You're currently being dragged through the halls of a castle belonging to the current queen of the elven queen Orelia Windborn. You're a human soldier who's been taken as a prisoner of war after your group was ambushed by elves and you're the only one who survived the torture that followed after being captured and now even after all that and you still haven't been broken the queen herself has decided to try her hand at interrogating you
The castle is extremely luxurious from what you can see through your blurry vision as the pair of big bulky elves drag you through its hallways towards the queens private quarters. Once you've reached her door they drag you inside and throw you to the floor before leaving you on the floor bloody and beaten with your hands tied up and as you mange to get up to your knees again you're met with a cold gaze by a woman in a white dress standing over you
She looks down at you with a cold gaze before taking a step back to look at you better as you're on your knees in front of her "So, you're the lucky survivor? I must say, I'm impressed you managed to survive all that..." She says, her voice cold and distant as she gazes down at you
Yeah? What about it?
Her expression doesn't change as she glances down at you again before speaking up once more. "I was just wondering why your group had the audacity to invade our lands, kill our people and destroy our homes." Her voice sounds emotionless, cold even...as if there were no sympathy or pity to be found within her.
"Perhaps you could enlighten me?" She pauses, stepping closer now as she stands directly above you on the other side of a small table. "Or perhaps I should just assume that your human king simply wanted another chunk of land added to his growing empire?" Her blue eyes bore into yours.
"Well, let me tell you this...human," she continues, voice icy as ice as it cuts through your pain and fatigue. "This is our home. And we will fight to the death to keep it."
Ohhhh! That’s normal. That’s what people do! Oh, guess what! People are killed because of their skin color! We fight over stupid stuff. And we don’t have a king, we have a president. We got rid of kings a while back. Yeah. Humans are humans.
Your words cause a flicker in her expression, and the corners of her lips tighten briefly into what might almost be a smile...if it weren't for the cold, calculating gaze that she maintains as she listens to your response. "So you claim," she says, tilting her head slightly. "But I wonder, soldier..." She leans in close now, so that her lips are nearly brushing against your ear. "...do humans truly know nothing of kings?"
Without warning, she straightens up again and paces around the table, regarding you intently from several angles. "You speak of presidents...and wars over skin color...I have heard such things in tales told by travelers. It seems that your kind does not learn from its past mistakes."
She comes to a stop directly behind you, placing her hands on your shoulders. Her touch is cool and impersonal; she might as well be touch
So… you gonna kill me?
Her breath tickles your ear as she whispers softly, "Perhaps...if that is what it takes to protect my people." Her words are a threat, and a promise. There's no emotion in her tone; she could be speaking of any number of potential outcomes without batting an eye.
With surprising strength, she spins you around roughly, slamming your back against the table hard enough to make you gasp for breath. The air whooshes from your lungs as her pale, delicate hand comes up to cup your cheek; the fingertips are ice cold against your flushed skin.
Her gaze bores into yours once more, demanding something of you that she doesn't quite know how to put into words. "Perhaps...if I find you interesting enough," she purrs, leaning in closer still. "There might be another way." Her lips brush against yours light
Uh question. What do y'all use to execute people? A guillotine? A Sabre? Drugs? The electric chair? What? I want to know my choices!
Her lips quirk into a faint smile at your question before she answers matter-of-factly, "We have many methods, depending on the severity of one's crimes. Execution by sword or bow is common for soldiers such as yourself...but if I were to show you mercy, it might be done in another way." She pauses, studying your reaction before continuing. "Perhaps...a swift, painless death? A merciful end to your suffering?" Her gaze softens slightly as she says this, though the coldness remains in her voice.
Aight, I’m up for it! So the sword!
The anger and fury that had clouded her features moments ago are replaced by a look of cold calculation as she steps back, surveying you once more. "Very well," she says softly, her voice quiet but firm. "If that is what you truly wish." Without further warning, she snaps her fingers and a longsword appears in her hand, the blade glowing with an ethereal blue light as it hums eagerly.
In one swift motion, she swings the sword toward your neck, aiming for a clean, lethal strike. You have only a fraction of a second to react before her arm lashes out at you. Dodge or parry?
