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

"Perhaps you should've been more merciful... Instead of bringing me back here to suffer even more." You spit out as venom and anger fill your words. "I can only tell you what happened, but it'll not change anything about our hatred for each other..." The queen arches an eyebrow at your words, obviously amused by the notion that you somehow expect mercy from her.

"So be it," she sighs, taking a step closer to you. "Tell me then... Why is your king so intent on invading our lands?" Her voice remains cold and distant as she studies your battered form with disinterest.

The queen tilts her head to the side, looking at you intently as if trying to decide whether or not she should believe your defiant words. "I see... You think we started this war? Little human, do you even know our history? We have lived here for thousands of years, in peace and harmony. It wasn't until the humans began encroaching on our borders that we were forced to defend ourselves." Her voice takes on a hint of anger as she continues, "Your king sees only conquest and domination. He cares nothing for the lives he destroys in his quest for power."

She pauses, studying your face once more before continuing. "But perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps you know something of this? Maybe there's another reason for your king's aggression?" Her tone remains distant and detached, but there's a hint of curiosity now as she awaits your response.

Her eyes widen in surprise at your words, and for just a moment her expression softens as she takes a step closer to you. "I... I'm sorry," she whispers, the emotion in her voice making it almost unrecognizable. "To lose someone you love... I can't even begin to imagine the pain." The coldness returns to her gaze, and she draws herself up straighter as she continues, "But your vengeance will not bring them back, and it will only cause more suffering for both our peoples. There must be another way..." Her voice trails off, leaving the question hanging in the air between you.

The queen's posture becomes formal once more as she studies you intently. "You fight well... Better than any human I've encountered before. Perhaps there is a place for you in my elite guard if you were to swear allegiance to me? I would

You spit your words at her, anger and pain fuelling your defiance. The queen's expression hardens in response to your bitterness. "Very well," she says softly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you with renewed disdain. "If that is truly how you feel... Then I have no choice but to make an example of you." With a swift motion, her hand snaps out and a gust of wind envelops your body. You're lifted off the floor, helpless as she carries you through the air before flinging you violently against the far wall with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs.

As you slide down the wall, coughing and wheezing, Orelia walks up to stand before you once more. "I will give you one final chance," she says coldly. "Swear allegiance to me, and I will spare

A humorless smile touches her lips as she studies you. "Yes," she says coolly, "I see potential in you... But do not mistake my mercy for weakness. If you refuse to swear allegiance, the price will be steep." She pauses, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "You could very well end up like your fallen comrades... Or worse." Her voice is cold and calculating, leaving no doubt as to what she means by "worse."

The silence between you stretches on for several heartbeats before Orelia steps back, her expression hardening once more. "Very well," she says at last, "I will give you time to consider your answer. But make haste, for my patience is wearing thin." Without another word, the elven queen turns and sweeps from the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts...and the echo of her words

Her eyebrow arches in surprise as she hears your voice, weak and broken as it is. "You have made your decision?" She asks quietly, her tone still cold but with a hint of curiosity beneath the surface. The queen approaches you slowly, studying your ravaged form with a mixture of pity and disdain. "So be it," she says finally, "You will swear allegiance to me... As my personal guard, to protect this kingdom from those who wish us harm." She extends her hand toward you, the symbolism clear. You must choose whether to take it or not.

Seeing your weakened state, Orelia takes pity on you and reaches out with her other hand, cupping your chin gently before lifting your head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes are still cold, but there's a flicker of warmth behind them as she studies your face, searching for any sign of deception. "I expect complete loyalty from you," she says firmly, "And I will not tolerate betrayal." She pauses before continuing, her voice softening slightly. "But if you prove yourself worthy, I can offer you more than just service to me... Perhaps even friendship." Her touch lingers for a moment longer before releasing your chin, allowing your head to fall back down to rest against your shoulder.

"You have a choice," she tells you softly. "You can either continue on this path and swear allegiance now... Or I can leave you here

The queen arches an eyebrow at you, her expression unreadable. "Very well," she says coolly. "I hereby accept your oath of allegiance. You will serve me as my personal guard... And perhaps in time, we can find a way for our peoples to live together in peace." She offers her hand once more, palm upward, symbolizing the bond between you now. "What is your name, human?"

