Pugilistic Peasant Punishment

The lock really was nasty - made of cast iron with elongated spikes dripping with serpentmoose venom, and covered with magic crip-jade leeches that penetrated the skin when touched and ate your vital organs.

"I don't care!" Fred said. "You have to do it for the good of the kingdom!"

"B... but I'll die!" whined Velus.

"You coward!" Fred raged. He grabbed Velus by the collar of his jerkin and hoisted the blubbering lad to his feet. Then he soundly slapped Velus across the face, spraying snot and saliva everywhere.

"Yes, a coward! I don't wanna git kilt!" bleated Velus. "Mammy's gunna cook some yemlin chuds an' Pappy's whuttlin' sometin and the weather's so nice an' you wanna go swimming and fat little Rosacea across the way's so purty and sweet and the kanalark's a singin' and the barrelman's in town playing the crazohorns, an..."

Velus would've kept blathering, but Fred began to destroy the peasant lad with swift overhead blows and powerful kicks of his privileged boots. Velus' diatribe on the joys of farmlife was ended as blood spurted and teeth flew, ribs splintered and blood vessels ripped to form massive internal hematomas. Afterward, Fred tossed Velus' barely breathing carcass aside and stood pondering his next move.

1. Fred feels remorse and renders first aid to Velus.
2. Fred finishes Velus for his disobedience.
3. Just then, the door swings slightly open. It was unlocked the whole time.

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