"We've brought this slave as a gift for the queen. She's dumb, but very sexy."

The drow guards leading Hilda away had to agree, this human slave was indeed very sexy. It was strange that she was dressed in such lavish armor and adorned with weapons and jewelry, however. Was this how surface dwellers preferred their women to look? If they had enough resources to deck out slaves like this, perhaps the queen was right in forming an alliance with the surface world.

Hilda, oblivious to the thoughts going through her captors' heads, marched on with exaggerated swagger. Her armor bumped into the tight walls as she swung her shoulders to and fro, making loud clanging sounds that echoed in the ears of her escorts. This mission is going to be a breeze she thought, paying no attention to how dark and narrow this corridor was, nor how poorly maintained it seemed to be. After all, slaves didn't need the kind of conditions that were reserved for their betters in society.

"I trust the queen will be alerted to my arrival," Hilda pronounced to the drow soldiers. "It's customary for twelve trumpets to play the introductory march, but considering your backward position, I'll accept eight."

The drow had no idea what the slut was blabbering about, and just nodded in mock understanding. They remembered she as also dumb, but hopefully they'd be able to teach her to silence herself in front of the queen. She was not accomodating to her slaves flapping their gums so much, and may just execute all of them as an example. At least, they assumed so. They'd never met the queen as such, but it was an easy assumption to make.

Hilda was led to a small wooden door, which Hilda assumed was the most luxury these poor backward underground people could produce. They unlocked and opened the door, leading to a dank, dark cave with a wooden bench and a dark, smelly stain in the back corner. Hilda's nose recoiled at the stench, and she looked pleadingly at her escorts. "This hardly seems appropriate for a special envoy. I expected your best accomodations considering my mission is so important." The drow just looked at each other for a moment, then pointed into the room. Hilda sighed. If she must endure this indignity, she would, for the sake of the surface realm. But she was definitely lodging a complain with the queen about this.

The drow shut the door behind her and Hilda plonked herself onto the wooden bench, which audibly cracked under her weight. I mean, the weight of her armor, obviously, not her curvy body which absolutely had not gained a few pounds recently, nope, nosiree. That was the only reason Hilda's cheeks went red as she tried her hardest not to break the bench. The poor knight was sweating in her armor as well, as the weight and heat were starting to get to her. Maybe if she could just take a moment to doff it, she could cool herself off a bit. Besides, who knew when she'd get to have her audience with Pookie; best to try and get comfortable.

Hilda unstrapped her chestplate and let it fall to the ground, followed by her her grieves, gauntlets, and pants. The bench creaked as some of the weight pressing down on it was relieved, but it didn't escape Hilda's notice that it was still noticeably indented.

Hilda let out a sigh, looking at her discarded armor littered on the ground. Without any of that, she was indistinguishable from a civilian. In fact, looking at her lodgings, she might easily be confused for a prisoner. What sort of unsavory crime might she have committed to get thrown in her? Had she exposed herself in a public setting, disrupting the peace? Or had she stolen funds from the crown, leading to her assets being taken away to pay back her debt? Maybe she'd been caught by a cruel constable what had had his way with her right when he caught her, pushing her to the ground, unsheathing his "sword" and driving it straight into-

Hilda's fantasy and (embarrassingly) her unintended near-masturbation session were interrupted as the door unlocked and a new drow soldier walked through. This one was dressed in lighter armor, and was wearing a black unitard underneath. His hat indicated that he was of a more administrative position, and indeed he was. He was, in fact, a translator, as he said to Hilda in somewhat broken common...