Chapter XXII – Elves Don't Have A Sense Of Humour

Elvis recoiled in horror as he saw Grumpy thrust his sock up into the throat of the Minotaur.

‘What a way to die’ he thought to himself in disgust as he finished his song.

Just in front of him Shyne, Llona and Slobba had surrounded the last of the soldiers and it was only a matter of time before they killed him. 

Alyse sent an arrow into the one of the two remaining scarred wizards and an instant later it vanished, leaving only the real one standing in terror as Grumpy hurtled across the room with the Minotaur’s axe gripped in his hands.

The Bard knew that the battle was all but over, but being the team player that he was he decided to launch into one last song to raise his friend’s spirits.  Just as he opened his mouth to sing he felt a tingling sensation over his body and suddenly he couldn’t move.  Elvis strained against whatever invisible force had bound him but to no avail; he was, in essence, totally paralysed where he stood.  Terror gripped him as he imagined whoever, or whatever, had caused this to be stalking towards him with a dagger in its hand.  One casual flick of his wrist and the Bard would have his throat opened from ear to ear.  Mustering all the energy he possessed he attempted to scream but was unable to do so.

He watched in relief as Llona downed the last of the soldiers, before she turned towards him with murder written all over her face.  In the blink of an eye her right hand came up and she launched a short sword straight at the bard.  Elvis shrieked silently as the tumbling blade flew past his ear, lopping off a lock of his hair as it did so.  Behind him he heard a grunt of pain then the sound of a body hitting the floor.

‘She wasn’t trying to kill me, she was trying to save me!’ he thought to himself exultantly as she strode across the room to stand before him, with her remaining short sword leaping from her left to her right hand. 

It was then that he noticed the look of rage on the Elf’s face.

“CRACK WHORE! YOU DARE TO CALL ME A CRACK WHORE!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs as the blade descended towards his right eye.

It was at that point that the Bard was glad that he was paralysed, for if he wasn’t he surely would have shit himself.