There is still one member of the group left... Nearby.

The woman is still there. She did not run away. But you quickly realize that she just couldn’t run away. Somebody, most likely the leader of this group, has chained her to a large wooden stake. She is clearly afraid when you walk up to her.

“No, please don’t kill me!” she begs and pulls in panic at her chains, “I know Devin talked a lot shit about you, but that’s not my fault. Please. I never meant you any harm.”

“You were with this human?” you ask and bow down to her, which clearly “you will tell me …”

“Please not!” the woman cries and you can see tears run down her face, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was just a joke when I offered Devin to fuck him on top of your body. I didn’t meant it. I had no idea you are alive. I just wanted him to not beat me. Please. I’m sorry.”

You hesitate for a moment. You had no idea she offered anybody something like this. But the fact that she also made jokes about using you like a common sextoy makes you angry.

“What has happened here?” you ask harsh, “what year do we have?”

“What year?” she asks trembling, “s-sure. For which country? Every nation has it’s own timeline.”

“What year after the dark messiah birth?” you ask still harsh, “the timeline of this country!”

“Who?” the woman says afraid and slightly sobs, “I don’t know who you are talking about. This land has no timeline. This land... This island is called... The Island of Grey Osiers... It is a no-man's land of ruins that is sometimes used as a temporary base by pirates, mercenaries, or the tribal bands of orc nomads that sometimes come from the Bone Coast region. The tribes have no single ruler who would establish a timeline.”

You are almost as confused as this woman. Nomads, tribes, pirates?! This is the cult’s territory. You were **** to defend and suppress it for almost a century. There were about a dozen cities with a population over 50.000 each. That can impossible be all gone and forgotten now. You need to try it somehow else. What from your time could possible still be around? The elves probably. Elves can live for about 400 years. The cult often invaded the territory of other elven city-states to steal their knowledge gold and take some slaves.

“Who is the current ruler of the nearest elven state?” you ask and try to sound calm.

The girl is on the verge of panic from horror and mutters in a voice trembling with tears: “The ruler of what specific state? Wait! Don’t kill me! Please! I’ll remember now... The Free City of Tior-Faen is not a monarchy, there are many elven aristocrats who rule collectively... Obviously, you are interested in another state... The isolationists-elves from the Great Domain of Loten-Rael! There is a monarch ruling there now... What is his name?! Supreme Most Serene Lord Lerion! Yes! That is his name and title!”

Uncertainty is felt in her voice.

She continues to look at you fearfully and says: “but I don’t know much about the elven government. Elves mostly not consider half elfs and quarter elfs as part of their race. I swear it.”

“Is a woman called Allenwen his wife?” you continue.

“Wife?” the woman asks uncertainly, “I … no he is not married. But I think I read in books that his grandmother's name was Allenwen. The former Queen Allenwen. She died a long time ago. Probably about a century ago... She was over two hundred years old then.”

You are silent. And the woman at your feet has problems deciding if this is a good thing or not. The truth is, you know the name Allenwen. She is the daughter of the elven queen from your time. When your master came home from a strategy meeting with outer high-ranking cultists, he complained about the fact that they are not allowed to make the elven princess a ****, because she is only 20 years old, which is roughly the equivalent of a five-year-old human girl.

The dark messiah once ordered that ever captured child under the age of 18, or whatever age is the beginning of maturity for the race, shall be taken in by a family of his true believers and raised to be a loyal follower of his glory. You never were sure which fate would be worse.

However, if the quarter elven woman in front of you is telling the truth, and it seems that way, this would mean you spent more than 300 years under the rubble of your old master’s house. You were sure it couldn’t be more than one century. Rather less.

“Is … is everything alright,” the woman asks afraid, “if I said something wrong, I’m sorry. I swear to the gods I only answered honest. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I … just had to realize … that I was stuck down there for more than three centuries,” you say and the shock is clearly to hear despite your metallic voice, “I … I need to go … and think … somewhere else.”

“Could you … please let me go,” the woman begs **** and pulls at her chains, “please. I have been a **** for most of my life too. I just want to go. I swear I will disappear and never cause you any trouble. You will never see me again.”