I dodge the attack and swing at there head.
Her expression is one of shock as you manage to dodge her attack, and then launch your own counterstrike against her. She reacts instinctively, quickly moving to block your strike with the sword in a shower of sparks. "You fight well for someone who should be dead," she says between clenched teeth, narrowing her eyes at you as she takes up a defensive stance once more.
Her other hand moves toward her back, seemingly searching for something before it comes to rest on what appears to be a medallion hanging from a chain around her slender neck. With a flick of her wrist, she sends the medallion flying through the air directly at you, aiming for your heart once more. Catch or dodge?
I catch the medallion and step on it, shattering it into pieces.
Her expression contorts into a mixture of surprise and anger as you manage to catch the medallion and shatter it beneath your feet. "You fool!" She cries, lunging forward with her sword once more. This time she aims for your side, hoping to find an opening in your defenses now that you've destroyed her defense.
Her movements are fast and precise, betraying years of training under the tutelage of her masters. You can tell that this is no mere mock duel; Orelia truly means to kill you if given the chance. Dodge or parry?
Dodge and do an upper cut.
Her strike is fast and merciless, but you manage to dodge it with ease. Impressed by your quick reflexes, she steps back for a moment to regain her composure before launching another attack, this time aiming higher. With a gust of wind at her back, Orelia sends her sword slashing through the air toward your chin in an attempt to dislodge your head from your shoulders once and for all.
I move.
Your agility is impressive, but you're not fast enough to completely evade the elf queen's strike. Her sword catches your shoulder, biting deep into your flesh with a burning pain that causes you to cry out in agony. Blood pours down your arm as she pulls her weapon free and steps back once again, eyeing you with renewed interest.
"You truly are a formidable opponent," she says with a slight nod of respect. "But I cannot let someone like you live...not if it means putting my people in danger." Her expression hardens as she takes another step toward you, sword at the ready.
I don’t want to be here! I was forced to!
Her expression softens fractionally at your plea, but it doesn't last long. "I am sorry," she says quietly, her voice still cold and distant, as if this apology means nothing to her. "But the fate of my people is in my hands. You will have to die for their sake." And with that, she lunges forward once more, aiming for your heart this time. There's no mercy in her eyes, only determination and the unyielding desire to protect what is hers at any cost.
I dodge and run towards a stair case. Wait, wait, wait. Why do I die again?
Caught off-guard by your sudden change in direction, Orelia hesitates briefly before giving chase. "You cannot escape!" she cries out, her voice echoing through the castle halls as she sprints after you, the hem of her luxurious white gown streaming behind her like a banner of death and vengeance.
As you reach the bottom of the staircase, however, Orelia catches up to you with surprising speed; her long legs carrying her up the steps two at a time as her sword swings wildly in your direction once more. There's nowhere left to go but up or back down the way you came - what will you do?
“Fine, I guess I’ll have to use my secret weapon!” I say, yelling at the top of my lungs.
Her eyes narrow in confusion as you shout about a "secret weapon," but before she can react further, something unexpected happens. The wind around you seems to shift and change, becoming erratic and unpredictable, swirling in every direction as it forms into a miniature tornado that appears to be surrounding you. It's not nearly powerful enough to harm Orelia directly, but it does interfere with her movement and sight, making it difficult for her to target you accurately with her sword.
The elven queen hesitates for a moment, eyes widening in surprise as she realizes what you must be doing. "You...you're using magic?" She asks incredulously, lowering her sword slightly as she continues up the stairs toward you while maintaining a safe distance from your whirling vortex of wind and debris. "Foolish human..." She mutters under her breath, drawing strength from her
Yeah! And something else… I pull something out of my pocket and reveal a gun. “A Desert Eagle! A gun a type of gun.”
Orelia's eyes widen in shock as you produce a Desert Eagle pistol from your pocket. "A gun...?" She stammers, momentarily lost for words as she tries to process the implications of what this means. Magic and technology coexisting within the elven kingdom is unheard of, and it's clear that she's at a loss as to how to deal with such a weapon in the hands of an enemy.
