In the hubhub and busy atmosphere of the tavern it'd be easy to overlook the cloaked man sitting these slumped over his table. A piece of the background, not participating with anything or anyone. Even as Dawn approached him he preferred to ignore her until she made it clear she was there for him.<br/><br/>Johnson forced himself to sit a little straighter, allowing Dawn to get a look at the man under the heavy coat. He must've been quite handsome ten years back but life had dealt him a harsh hand that was visible on his face even before Dawn spied his injuries. Black, rough hair stuck together in clumps and framed a face hardened by the elements. A completely unkempt beard obscured his lower face, the sort that you grew when you couldn't be bothered to shave. His blue eyes were tired, so very tired as he sought out Dawn's face as he processed her words. His body was broken, his right arm missing. The wound obviously still fairly new if the dark spots on his linen tunic were any clue. A crutch under his left arm told Dawn that his left leg too was injured.<br/><br/>"Fuck...." The single expletive fell from the man's lips after he heard out Dawn.<br/><br/>"Urgh, fuck you, Gort...." Johnson groaned, rubbing his one hand into his eyes. "...You want to know about the demon bitch..." He finally addressed Dawn, meeting her gaze. "You better bloody buy me a beer if you're gonna make me talk about this shit." The crippled man took a deep breath and finished his mug in one long sip. Sitting back, he cast another harsh look in Dawn's direction. Smacking his lips, he finally started to talk about Muse. "People around here know that bitch as the 'first elf', practically worship her. Phah, I tell you, she stopped being an elf long ago if she ever was one. Now here's the thing, every so often she apparently comes around these parts and the forest reacts. The fog gets worse and impossibly thick. It's magic, don't ask me how it works. Her most recent visit was a few weeks back, her last one was what.... twelve... fifteen years ago? She dropped off the rat there in town." Johnson pointed out the be-tailed young girl struggling with the broom.<br/><br/>"They claim the rat's is the bitch's daughter too. Cursed more like though. Grows too slow and has that tail and more. Now, folks around here don't know since they never leave but an elf, no matter how queer they made themselves look..., an elf always give birth to an elf who's normal. If the rat's really the bitch's daughter then the bitch is warped even to her womb." The crippled man arrested Dawn with his gaze, licking his lips to wet them. "Y'see what I'm trying to tell you? We're not talking about the 'first elf' here, we're talking here about a monster." A far-off look clouds Johnson's eyes as he pensively rubs his beard. "Didn't even think her real until I saw her. I was off in the deeper wood checking my pixie traps. Their dust sells great and I can usually catch a bit of game on the way back to town. The fog was getting thick but I just had to follow the river and then the lights to get back to town so I wasn't worried... guess I should've been."<br/><br/>Johnson sighed like he was carrying the whole world's misery. "I saw the pixies crowding around her before I saw her... I was already getting my net ready when this shadow I thought to be a tree walked into the clearing. For a second I even believed the first elf myths, hah, it's true. The pixai nested and darted around her horns like they were stars. She wasn't wearing a thing but a whole load of jewelry. She just stood there while I was gawking at her completely stunned. Which I tell you is unusual since I don't swing that way. T'was just... t'was like she was bigger than she was, not quite real..." The crippled man takes a deep breath, growing more animated as he tells his story. "We stood there for a while but then she saw the pixie trap in my hands and...." Johnson swallows, his eyes darting left and right as he recalls that day's events. "I didn't even see her move. One moment she stood there and in the other she tore my arm off like it was a twig. Fuck, she could've killed me easily but instead she... toyed with me... like a cat torturing it's prey... I tried to crawl away, towards the river and she just... cut me with her claws or lashed out with her tail each time I got a little on my feet."<br/><br/>The trauma and pain's fresh and plainly visible as Johnson takes a few moments to try and compose himself, his voice cracked and dry. "I don't even know how I got away... I just... managed one burst of speed and fell into the river... but even as the river swept me away those burning eyes kept following me, even into my nightmares to this day... Mermaids nearly ate my leg but I didn't care I just got away...." The crippled man covers his eyes, his breath erratic as his body shakes with silent sobs he's unwilling to let grow into tears. "...now every day the fog is a little thicker I'm terrified the bitch is coming to finish the job...."<br/><br/>Johnson looks to Dawn with reddened eyes for...something. Compassion, pity, absolution? It doesn't look like the man himself knows what he's looking for in this stranger asking about his tormentor.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>