Interlude
The wounded man staggered through the forest, losing blood and strength with each step. He finally collapsed and lay there wating for death to claim him.
Suddenly, he heard a cold, harsh voice.
"Would you live?"
"What?" asked the man.
"Would you live, I asked?"
The man looked up. Before him he saw an Elven woman. Her figure was made of mist and insubstantial but her presence was overwhelming.
"Yes, of course," he stammered.
"Then I will heal you, if you accept My pact."
"What pact?" He asked.
"You will serve Me, by My hands in this world. Whatever I say, you will do."
"Anything, please hurry."
"Very well, but know this, I have a mission for you." with that the figure touched a finger to the man's wounds, first his belly, then his shoulder. She raised that finger to her lips, tongue protuding slightly, and tasted his blood.
"The pact is sealed," she said.
The man's wounds began to twist. He screamed. His belly seemed on fire. A thousand scorpions rushed through his body. His shoulder was ice. Snakes lived there.
"I didn't say it wouldn't hurt," the figure laughed. She seemed to enjoy his torment.
He screamed until he was hoarse, then continued to scream with no sound. He squired across the ground until, finally, the pain ended.
He lay there, panting and gasping for air. His wounds were gone. Only a small scar, in the shape of a spider, was on his shoulder.
When he could, he looked at the figure. "Thank you, Mistress." He said apprehesively.
"I didn't do that for you, only for your service." She replied, venom in Her voice.
"What would You have me do?"
"For now, nothing. Be patient. There will be plenty of time to destroy My, our, enemies. Together, we will gather others. You are the first but not the only to be in My service. From today hence, though, you will be My knife, and that will be your name."
"Thank You, my Lady. My soul is Yours."
"Of course it is," The Goddess laughed.