something that could be interesting

A Prologue(reamastered)

Naria

The moon hung high in the sky and the birds ceased their songs, while in a single jail cell lied a near motionless figure.

This woman had countless wounds upon her pale purple skin, all recently inflicted and bled ever so slightly, but something of little concern to her. After all, she had been wounded countless times, and however grave her injuries were. they never lasted, for elves were known to heal quickly, this concern was far surpassed by the knowledge that her head would be rolling on the ground at first light. And for the first time in ages, she was out of options.

She traced her finger across the moist stone walls as she lamented her fate and felt the bite of her wounds.

It was a bit too fortunate for such a lucrative deal to have arrived at her doorstep. The task would have been easy were it not a simple ruse meant to trick her into imprisonment.

A fat nobleman dressed in red was her mark, He would be in his study at midnight, and he would be unguarded. As she drove her dagger into the man's neck, the doors burst open behind her and a dozen men surrounded her, she was quite surprised as it was not common for her to be snuck up on. She gazed at the spear formation which formed quickly in front of her, blocking her every path, the men who surrounded her held their shields close, and smelled of sweat though it was a cold night , they watched as the elf weighed her options and disarmed reluctantly, even after her weapon had hit the floor the room was silent and the men remained motionless, one man was commanded forward, he trembled slightly as he made his approach cuffs in hand, the silence was broken by the clicking of hand cuffs and sighs of relief.

The door to her prison block flung open and two men reeking of alcohol lurched towards her cell.

"Told you she woulds be here," exclaimed the fat one in a cocky manner. "See, me and ma buddie 'ere saw em wheelin' you in 'ere and thought it woulds be a shame to let a pretty face like yers go to waste!"

When he opened the cell door with his keys, the elf let out an exasperated gasp. As much as she would've enjoyed breaking their fingers one by one, her body was broken, and she was unarmed.

The short one shoving his friend aside while unbuckling his belt complained in a sheepish tone, "this was my idea, so I get to play with her first."

The fat one shoved him back and proclaimed, "Hang on a minute 'ere, I's the one who got Brahms to lend us the keys so I's should the one who gets to play with er first."

The elf rolled her eyes so much that it hurt the scar right above her right eyelid as the two argued on, pushing each other and. the fat one became agitated and sprung a wild haymaker, being drunk and much taller than his buddy he swung wildly over his head, throwing too much weight into his strike he lost his balance and fell to the ground, amidst chaos they failed to notice a shadow approaching them silently.

The short one pointed at his floored friend and laughed. "Ha! you never could hold your-" before he could finish, an unlit torch smacked him over the back of the head with such force that the torch had bent over, at that very moment his undone belt had given up and his pants fell to the ground. He tripped over his own garments and banged his head against his friend who was in the process of getting up and both were rendered unconscious.

The elf was not surprised for her pointy ears heard the clumsy footsteps from far away, however she was quite curious of his intention. It became clear that to her that he was not here to join in the fun but that still did not mean that their intentions were pure.

The hooded figure dropped the broken torch and raised his hand to lift his hood revealing a kind face under the light of the moon.

He smiled. "Not a moment too soon, huh? Let's get you out of here."

He removed his hood in an elaborate fashion and wrapped it around the elf's body while being wary not to aggravate any of her wounds. He picked her up carefully.

The elf writhed slightly, but she did not struggle.

The man hurried down the corridor with the wounded elf in his arm, he looks down at the elf who now is now on the verge of a deep slumber.

"Now, that was fun. What's your name?" he asked.

Before she drifted off, she replied in a cracked voice.

"Naria."