Feign submission, and look for an opening

"Yield." You say hoarsely. Your throat is parched and dry, and the taste of blood lingers in your mouth, metallic and sharp.

Nautilex stares at you, serrated sword raised high for the killing blow. His face twists into a number of emotions. Confusion, anger, frustration, but lastly, a huge malicious smile grows on his face. This chills you, more than anything else.

"I yield. Please, I can't fight any more." You raise your hands up in defeat.

"Sso the human yields, does he?" He says after a time, lowering the point of his blade to the ground. "Grovelling and squirming like an earthworm, begging for mercy. Disgusting." He violently coughs up a gob of phlegm and spits on you. As you feel his saliva strike you, the burning desire to leap up and kill him smolders in your chest, but you **** it down again, biding your time. When you show no outward sight of resistance, Nautilex clicks his teeth, "On your feet then, pathetic human."

You rise to your feet slowly, looking around for your weapons. Too far, you realize, as you spot the glinting metal more than five feet away. "I've seen how wrong I was," You say, hoping you sound broken enough, "Let me serve the demon overlord, and I will loyally follow him to Morgent or anywhere!"

He watches you with caution, but flicks his finger to indicate that he wants you to follow him. Walking alongside Nautilex to the mouth of the bridge, you subtly keep track of where your weapon lies. As each step takes you closer to the blade, you have to **** yourself not to look at your sword.

"Well then, worm," The lizardman says suddenly, pointing off far to the right, "I think it is about time to test your so-called loyalty."

You are taken aback by his sudden demand. Turning to where he is pointing, a terrible dread seizes your heart as you see what is approaching. "No." You whisper softly. Not this. You thought that you were prepared, but not for this.

"Oh yesss." Nautilex replies, grinning with canine teeth, "What were you expecting, sstone-bearer? There is always a test of loyalty for turncloaks." A handful of Elven soldiers match towards you and Nautilex, their golden hair stark against their blackened ringmail and red cloaks. They are dragging a prisoner along with them, a young woman disheveled and bruised no doubt by the fighting. When the guards drag her close enough, he seizes a handful of scarlet hair, "And there is no better test than the **** of past allies."

"Hans?!" Ceinwyn exclaims, struggling against the Elven guards holding her. There is fear in her eyes, and you think some of that fear includes you.

The lizardman spies your short sword lying nearby. With a flick of his tail, Nautilex seizes your weapon, scaly tail wrapped around leather grip. He slowly dangles it in front of you, point facing downwards. The sheen of your blade reflects the pale red flames that burn off in the distance, giving it the color of blood. You know what he is about to say next, and he knows it too. And he is enjoying every second of your torment.

"Kill her." Nautilex says, "Kill the girl, and prove your loyalty to Vanarim, my master."