Give your chain to your father.

You look from the arrogant tribal Chief to your shamed, collared, defeated father and, in spite of everything, your heart goes out to him.

"I said I would stay by you, no matter what," you say proudly, as you offer your astonished father the free end of your collar chain.

"Son, I do not deserve this..." he objects. But even as he does, you see him regarding you in a new light, unable to keep his eyes from taking in your young, hot-blooded body, bred on the finest elven stock, to breed in turn. That seems to decide him. Before you are quite aware of what you are agreeing to he takes the end of the chain from you.

The tribal Chief laughs loudly, as Brogar uses heavy iron tongs to fasten the short chain to the ring on your father's collar. "So be it. You may begin tonight, entertaining us at our victory feast." He turns to his lieutenant. "For now, let them rest and, if they are smart, practice. Secure them behind the warg pens!"

The chain is too short to leave much space between you, not that your father seems inclined to. He slips a comforting arm around your waist, drawing you close as you are led away.