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Arena by donteatpoop
You decide that it's best to take the risk and apply the salve. You put the mosses and leaves into your mouth and begin chewing. The old man was right, the taste is rancid. After chewing them into a mush you take the substance out of your mouth and stick it on your wound. It burns a little at first but the numbing effect of the herb soon takes over.

"Why are you helping me?" You ask the old man.

"Because the moss is poison," He says; cackling like a crazy man.

Your mind reels. This crazy old kook may have poisoned you with this herb, but he won't live to see tomorrow. You take a swing at him that he sidesteps easily enough, moving with the reflexes of a cat.

"Be calm, Doctor Metzger, I made a jest. A poor one, I admit. But fear not, you are not poisoned." He tells you.

You aren't sure if you believe him or not, but are pulled from your fury by the realization that he called you by your name.

"You recognize me then?" You ask.

"Of course I do," He replies; "Your work in the genetics field was groundbreaking, though they've made several advancements since your incarceration."

"Why are you helping me?" You ask again after a period of silence.

"I am proposing an alliance. Should you and I make it to the end, we split the money." He says. "Just don't expect me to travel with you. I don't trust you enough. I am sure that you share the mistrust, and rightly so. You and I don't exactly know one another.

"My proposal is simple; should we both make it to the end we yield the battle and split the prize," He says; "What say you?"
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End Of Story

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