A faint frown touches the queen's features as she watches you struggle to speak. "Very well," she says, her tone gentler now. "You have much healing ahead of you... But for now, rest." With a swift motion, she waves her hand and a breeze carries across the room, soothing your wounds and easing your pain. Her eyes meet yours once more before drifting away, studying the tapestry on the far wall as if deep in thought. "We will discuss your name at a later time," she says softly, not bothering to hide the relief in her voice that you are no longer suffering so greatly.

The room grows quiet again as Orelia turns back toward the window, lost in thought while you slumber peacefully on her floor... The events of the past few days beginning to recede into the distance as exhaustion finally takes its toll and pulls you under

As the dawn breaks through the window, you awaken with a start at the sound of movement nearby. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and glance around the room before finally spotting the elven queen standing by her desk, carefully reviewing some papers. She doesn't appear to have noticed your presence yet.

Unable to help yourself, you study her as she works. Even in repose, there is an air of authority about her that commands respect. Her posture is regal and erect, her movements graceful despite the fact that she isn't wearing anything close to formal attire. Her long hair flows freely down her back, catching fragments of light as they dance in the sunbeams streaming through the window behind her.

The sound of her voice interrupts your musings as she speaks to someone outside the room. "Yes, I understand your concerns," she says coolly, "But we must trust in our

The queen turns her head slightly at the sound of your voice and arches an eyebrow before continuing her conversation with the person outside the room. "I appreciate your efforts," she says reassuringly, "But for now, we must focus on protecting our people. Once the war is over and peace has been restored, we can discuss other matters." She pauses, considering something before asking, "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

There's an undertone of curiosity in her voice as she glances your way again, not entirely certain what sort of reaction she should expect from a human who has been given a second chance at life by her.

Orelia raises her hand and snaps her fingers, immediately summoning a servant into the room. The elf bows deeply before the queen and then glances at you briefly before hurrying off to fetch food and drink. As you watch them go, you can't help but feel grateful for Orelia's unexpected mercy... And perhaps even a bit curious about what your new role will entail.

"Very well, Panstai," the queen replies with a nod as the servant returns, carrying a tray laden with food and drink. "You're welcome to eat while we wait for them." Her gaze drifts back to the papers on her desk before she continues, almost thoughtfully, "I must admit I am curious about your past, Panstai. How did you come to be a prisoner of war?" There's a hint of genuine interest in her voice, as if she truly wants to know more about the human who now serves under her command.

"Ah, I see," the elven queen replies with a raised eyebrow, seemingly unperturbed by your hesitation to share more details about yourself. "And what of your family? Do you have any loved ones who may be worried about your fate?" Her question is delivered casually, almost offhandedly, but there's a weight to it nonetheless as she studies your face for any sign of guilt or shame.

As you finish eating and begin to gather yourself together, she glances up from her desk once more, her expression unreadable. "Well then, Panstai," she says coolly, "I suppose it's time we discussed what role I have in mind for you." She pauses dramatically before continuing, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It seems only fitting that my personal guard should know how to protect not only me, but

"Why would I be afraid of that?" She asked coolly, her eyes piercing into yours. "You swore an oath to serve me and protect this kingdom. Breaking such a vow would only bring harm upon yourself, as well as those you claim to love." Her voice was calm, but the implied threat was unmistakable.

She paused for a moment, seeming to consider your words. "Very well," she finally said, "I will accept your concerns. But know this: should I ever discover such treachery on your part, there will be no mercy shown." Her tone was cold and unyielding as her gaze bore into yours.

After a moment more, she sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair. "I suppose it is time to get you settled in then," she said, more softly now. "There are accommodations prepared for you in the palace, as

The words seem to pierce through her cold exterior as you speak about your family and your loss. Her expression softens slightly, a flicker of understanding lighting up her eyes. "I am sorry for what happened to them," she says sincerely, her voice gentle despite the formality of the setting. "And I understand your desire for revenge... But know this: I do not wish for you to suffer as they did."

She pauses, considering her next words carefully before continuing. "You may leave whenever you please, Panstai. This kingdom is your home now, and I will not force you to remain against your will. However, if you choose to stay and serve me loyally... Perhaps we can find a way for us all to heal from our wounds, together." Her gaze meets yours earnestly as she waits for your response.

Her eyes meet yours, studying your face as she contemplates your words. "I see both," she says finally. "You have the potential to become an excellent weapon in my army... Or a beacon of hope for those who have suffered at the hands of war." She tilts her head slightly, a curious expression playing across her features. "What is it that you truly desire, Panstai? Power? Revenge? Or perhaps something more?"