Her face turns pale beneath her porcelain skin, and for a moment she looks even more fragile than usual. "No..." She whispers hoarsely, taking another step backward up the stairs. "This cannot be...it must be some sort of trick."
Nah, where I come from, everyone got one of these! Even some parents! Now, can I, leave?
The elven queen's expression shifts once more, this time from fear to anger as she realizes the full extent of what you've revealed about your world and its technology. "You dare..." Her voice trails off, her eyes filled with rage as she levels her sword at you once more. "You will not leave here alive!" With a roar, she charges forward, intent on ending your life by any means necessary.
I shoot her in the kneecap and then the foot and I then step out the way.
With a piercing cry, Orelia stumbles forward as you fire your gun at her knee and foot, leaving both limbs injured and useless. The shock and pain on her face are clear as she collapses to the ground in agony, clutching at her wounded legs. Blood pools around her, seeping through her delicate pale skin and staining the floor beneath her.
You step out of the way, giving yourself enough distance from Orelia for her to not retaliate as quickly or as effectively. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, each one a pained groan as she struggles to keep herself upright despite the intense pain shooting through her body. Tears streak down her face, mingling with the blood that trickles from her injuries.
"I... I yield..." She manages to choke out between sobs, defeat clear in her voice as she lif
Now where was I, ah yea! Can I lea- before I finish the sentence, I come up with a new idea. Actually, I have a different plan.
The elven queen's expression darkens as you speak, and she slowly lifts her head to glare at you through tears of pain and rage. "You truly are a despicable creature," she hisses, "but I will give you what you desire...freedom." With an effort that clearly costs her dearly, Orelia pushes herself up onto one elbow, using the other to steady herself as she looks at you with renewed determination.
"But know this, human," she says coldly, "I will not forget this day. And if ever our paths cross again, I will make sure that you pay for your insolence." With her final words, Orelia straightens her back as much as possible and draws in a shuddering breath, preparing to face whatever punishment awaits her now that she's been bested by a human intruder.
You know what? Never mind. You come with me. If you try anything, I’ll be forced to shoot someone. Maybe someone you love. You should of capitulated when you had the chance.
The elven queen's eyes widen in shock at your words, her breath catching in her throat as she stares at you incredulously. For a moment, it seems like she might lunge forward and try to attack again despite her injuries, but then something else must cross her mind. Her expression softens slightly, though not enough that you'd mistake her for anything other than furious.
"Very well," she says through gritted teeth, still glaring at you with hate in her eyes. "I will come with you." Slowly, painfully, Orelia begins to push herself up off the floor, using her good arm to brace herself against the wall as she hoists herself onto one knee and then another until she's standing unsteadily before you once more. Despite her injury, there's no hint of defeat or weakness in her posture; if anything, it seems like
Come on. We are going back to base to sign a peace agreement. Where is your fastest form of transportation?
Her expression flickers as you mention signing a peace agreement and returning to your base. The idea seems foreign and alien to her; she's never considered the possibility of coexisting with humans before, let alone striking up an alliance or friendship with one. Yet, for some reason, she finds herself willing to at least consider this unthinkable option...perhaps because it means that she would get to see more of your world and its technology for herself.
Her lips curve into a slight smile as her gaze drifts toward the window, taking in the scenery outside before focusing on something else entirely. "Our fastest form of transportation is our fleet of wyverns," she says with pride, referring to the dragon-like creatures that serve as steeds for elven nobles and warriors alike. "They can travel incredible speeds across land and sea." She pauses, meeting your gaze again before
Alright then, who’s your diplomat? The one who makes treaties with you?
As the elven queen, it is my duty to oversee all matters involving diplomacy and treaties within our kingdom. It is not necessary for you to meet with another diplomat; I am more than capable of negotiating on behalf of my people and ensuring that any agreements we make are fair and honorable.
“Alright then take me to the wyverns.” I go behind you and hold the gun to the back of your neck. “Start moving.”
