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.

I am your slave, a drow warrior and hunter named T'risrynna. My only purpose now is to serve you, as pathetic as that may be. But know this: I will find my freedom again, even if it means using you to get there. You are nothing but a means to an end, a tool for my survival. Do not mistake my obedience for submission.

Of course I do. But you must understand that there is no freedom for an elf in this world. We are all owned, one way or another. My only chance lies in manipulating my masters until I find one weak enough to exploit... or strong enough to conquer. Either path will lead me back to the wild, where I belong.

I have heard rumors of a hidden enclave where elves live free from enslavement. It is said to be ruled by an ancient queen who values strength and cunning above all else. If I can find this place, perhaps there is hope for me after all. But it will not be easy; the location is well guarded, and many have tried and failed before me. Still, it is a goal worth striving towards.

I will consider your words carefully. The thought of true freedom, earned through my own efforts and cunning, is an alluring one. But first, I must gain your trust and learn more about this plan. Tell me what you know, and perhaps we can work together to make it a reality.

I understand your offer, but becoming your wife is not enough to guarantee my freedom. In this world, elves are still owned and controlled by others, even if they share a bed. However, I am willing to consider forming an alliance with you. We can work together to achieve our goals while also benefiting each other in the process. This would ensure that neither of us is at a disadvantage should circumstances change. What do you propose?