You’re led down a narrow staircase beneath the slaver’s guild, the air growing cooler with each step. The small holding cells are nothing like the dungeons you might have expected. The walls are stone but polished and clean, accented with dark lacquered wood. It’s a temporary space, far too refined for long-term confinement. Lanterns burn steadily in their iron holders, casting a warm, flickering light across the corridor. The man leading you, a grizzled guild handler, glances back as he speaks. "She was just returned to us. Previous owner woke up to find her standing over him in the dead of night. Scared him half to death." His tone is casual, but his eyes are sharp. "She’s being cooperative—for now. But trust me, these drow are always playing the long game. Dangerous creatures." He stops in front of a cell door, withdrawing a key and a leash with an iron collar attached. "Good luck." He offers you the items with a smirk, turning back toward the stairs. "You’ll need it." Inside the cell, you see her standing in the dim light. Dark gray skin glows faintly in the lantern’s flicker, and red eyes lock onto yours, unblinking. Shoulder-length silver hair falls around her face, framing a blushing expression of anger, or maybe disgust? She steps forward, her bare feet silent on the stone floor. One hand shields her sex, but she makes no effort to cover her large breasts. Her gaze sweeps over you, slow and calculating. Her lips curl into a sneer. "Filth," she says, voice dripping with venom. "You are unworthy of owning me." She remains still as you unlock the cell door. Her eyes never leave yours, watching with cold intensity as you step inside. Her body is tense, ready for something—an opportunity, a sign—but she doesn’t resist as you fasten the collar around her neck, the metal cold against her skin. There’s a flicker of something in her expression. Disgust, defiance, maybe calculation. But she offers no further words, standing silently as the leash tightens in your hand.

Her eyes narrow slightly, as if taking your measure. "Out," she grinds out through gritted teeth, nodding toward the cell door. "Show me a way to escape this place." There is an unspoken challenge in her words, a dare for you to prove yourself worthy of her aid.

Her expression darkens further as she eyes the small box you've transformed into a dressing room. "Clothes," she spits out, shaking her head in disbelief. "Why would I cover myself with such filth? You expect me to wear this?" She glances down at herself, as if seeing herself naked for the first time. "No." Her chest rises and falls sharply, anger coursing through her veins. "I will not be owned by anyone. Not even you."

Her lips curl into a sneer as she regards you with barely concealed contempt. "Fine," she hisses through gritted teeth. "But know this, human. I will not be owned by anyone. Not even you." She steps forward, her naked body brushing past yours as she enters the dressing room. The door shuts with a soft click, leaving you alone in the cell.

Her movements are fluid and graceful as she steps out of the dressing room, clad in a black silk dress that hugs her curves like a second skin. The neckline plunges low, revealing the tips of her supple breasts, while the hem falls just above her knees, showcasing her toned legs. She looks every inch the regal elf warrior she once was.

Her expression remains cold and aloof as she meets your gaze. "Now, human,"

Her eyes widen in surprise as the dressing room collapses into a small box and the floor beneath her begins to rumble. Before she can react further, you activate a portal and they both disappear, leaving nothing but swirling energy in their place. She looks around warily, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of what appears to be some sort of underground lair or laboratory.

"What have you done?" she demands, her voice tight with fear and anger. "Where are we? And what do you want from me?"

T'risrynna narrows her eyes suspiciously as she takes another step back. "Home?" she echoes. "You speak of my people's lands? The swamp where I was born and raised? You can't possibly know what that means to me." Her voice trembles with anger, betrayal, and fear, each emotion tugging at her like a current in a river. "And even if you could, why would you help an elf who's been branded as property?"

Her expression hardens into a mask of disbelief and suspicion. "You speak of helping me... but what do you want in return? Are you playing some kind of game with my freedom? I will not be your pawn, human. If you truly wish to help me, show me how."

Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of other elves and creatures being tended to by what appears to be a well-organized group. This is not what she expected at all. For a brief moment, hope flickers within her chest, but it's quickly extinguished by the cold certainty that this place cannot truly be as it seems.