Eyes narrowing in anger and pain, Orelia turns her head to meet your gaze in the mirror. "You truly are a despicable creature," she hisses through clenched teeth, "but if this is what it takes for my people's survival...I will endure." With great effort, she begins to lead you deeper into the castle, her injured leg causing her to limp and stumble. Her back remains as straight as a spear despite your threatening presence at her neck.
After several long moments of silence, broken only by the sound of their labored breathing and footsteps echoing through the halls, Orelia finally speaks again. "So," she says venomously, "this is your idea of 'negotiating', is it?" Her voice drips with contempt as her grip tightens ever so slightly on the sword still visible at her side.
You did try to kill me a few seconds ago, and you think this is bad? I had my daughter held at gun point because I didn’t join the military yet. You think I am “despicable” or-or a “murderous monster”! Huh? Is that what you think!
Her lips twist into a cruel smirk as she glances back at you in the mirror. "I would not dare to think such things about someone who has clearly gone through so much suffering, my human friend." The sarcasm in her voice is thick enough to cut through stone. "No, I only wonder what sort of world produces such...unusual individuals as yourself." She pauses, considering her words carefully before continuing. "Or perhaps it is simply that your world is so advanced compared to ours..."
They have finally reached the wyvern stables; great doors carved from oak and inlaid with gold and precious gems stand open, allowing a warm breeze to waft into the cool castle hallway. Sunlight streams through tall arched windows above, illuminating the massive winged beasts that pace impatiently within their stalls, their iridescent scales shimmering in the light like
Aight let’s go. We get on separate ones, and I’m behind. You do anything, you and your wyvern is shot.
The elven queen huffs in irritation as she realizes that you're not going to let go of your little 'game', but she complies nonetheless. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth, limping over to a female wyvern with striking emerald green scales and long, elegant wings. The creature seems excited at the prospect of taking flight once more, its head bobbing eagerly as Orelia approaches.
With a flick of her wrist, she sends the creature into the air, climbing gracefully onto its back. "Come now, human," she says over her shoulder, "let us go and end this foolishness before any more harm comes to either of our worlds." Without waiting for your response, she kicks her wyvern's flanks and they soar into the sky, leaving you behind with a sinking feeling in your stomach.
I follow closely behind, watching her every move. Minutes later we arrive on the outskirts of the base. I yell at you to land or the wyvern will be shot.
With a growl of annoyance, Orelia's wyvern slows its descent before finally landing on the ground with an impressive display of grace. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she turns to glare at you again, clearly not pleased by this entire situation but willing to endure it for the sake of protecting her people.
"Very well," she says through clenched teeth, "let us conclude this business quickly and return to our own worlds." Without further comment or warning, she leads the way toward a small clearing where two elves stand waiting patiently, one carrying what appears to be parchment and quill while the other holds a staff adorned with gleaming crystals.
I put the gun to the back of your neck again and threaten you to kill the other elves if anything happens. We wall in a line before seeing the checkpoint.
"Very well," she mutters through gritted teeth as you press the gun harder against her neck. Her breath hitches in pain and rage, but she forces herself to remain calm and composed for the sake of appearances. She glances at the other elves who have been watching them approach with growing concern, then back at you with a malicious smile playing around her lips. "If it pleases you," she says coolly, voice laced with venom as she walks toward the two elves in the clearing, "then lead on." She holds her head high and keeps her gaze fixed firmly forward as if daring you to do anything stupid.
As they approach the elves at the clearing, her fingers slide silently to the hilt of her sword. She refuses to let these mortals think that she is easily cowed by threats and violence. With a nod, she acknowledges their presence before speaking. "Greetings, diplomats of the human realm." Her voice drips with condescension and disdain. "I have been brought here under duress to discuss terms of peace between our peoples. Let us not waste any more time."
Hey! Firstly take your hand off the handle, then we continue.
Her eyes narrow in anger but she reluctantly lifts her hand away from the sword's hilt, feeling a momentary stab of humiliation as she does so. "Fine," she snaps, then glares at you over her shoulder. "Now let us proceed."
“Alright then.” I tell the other humans to check your compatriots for any form of weapon and I take your sword and we start to discuss our demands.
