Originally posted by Bronze

Her captivity seemed to be eternal. It’s difficult to keep time in here. It’s always dark. Her keen hearing picked up heavy footsteps.  As she shifted to look down the hallway, the cold iron chains grew taut reminding her of captivity. She slumped back in defeat.

What is to become of me? What have I done to deserve this?

She used to have company. One by one they were removed. None ever returned. The human woman continuously wailed. The dwarf was full of bravado when he was sure no one was listening.

Someone was always listening.

The she-elf drew strength from her faith. She must have; she prayed all the time. The others didn’t say much. At least two didn’t have an option. They were always gagged. She could tell by the mumbling.

The quiet was maddening. She missed the noise; even the wailing. She sat on the wooden floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and closed her eyes, resigned to her fate.

Some time had passed and she looked up. Crimson eyes full of focus gazed upon her. Startled, she let out an involuntary gasp. 

How long has he been there?

“Bring her.” was all he said as he walked away.

Four elves in black armor took his place. Keys jingled as the door was unlocked. The iron door groaned in protest as it was opened.  Rough hands grabbed her. She was cowed and her hands were expertly bound behind her back. An iron collar was placed around her neck and a black canvass hood was placed over her head. She was led out of her prison by a leash.

Even with her senses dulled she could tell that she was being led out of town and into the swamp. Her hot breath was trapped in the canvass hood and made it difficult to breath.  No being able to see made it difficult to walk. The trek was long and arduous. Her escorts did not speak and made very little sound during the journey.

Eventually she was stopped. Her skin became irritated as the canvass hood was ripped off of her head. A male drow stood before her bathed in moonlight.  His crimson eyes felt like they were digging into her soul.

“I am Nazmyr Vandree.” His voice was calm and sure. “Do you know this place?”

She looked around. The landscape looked familiar. Her attention was drawn to a field of impaled bodies. As she regained her bearing, she realized that she was on her temple grounds, but the temple was markedly different than what she remembered. Slowly a look of disbelief formed on her face.

Nazmyr smiled.

“What is this?!” They were the first words she’s spoken in….

Nazmyr whispered in her ear.  “Your masters were torn asunder by me.”

“That’s not possible!”

“Isn’t it? The temple you knew is gone; wiped from existence. “

She was unable to respond.

“I eradicated the filth that dwelled within.”

She would have cried if she could.

“You show sorrow. Why? Your masters threw you in a hole filled with sewage. They left you to die a slow and miserable death. I saved you.”

She looked up at him.

Nazmyr continued. “When I look into your eyes, I see something familiar; humiliation, pain, and sorrow. I am a highborn drow and even I endured misery.”

She continued to look into his crimson eyes and no longer feared his gaze.

“What is your name?”

“Ossuru.”

“We have more in common than you think Ossuru. I understand your pain. Unlike your former masters I see value in you. I can be generous to you, but you must first earn my trust.”

“What do you want from me?”

“All I require is your loyalty. Embrace me as your liege. In exchange I offer you a second chance at life. “

“Do I have a choice?”

Nazmyr looked at the field of impaled bodies. “There is always a choice my dear. “