Shadows were normally so welcoming to Cris, they offered shelter, a chance to be unseen, a place where she could imagine she was safe. But in a cell of this size, all the shadows in world could not hide her, the others always knew  she was there. Her father had mostly refused to speak with her, but the other two had spared her the odd word, vulgar observations or details of their crude intentions for her body.  Now the other two were dealt with, their lives each ended in their own sickening fashion, and it was only the two of them left. It was because of her father that she hadn't been taken already. He had protected her, or so she liked to think. In reality she knew he had simply been saving her for the right moment and price, but maybe now that their cellmates were dead, she would be spared? It was comforting thought, and she liked to pretend he cared for her.<br/><br/>Even if it was her fault, it was her fault they were here. She had been careless, left a tell behind, that had allowed the people to find them. And so they had been captured, bound in iron, and thrown into this depressing cell to shiver, sleep, shit and eventually die. She wanted to apologize to him, but what could she say? He didn't want to hear from her, he must still be angry. Sure enough she flinched at his voice, that mocking, cutting voice. Trembling she backed away from the door. It wasn't true, not quite. She had wanted to see an elf, a true elf, like the ones in the stories. But yes, maybe he'd be a prince, or a warrior, and perhaps she had though he could save both of them, but really she just wanted to see a full blooded elf. Before, before, this all ended.<br/><br/>She slumped against the cold wall, her fingers desperately scratching along the cold service, two of her nails were swollen with blood under them from doing this so many times. Finally she found the two loose stone she had left there and her body stilled. She fiddled with them, swapping them in a single hand, careful not to let them touch. After several cycles and some measured breathes, she was calm again, calmer, but all that did was allow her to drink in the details of the cell. Damp, cold air, mouldy roof, unyielding stone and metal. She shifted and unable to resist it her hand went to her neck, feeling the cold hardness locked there. The iron collar had hurt her neck at first, by day the skin chafed at first, rubbed away completely by sundown, healed over by night, again and again, each time the skin rebuilt itself a little stronger, until finally it no longer stung, it was just a weight there, constantly pushing down on her shoulders, leaving her with a dull ache deep in the neck.<br/><br/>Hearing the rattle of keys she scurried to the door again. Perhaps it wasn't the guards this time, maybe it was lord, here to pardon them...but of course it wasn't and she jumped back from the monstrous metal visage when he yelled, flattening her body against the wall as best as she could. She stammered to answer the question, but the other saved her the need.<em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">“Please, don't, do, please!”</span></em>she uttered softly, barely audible and she heard them describe their fate. She didn't even know what she expected, they would never let them go, and she couldn't bring herself to beg for a swift death. It was probably best that they couldn't distinguish her words from the whimper.<br/><br/>Despite her fear she offered no resistance as she was chained to her father, though every muscle in her body was tensed at being so near the guard. Her father was trying to negotiate freedom, theirs or his, but he probably wouldn't-<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>  “FATHER!” </strong></span>she cried in distress as the guard first slammed their sheathed blade across his legs, then the other stamped on the chain, sending him crashing to the floor. Cris stumbled herself, but agile foot work kept her upright with a little twirl. She rushed over to her father, only to recoiled at the sight of his bloodied face. He was still talking, so perhaps he was okay, but what was he saying? Was he, did he want her to be a girl now? She didn't understand.<br/><br/>It probably didn't matter, not now. Roughly they were jostled down the corridor, out, into a bigger area, and there were others, but they weren't prisoners. An empty area, roped off, without walls or bars, but they were stilled chained. Cris drew breath quickly, her chest fluttered and she tugged at the iron collar useless, succeeding only in hurting herself. This was it she knew, their nightmare would soon be over. Would eventually be over.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">reflex save</div><div class="spoiler_body">  Summary: At 2017-11-04 04:33:27, LisztesFerenc (uid: 24350) rolls: 1d20a+6 Result: 13 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=109539)<br/><br/>Full Result: LisztesFerenc rolled: 1d20, adding +6 to the total<br/>Comment: Criss reflex save<br/>Result: 7, <br/>Total: 13</div></div>