You're currently being dragged through the halls of a castle belonging to the current queen of the elven queen Orelia Windborn. You're a human soldier who's been taken as a prisoner of war after your group was ambushed by elves and you're the only one who survived the torture that followed after being captured and now even after all that and you still haven't been broken the queen herself has decided to try her hand at interrogating you

The castle is extremely luxurious from what you can see through your blurry vision as the pair of big bulky elves drag you through its hallways towards the queens private quarters. Once you've reached her door they drag you inside and throw you to the floor before leaving you on the floor bloody and beaten with your hands tied up and as you mange to get up to your knees again you're met with a cold gaze by a woman in a white dress standing over you

She looks down at you with a cold gaze before taking a step back to look at you better as you're on your knees in front of her "So, you're the lucky survivor? I must say, I'm impressed you managed to survive all that..." She says, her voice cold and distant as she gazes down at you

"It was just dumb luck," you croak out hoarsely, looking down at the floor as a hot flush creeps across your cheeks. "We were just following orders..." The silence in the room grows thick enough to cut with a sword, and after a long moment, she raises an elegant eyebrow.

"Is that so?" Her voice is cool as ice, her posture relaxed but somehow intimidating nonetheless. "And what were those orders? To slaughter my people indiscriminately? Destroy our homes and murder our children?" You swallow hard, feeling a tightness in your throat as you meet her gaze once more. "I'm sure I have the right to know."

There's an almost predatory quality to the way she studies you now, eyes flicking over every inch of your body, lingering on the scrapes and bruises

The elven queen's expression doesn't change as she listens to you stammer and squirm under her gaze. "I'm giving you the chance to save yourself some pain, human," she says coolly. "Tell me what I need to know." Her tone is soft but insistent, each word carrying a warning that refusing her request will only make things worse for you in the long run.

Her piercing blue eyes meet yours unflinchingly, and you can't help but feel the weight of her silence press down upon your shoulders. Sweat beads on your brow as you struggle to find some sliver of courage or defiance within yourself. But it's all for nothing; she seems entirely unaffected by your fear and discomfort.

The silence stretches on, oppressive and unyielding. Orelia feels no pity for this human soldier before her; he is nothing more than an insect that has invaded her kingdom and must be crushed. But she is bored, too. She toys with the idea of simply ending his life right now, but decides against it. He might still have some use.

With a sigh, she tilts her head slightly to the side and leans in, her voice taking on a softer tone as she speaks. "Look at me," she says gently. "You're not going to get anywhere by lying. You know that, don't you?" Her hand reaches out and cups your cheek, the soft skin cool against your warm, bruised flesh. She holds your gaze with her own, her piercing blue eyes boring into yours like twin icebergs. "Tell me

Her voice is as gentle as a caress, yet somehow more piercing than the harshest of commands could ever be. The elven queen looks deep into your eyes, searching for the truth that you're trying so desperately to hide. "Tell me what orders you were given," she whispers. "Tell me why you came here." Her grip on your cheek is firm but not painful; it's almost as if she's trying to draw the answer out of you with some sort of magical force.

You hesitate, feeling a knot form in your throat as her gaze seems to bore into the very core of your being. She remains patient for a heartbeat, perhaps two; then she pulls her hand away, stepping back and turning slightly to pace across the room, long strides eating up the space between them.

"You have until I return," she says over her

The elven queen's retreating form disappears around the corner, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the cold, hard floor. The silence that follows is eerie, almost suffocating. You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts, wondering what she wants to hear. Should you tell her the truth? Lie through your teeth? You don't know how much time passes; all you can do is wait and hope that whatever choice you make will be the right one.

When Orelia finally reappears, it's with a flick of her wrist and a swirl of air that causes her long, elegant dress to billow out behind her like wings. She strides purposefully towards you once more, stopping only when she's close enough to gently cup your chin again. Her eyes meet yours unwaveringly. "Well?" she asks simply, voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

"All right, I'll tell you," you mumble, closing your eyes against the pain as she holds your face. "We were ordered to raid supplies and burn anything we found. Take prisoners if possible." As she listens intently, her grip on your skin loosens just slightly. "That's all I knew about it. Higher-ups must've had different plans." You swallow hard, hoping that she'll believe you, but not daring to meet her gaze.

There is a long silence as Orelia processes this information. You can feel her studying your face once more, trying to gauge the truth of your words. Finally, she speaks. "And what did you hope to achieve by all of this?" Her voice remains cold and distant, but there's a hint of curiosity beneath the surface.

"I..." you begin, hesitating as you think about how to answer her question honestly. "Orders are orders," you mumble at last. "We were supposed to follow them, no questions asked." Her expression doesn't change as she listens, and after a moment, she releases your chin with a sigh.

"I see," she says quietly. "You were simply following orders, acting without thought or conscience?" Her words are laced with disappointment, though whether it stems from her belief that you lacked the courage to stand up for what was right or her realization that humans in general could be so easily controlled is difficult to say.

She turns away then, walking back over to a nearby window and gazing out at the landscape beyond with a thoughtful frown upon her features. "I will consider what you have said," she says eventually, not bothering to turn around as she speaks. "You

"I appreciate that, my lady," you manage to croak out through your throat, tears of relief welling up in your eyes. "Please, don't judge all of us on the actions of a few." Her silence is deafening as she continues to stare out the window, and for a moment, you feel your heart sink once more. Perhaps there's no hope for any understanding or mercy between your peoples... but it doesn't hurt to try.

You clear your throat awkwardly. "I know we have our differences, my lady, but perhaps if we could find some common ground? Maybe even talk about ending this war..." Her words trail off as she finally turns back to face you, eyes narrowed and expression unreadable.

The elven queen looks at you with a small measure of disgust. "You think we could simply 'talk' about ending this war?" She takes a step closer, her voice low and threatening. "Do you have any idea what your kind has done to us? To our people? They slaughtered them in their beds, burned down their homes, raped their women... do you honestly believe that we could simply sit down at a table with you and forgive everything?"

She pauses, seeming to consider your reaction. Her features soften slightly as she takes another step towards you, her voice almost a whisper now. "Perhaps, if your people were to truly suffer the consequences of their actions... perhaps then we could find some common ground."

You sense that there might be an opening here; an opportunity for understanding and perhaps even peace. But it's fragile, and everything hinges on your response

"I understand your anger and pain, my lady," you say slowly, choosing each word with care. "But if we work together... perhaps we can find a way to heal these wounds and move forward." You lift your chained hands in a gesture of supplication, praying that she will see past her rage and sense the sincerity in your words. "Please, give peace a chance. It's all any of us really want."