Ariel hung her head in abject dejection, locks of loose, blood red hair spilling down around her face even as thin streams of gooey white spunk dripped from her overstretched ass. She tried not to shiver from the chill in her gut, her bowels and even stomach feeling nearly full from Graz'zt's release. Her body hung limply from the arms of the mariliths carrying her, her spirit broken but her vows intact. Somewhere, deep inside the elf's heart, there was a tiny flicker of wordless courage.<br/><br/>Her vows were intact. She was still a saint, a paladin, an angelic being. She would recover from this indignity, and divine justice would, and could, be hers... if it was the last thing she did.<br/><br/>One hand pawed weakly at the collar around her throat, a foot catching the floor beneath her in a half-assed attempt to walk on her own. Out of the demon prince's presence, she was regaining her... herself. Her courage. Her divinity. If only she could remove this collar, she could destroy two mariliths with little challenge and escape this layer of Hell on her own.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>