You have no choice but to wait… You hope to speak with the locals and perhaps persuade them to show you some mercy…

The walls of the chamber look like… the thick, intertwined roots of a large tree!

An exhausted sigh escapes your lips…

It seems there is no way for you to escape from here right now.

You are so weak from your wounds…

You try to regain some of your strength by sleeping…

Alas, four hours later, you are jolted awake by a rather rough awakening…

You’ve been roused by hard kicks to your plump bottom!

A pair of elves, armed with daggers, loom over your naked, wounded body.

"Before the druid returns to the village, we’ve been tasked with interrogating you, you stinking half-breed bitch! Answer us - who are you, and how dare you cross the sacred border of the Great Domain of Loten-Rael!" - the questions are punctuated by more kicks, and the razor-sharp steel of a dagger is pressed against your delicate throat.

"Please… don’t… don’t hurt me!" - you stammer pitifully.

Then, in a muddled and disjointed way, you tell them about your life at the tavern, your mother, and the little you know about your noble elven father.

You go on to describe the sudden arrival of armed elves at the tavern…

And you mention that you are the heir to lands and titles…

These last words provoke a burst of uproarious laughter from your interrogators!

"Hah! Hah! Hah! I ought to cut off a finger for that lie, you vile half-breed! But this is just too funny! A pathetic bitch with the vile blood of humans in her veins, babbling about the right to inherit the lands of a pure-blooded elven lineage! Hah! Hah! Hah! You’re just a mad bitch - instead of a brain, you’ve got the semen of a hundred males who’ve fucked your mouth!" - one of the elves can barely stand, doubled over with laughter, clumsily wiping tears from his face.

The second male-elf laughs too, though more composedly, then says quietly: "Perhaps this is nothing more than the fevered delusions of a primitive mind... But what if, amidst this torrent of absurdity, there lies a grain of truth? What if someone tried to use this half-breed slut as a puppet in some devious scheme? They surely fed her a pack of lies about inheriting titles and the like - but could she have been a pawn for one of the conspirators? And could any of those conspirators still be within our territory?"

The interrogation continued for some time...

When pressed for answers about what became of the armed elves who had abducted you from the tavern, you managed, somehow, to spin a reasonably plausible lie...

"Ow! Please, don't hit me! They’re all dead! Near the border, they ran straight into a large group of armed humans! I got scared and fled into the woods! I just stumbled onto your lands by accident!" - as you cried out from yet another painful kick, you had the presence of mind to realize that revealing the truth (that you had become a "vessel" for the will of the ancient deity Painal) would be a fatal mistake. Finally, the interrogation comes to an end…

The elves depart…

The "doorway" closes behind them in a peculiar fashion: a multitude of thick tree roots simply weave themselves together.

Clearly, some form of druidic magic is at work here…

You lie helplessly on the wooden floor… and weep…

Your "jailers" didn’t even bother to feed you or offer you so much as a drop of water…

This is a clear indication that, in their view, you are destined to perish soon, one way or another.