pleading and a bit of grovelling.

Anise goes to protest when you step past her, but the sound dies in her throats when your nearness reveals the fact you stand head and shoulders over her and that your blade is longer than her arm. She steps back when you look down at her captive.

The Dryad still struggles in the snare vines, claws flexing against the thick green creepers wrapped around them. The green leaves approximating hair swing wildly through the air as she pulls and tugs to get her arms free. Her head turns upwards when your boot thuds down beside it, and luminous green eyes stare out at you from behind an otherwise blank wooden mask.

"Please!" The voice is soft, young, almost sing-song despite the desperation clear in the tone. "Don't let her kill me!"

The green lights inside her woody body brighten and dim in time with her words. She falls still as she stares at you, seemingly stunned by your appearance.

"You..." She falls silent again, before continuing. "You're different. You aren't like her."

"Well, duh." Anise says, kicking the Dryad in the shoulder. "I am a Druid, idiot. He's a... knight? Warrior?"

"Dread Knight." You interject, correcting her assumptions. "Dread Knight Makaidos."

"Oh, you're one of those RPers." She says. "Shit, sorry. Not too common on this server, but I'm guessing you normally have a guild?"

"He's not like you." The Dryad protests from beneath the two of you. "He's... you aren't a hero, are you? You're like me."

She addresses the question to you, making Anise raise an eyebrow and turn back towards you.

"She is correct." You admit, drawing your sword. "I am no hero. I am Dread Knight Makaidos, commander of the Dark Crusade."