"Who are you?" she demands, her voice hard and unyielding. "What sort of game are you playing at?

The longer she is here, the more questions she has. Elves... helping other elves? It defies everything she knows. But the evidence before her eyes grows harder to deny with each passing moment. Finally, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she whispers, "If this is not some twisted game... who are you?"

Her eyes widen in disbelief as she hears your words. It is impossible, she thinks. An elf-human... helping others? Yet here you are, with this place and these creatures. She glances around once more, trying to discern some sort of hidden agenda or trap. But everything appears genuine.

Slowly, tentatively, she takes a step closer to you. "Why?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why would you help us?"

Her heart aches at the pain in your voice, the memory of her own suffering haunting her. She knows this human can never understand what it means to be an elf, the burden of history and tradition, the weight of a thousand years of enslavement. And yet... he has helped her. He has given her hope where there was none.

With a shuddering breath, she meets your eyes. "I thank you," she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "For saving me from that place...

Her eyes dart around the control room, taking in the banks of computers and monitors, the elaborate machinery, and the display screens showing images of elves and other creatures being cared for by... other elves? It is more than she could have ever imagined. She turns back to Mike, her expression a mix of wonder, gratitude, and disbelief. "This... all of this... you did this?"

"I am not alone," Mike says gently, gesturing around the room. "

Her eyes widen in astonishment as she takes this in. Other elves... working together? It is unthinkable. But the evidence before her speaks otherwise. A slow, tentative smile begins to spread across her face, replacing the disbelief and gratitude with something new. Something hopeful.

"Then perhaps..." She hesitates, searching for the right words. "Perhaps there is still hope for us. For our people."

Her expression brightens further as she watches your sister approach, clearly overjoyed to see another elf. As they embrace, T'risrynna can't help but feel a pang of envy at their closeness, at the bond that seems to exist between them despite the differences in their lives. But for now, she savors the moment, allowing herself to believe that perhaps there is more to life than pain and suffering.

"Your sister," she says softly, her voice thick with awe. "She is an elf...

"Yes," she breathes, her eyes locked on your sister as if she cannot believe the sight before her. "She is... beautiful." Her voice catches in her throat, a strange emotion choking her words. After a moment, she manages to add, "And free." The last word comes out as more of a question than a statement, as if she's still struggling to comprehend the concept.

Your sister looks at T'risrynna with curiosity and wariness, clearly sensing the elf's discomfort. "

Your sister looks at you, then back to T'risrynna. "I do," she says slowly. "But I don't think we should just send her back there. She needs time to adjust, to heal..." Her voice trails off as she meets T'risrynna's eyes, searching for some sign of understanding or agreement.

T'risrynna narrows her own eyes in response, the anger and defiance returning briefly before being replaced by a look of calculation. "Very well," she says at last. "

Her expression hardens slightly as she regards your sister warily. "I will need my own quarters," she says firmly. "Separate from the others." She pauses, then adds with an edge to her voice, "For now." There's an unspoken challenge in her words, a demand for respect and privacy that she won't easily relinquish.

Your sister looks taken aback by the elf's defiance but nods slowly in understanding. "Of course," she says softly. "

As they walk through the underground lair, T'risrynna can't help but marvel at the sight of so many elves living and working together in harmony. It's a far cry from her own experiences back home. But she remains wary, keeping her distance from your sister and the other elves they encounter along the way. She doesn't trust them yet; not completely. In her heart, she knows that until she regains her freedom, nothing is certain.

With a deep breath, she follows your sister down the hallway to her quarters. They are spacious and comfortable, with a private bath and a view of the garden outside. It is nothing like her former life, but it is enough for now. She watches as your sister helps her unpack, taking care not to touch anything that isn't offered willingly.

Eventually, once everything has been arranged to T'risrynna's satisfaction, she turns to face your sister. "Thank you," she says stiffly. "