A Loathsome Captor

Neluril completed the defensive circle with Lialith and Corky, bracing for the impact of the charging drow officer. He closed the distance with amazing speed, Neluril gripped his swords tight, his knuckles turning white.

The attacks came hard and fast, Neluril parried blow after blow, each parry falling slowly behind the oncoming attacks. Neluril suddenly realized he could not match the skill of this drow warrior, with the realization the blade of the drow nicked Neluril's arm, he defended with a renewed vigor, changing his stance to a superior defensive position.

He turned his gaze for but a moment to lock with Lialith's eyes, it seemed almost as if time stopped, a slight smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

He gave Lia a nod as her face betrayed her thoughts, as she could also see the skill of the drow was far greater than any of them, he then returned his attention to the battle infront of him, just as the drow was swinging with a downward strike, Neluril dodged to the side, taking this opportunity to turn to Corky "Get her out of here my friend! RUN!"

He parried another blow, the drow appearing to have over leaned in his attack, Neluril jumped at the opening in the drows defenses..... Suddenly, all went dark.........

"You will speak, surface dweller. We have ways of making you speak and you do not want to experience those ways. If you just tell us we will kill you quickly" Neluril remained silent as he gazed upon the Drow in front of him, examining the 'tattoos,' raised scar tissue that covered nearly every inch of the drows' skin, focusing on them to help ignore the pain. "Have it your way" The drow glanced upon Neluril's left cheek, noticing the large scar.

With a hideous chuckle he drew a dagger from his belt, touching the tip of the blade to the top of the scar. "Last chance..." Neluril ignored the cold touch of the dagger tip and continued to gaze upon the tattooed drow. The drow was surprised not to hear a single sound as his dagger ripped the scar open. The blood felt warm on his cheek, the only thought he gave to the matter before darkness claimed him once again.

Neluril lay in his cell, battered and bruised, the now open scar upon his left cheek still bleeding. He pressed a hand firmly to the open wound as he thought about his situation. Why?... why would the drow keep him alive, aye, he did have knowledge of Wayrests defenses, but was it not obvious to them that he would not speak, nor betray his kin.

In facing the drow through his torturous ordeal, he wore a mask of grim determination, now in his cell, alone, he could show his true feelings.....he wept silently, thoughts of his friends flooding his mind..... Had they escaped? were they suffering the same fate as he? These thoughts frightened him more than any of the drow that tortured him in this place.

Wiping his eyes, he turned to the only friend he knew could hear him, he pulled himself up off the floor into a kneeling position, and began to pray to Sehanine Moonbow, and promised to pray every moment he could while in this cursed place.

How much time had gone by? he could only guess, the constant torture bringing him to the threshold of death, then healed by the drow, only to have the process repeated. Neluril was a proud elf, he did his best to hold back his screams of pain, but the drow were masters of the art of torture and Neluril finally succumbed to the pain. They fed him.....just enough to keep him alive and to have enough strength to scream.

His prayers, although silent, continued. Sehanine Moonbow would free him, whether it be in death or escape. Although the drow kept him alive, they had made no more attempts to question Neluril, they seemed happy enough to torture him till he cried out in pain.

He glanced up from his silent prayer as the lock on his cell door clicked, the door swinging open. The drow had returned once again. His screams of pain resounded down the dark halls... "SEHANINE SAVE M....!" his screams cut short as darkness claimed him.