Damocles was still much taller than Irelia, and he remained unimpressed as she spoke. Goddesses were pure and kind and lovely, not foul-mouthed and haughty. He saw no difference between this woman and all the despots and bandits he had encountered over the years. They thought that their power was all that mattered.<br/><br/>Damocles intended to teach Irelia the same lesson that so many proud and noble women had already learned. She was to be humbled by his cock, purified by his lust, and come out the other side a better woman. One who knew her place.<br/><br/>As the bolt shot through the air, incinerating part of his armour, Damocles felt no fear. He was possessed of more zealousness and strength than good sense, and he marched forwards towards Irelia.<br/><br/>"I serve Lady<em>Fyla</em>," he announced, reaching out to grab a fistful of Irelia's hair. "And<em>you</em>need to be taught your place. Such behavior is unfit for a goddess."<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Damocles initiates a non-consensual encounter.<br/>Die Roll of 6 (Oof.)<br/></div></div>