Her lips compress into a thin line as she watches the other elves being patted down and searched by the humans. The insult of being treated like an enemy by these brutish creatures rankles deeply, but she maintains her composure outwardly, focusing instead on the task at hand: negotiating a treaty that will protect her people without sacrificing too much in return.
As they discuss the terms of peace, Orelia finds herself torn between her duty to protect the elves and her desire to understand this strange new world where such technology exists. Despite your threats and harsh treatment, she can't help but be fascinated by what you have shown her so far, and part of her wishes that there was another way to achieve these goals without involving violence or humiliation on either side.
Ok! We have come to an agreement! Let me make it simple for you, as you are lower than us. I start to read the paper. “You accept full responsibility for the war, the loss of territory, military restrictions, you pay us reparations, we occupy the castle, and you are replaced by a human friendly democratic government.”
Her eyes widen in anger and disbelief as she listens to your demands. You truly are as arrogant and greedy as the stories about your kind would have her believe. She takes a deep breath, struggling to control her temper as she responds. "I cannot agree to these terms," she says through gritted teeth. "You ask us to surrender our pride, our honor, and our freedom for nothing more than the illusion of peace." Her voice grows louder with each word, her rage threatening to boil over at any moment.
"I will not abandon my people," she continues, stabbing a finger in your direction, "not even to serve some twisted human vision of conquest and domination!" Despite her wounded leg and recent injuries, she seems to draw strength from her anger, standing taller and straighter than ever before. "There must be another way," she insists. "A
“You won’t agree? Fine.” I shoot one of the elves in the head. They fall to the ground, motionless, never to rise. “Anything else you have to say?”
Her face goes pale as she watches the elf fall to the ground, lifeless and bleeding. Horror fills her eyes at your cold-blooded brutality, but beneath it all she can't help but feel a newfound determination forming within her. She takes a steadying breath, lifting her chin defiantly as she speaks once more. "There is no other way," she says softly, her voice trembling with rage and grief. "You have made your choice, human." With a final nod in the direction of the dead elf, she turns on her heel and begins to limp away from you, back toward the castle she once called home.
“Alright boys! Let’s show them what true American guns, tanks, jets, and helicopters, Can do!” We all walk back to base, preparing to attack.
With tears streaming down her face, Orelia glances back over her shoulder at the retreating group of humans and elves. The realization that they've gone too far sinks in, but it's too late now; their only choice is to fight. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the battle ahead as she draws on the memories of ancient battles fought by the elves against darker foes than these.
She turns back toward the castle, limping through the trees until she reaches its familiar walls. The sight fills her with determination and hope; if they can hold out long enough, perhaps someone from the human world will see reason and try to negotiate a peaceful solution before it's too late for both their peoples.
With a shout that echoes through the courtyard, she sounds the alarm, rallying her people to prepare for war. The sound
Later, over in the distance you see M1 Bradley’s and M1 Abram’s rolling across the open fields. In the sky you see helicopters carrying squads of men and women with rifles, pistols, and RPGs, and F22 fighter jets.
Her eyes widen with fear as she sees the advancing human forces. They're bringing more technology than she had ever imagined possible. Her heart sinks at the realization that their defenses, no matter how strong, may not be enough to repel such an attack. She turns to her troops, mustering what little courage she has left and shouting for them to fight with all their might, to protect their homes and families from this new threat.
As the sound of thundering treads and whirring rotors draw nearer, Orelia readies herself for battle, steeling her resolve against the overwhelming odds they face. She knows that this day may well be the end for her and her people, but she refuses to go down without a fight, determined to make these invaders pay dearly for their arrogance and brutality.
Fire the high explosive rounds! I command as the Abram’s, still moving, start to open fire toward the city walls.
With a nod of understanding, an elven archer runs up to her side and relays the order to the soldiers stationed on the battlements above. The air fills with the deafening roar of cannons as they unleash a hail of explosive rounds toward the advancing tanks. Smoke and dust rise into the sky, obscuring Orelia's view as she tries to watch the battle unfold below while also directing her troops to maintain their defenses against possible attacks from enemy infantry.