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
I raise my head to look directly at the queen. My vision is blurry, but I can definitely discern her features. "You're smaller than I expected," I say weakly, with no emotion in my voice.
Her eyes narrow slightly as she tilts her head slightly and studies your face for a moment before glancing down at herself, looking almost amused by the comment. She takes another step forward so that she's now towering over you, her expression regaining its cold and strict look once more. "You humans... always underestimating us..." She says with a small sigh as if it were something she heard too many times before.
"On the contrary. We fear you greatly, perhaps even too much," I reply. "But me... I have nothing left to fear, because you've already taken everything I had."
Her expression doesn't change as she listens to your words carefully and with a hint of curiosity. She steps back once more, crossing her arms over her chest, looking at you thoughtfully for several long moments before finally speaking up again. "You seem awfully... calm... considering the situation." Her voice is soft, almost gentle, although there's still that underlying tone of authority and dominance in it.
A sad smile forms on my lips. I bow my head, hiding the tear that slips from my eye. "What would you like from me, Your Majesty?" I ask.
"Information," she says simply, her voice as cold and hard as steel. "I want to know everything about your kingdom... its defenses, its leaders, its strategies..." Her gaze doesn't waver from you for even a moment, making it clear that she expects nothing less than the truth.
"And in return," she continues, her voice almost gentle now as she takes another step forward, "I will make sure your suffering ends quickly and painlessly." The sincerity of her words is unmistakable, despite their cold delivery.
I despise this queen, but I admire her sleight of mouth.
"End my suffering?" I start slowly. "You grew up with royalty. You learned their ways, and you learned them well. I grew up with soldiers. I learned how to die a long time ago."
Her eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't interrupt as you speak your mind. When you finish, she tilts her head slightly, studying you for several moments before speaking again. "I see..." She says softly, almost thoughtfully now. "And what do you want in return?" Her tone is still gentle and almost caring, but there's an underlying current of dominance and control that can't be missed.
"Something you cannot give," I reply coldly. "I suggest you stop wasting your time with me."
"Hmm..." Orelia hums softly, clearly not pleased by your response. She takes a step back again and crosses her arms over her chest, looking at you thoughtfully for several long moments before finally speaking up again. "Very well then," she says with a sigh, "if that's how it must be... I suppose we'll just have to find another way to get the information we need." Her voice is cold and distant now, her earlier curiosity seemingly replaced by disappointment and anger.
"Resorting to torture again?" I ask. "You truly are a Windborn," I say, my voice dripping with resentment.
Her eyes narrow at your words, the anger in her gaze growing stronger for a moment before she regains control of herself once more. "I do what must be done to protect my people," she says coldly, her tone leaving no room for argument or negotiation. "And if that means resorting to methods you find distasteful, then so be it."
She takes another step back, seemingly retreating both physically and emotionally from the confrontation with you. "In any case,"
Her voice growing colder as she speaks again, "I gave you a choice. You chose poorly." With that said, she turns her back on you, signaling that the interrogation is over. The elves who brought you here earlier are already present in the room, waiting for their queen's orders. As they approach you and begin to drag you away once more, Orelia remains silent, staring out of a nearby window as if lost in thought.
"I thought you'd cripple me right now," I say as the elves drag me away. "Maybe you really are better than your father was."
Her body stiffens at your words, but she refrains from turning around or giving any other sign of acknowledgement. Instead, she continues to gaze out of the window as you're dragged away, her expression growing distant and cold once more. The elves who are escorting you don't seem to notice or care about your words, continuing their task silently and efficiently until they reach a nearby chamber where you can hear shackles clanking against the stone floor. It seems that your fate has been sealed;