I pry enough salty bars to free her.

And what of your name? Hmm?

“eeehehehehe I’m Alyre.”

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/09(Wed)18:55 No. 1098415 ID: bc5ac3
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Suddenly the damsel shrivels like a prune, cured as if she bathed in salt. It was indeed the hag all along!! I raise my bastard sword. She cackles.

“The act was just a jolly ruse, foolish brethren! But thy have proven thyself to be worthy of the salt block. For every knave before you was of greed, surrendering to temptation and gluttony--just like the King who evicted me to mine the forests of its salt. If thou haveth licked the cursed block, thou wouldeth transmogrified into a pillar of salt thyself--

“It is a pity to unveil that there is no saltblock at the end. I had spread these rumors to attract stuck-up adventurers far and wide in search of one who can resist its temptation. For choosing me over the salt, I feel it’s time I can leave this forest and with it remove the mist that plagues it so.”

>”HEY! What about my prize? I won’t leave without a prize!!”
>”Oh. That’s cool. I guess. It’s the journey that… whatever.”
>[Lick the block] “I’m sorry you were saying something?”
>”Change back. Now.”
> Alt+F4

You Fool
STAB HER "FOR SALT AND SANCTUARY!"
And mist adds biodiversity to the nature preserve so you should prevent her from removing it.

>>1098415
>”Change back. Now.”

So she can look pretty when she wants too, eh? If you seduce the hag you could get all the salt you can lick.

>>1098415
Change back!
A great wrong has been done unto her and a true knight of honour would crave not selfish reward but instead share the taste of JUSTICE'S salty leavings!

Would any knight truly worth their salt do anything other?
Nay!
That means in the vulgar, bestial tongue of the horse, no!

Asking her to change back assumes she would be interested in us romantically. Chances of this are low given our interactions of her. However! She needs to remove more than the mist!

>>1097329 >I realize this fair damsel has been petrified! As the fog clears in my vicinity I see more unlucky brethren frozen in time!

We need her to free our stone brethren! Plus imagine how grateful the real damsel will be to know you have saved her from eternal stasis!

> I’ll come back for you, my beloved. Just after the sweet licks of salt on my buds (>>1097420)

You would betray thine word and not return for the maiden???

>>1098560
...should probably ask the hag about the maiden.

lick it

Nuts to the block, theres perfectly good noncursed pillars of salt to lick.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/22(Tue)19:30 No. 1098891 ID: 92a30c
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I’m caught between two damsels, for I have given my oath to come back for the petrified lass from across the river. Despite the hag’s true and crude visage, if she could change her appearance on a whim to a more appealing presentation, then I could woo her and win all the salt I crave for. But first, I must ask of the petrified maiden over yonder.

“Oh that? That was merely a simulacrum. A fake. Another jest to scare away adventurers. I take pride in my life-like sculptures. She isn’t even made of salt.”

Then I have no other choice but to rescue you!

“Me? Lil’ old me? Why, I don’t know what to say about that. Why the sudden change in interest, deerest knave?”

A great wrong has been done unto you and a true knight of honour would crave not selfish reward but instead share the taste of JUSTICE'S salty leavings! Would any knight truly worth their salt do anything other?

“Why I’m so flattered, I never considered settling down with a young knave as you. If it’s your wish, then our beauty shall match together and we may share our lives with plentiful salts. I offer my hoof for yours to take. And let us leave this forest to find new beginnings in one much richer than here.”

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/22(Tue)19:31 No. 1098892 ID: 92a30c
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Without hesitation I take thine hag’s hoof and there is a flash of dazzling light. The mist disappears and sunlight shines through. Birds chirp and the trees subtly shake in the breeze. It feels like many winters pass by as she devotes herself to me.

Next thing I know I’m in a cottage with my newest beloved, one with a small farm atop a hillock. I hear her knitting in the other room, and I’m in tattered civilian attire. Not quite peasantry but dignified enough. She hums a tune with a few cackles. I enter her room as she swivels in a rocking chair.

But she looks the same as she always has. What of her beauty matching mine? As I walk to the trough to wash my face, I see in the reflection a most haggled curmudgeon staring back at me!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/22(Tue)19:31 No. 1098893 ID: 92a30c
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No. NO! My beautiful face! I’m no longer lithe and lissome--my feminine qualities have vanished. No golden-haired maiden would want to couple with me now!

Damn that hag for twisting her words. I must find a way to--

Oh hey look. A fine assortment of salt bars.

Lick lick.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/10/22(Tue)19:32 No. 1098894 ID: 92a30c
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And thus concludes the tale of Briella Deerhart. THE END.

A tale written and illustrated by Buckwheaticus and Sir Copholla Kuda.

Ah, the At-Least-You-Have-Salt end. GG; thanks for the quest

Beauty fades, but salt lasts. A worthy end.

>>1098899
A most wondrous fable with an equally valuable moral. A heart-warming thank you to the scholar and knight responsible.

>>1098894
A beautifully told tale and a satisfying end.
Thankyou!

In the end it was revealed that the wrinkled old hag wasn't old at all, and just wrinkled up from licking too much salt.

>>1098893
Wife? Check
Salt? Check
Fission mailed boys!