The undercity of Dresh’Vol is silent now, but you can still hear the echoes of your disgrace ringing between its carved obsidian walls. You were never meant to leave. No dark elf is. Surface exile is a sentence worse than death—a promise of slow humiliation beneath the burning sun and the contempt of your own kind. And yet, here you are, stripped of rank, wreathed in shame, and cast out of your people’s subterranean empire.

It wasn’t murder. It wasn’t even intentional. You were just a student, barely through your third circle of arcane study, when the spell misfired during the dueling trials. A spiraling weave of uncontrolled energy, wild and unpredictable, ripped through the favored slave of Matron Qelvra herself. The boy turned to ash with a scream that has haunted your sleep ever since.

Normally, House incidents like this are smoothed over with coin and custom, but your family—rich in gold but bankrupt in courage—refused to pay the reparation fine. They said it was politics. They said making enemies of Matron Qelvra was bad for business. And you? You were the convenient scapegoat.

Now, you're banished. You wear a collar inscribed with your debt, magically sealed, binding you to ten years of exile or until you can pay the matron’s blood-price. Your magic remains, but your resources are scant. The surface awaits—with its wild forests, burning skies, and eyes that don’t blink in darkness.

Your house didn't even trust you to survive alone. They sent someone with you.

A shadow moves behind you. You don’t need to look to know they’re still there. Watching. Waiting.


Before you depart, you must choose the tools you'll carry into this hostile world. You may select two spells to bring with you. Or choose only one spell… and accept the company of the guardian your house insisted you take.

> Flame Lash (Red) – A whip of fire that sears enemies and can ignite flammable objects. Useful for combat and survival alike.
> Vine Grasp (Green) – Animate the vegetation around you to entangle enemies or create climbing supports. Works even on dry plant matter.
> Mystic Ward (White) – A basic protection spell that deflects minor physical and magical harm for a brief time.
> Ghost Bolt (Blue) – A shimmering projectile that passes through walls and strikes targets behind cover. Can also be used to trigger distant mechanisms.
> Shadow Leech (Black) – A curse that saps strength from a foe and transfers it to you. Weakens enemies, strengthens you.
> House’s Hand – Know only one spell of your choice, but take with you a loyal guardian: Velas, a male drow blade-dancer, trained since childhood to serve your house’s elite. Cold, quiet, and fiercely capable, he was sent with you "for your protection." But you know he reports back to your mother.
> Write in

>>6248683 (OP)
>Ghost Bolt
>Shadow Leech

>>6248683 (OP)
>Flame Lash (Red) – A whip of fire that sears enemies and can ignite flammable objects. Useful for combat and survival alike.
>Mystic Ward (White) – A basic protection spell that deflects minor physical and magical harm for a brief time.
Accidental dark elf pyromaniac?

The blacksteel gates of Dresh’Vol sealed behind you with the slow, final groan of ancient hinges. You didn’t look back.

Two guards flanked you as you climbed the winding, crumbling stair that led to the surface—a rarely-used passage, slick with slime and choked by roots. None spoke. Their helmets hid their expressions, but you imagined they were smirking. Why wouldn’t they? A dark elf cast out, student robes turned travel rags, magic barely under control. A fine joke.

At the top of the stairs, the world opened.

The sky was wrong. Vast and yawning, it pressed down on you with a terrifying expanse of stars—cold and distant and utterly indifferent. A pale white disc hung low: the moon, they called it. It shimmered like bone. You stared at it too long. It stared back.

The guards shoved you forward, handed you a sealed scroll containing your exile sentence, and retreated down the stairs. The gate ground shut behind them. You were alone.

You wandered for hours, drinking in the alien world. Trees taller than towers, leaves soft and rustling, night-bugs blinking like lost runes. The air smelled of rot and life at once. You could almost forget the shame gnawing at your spine.

And then the sun rose.

You did not see it at first. You felt it: a slow creeping heat on your skin, the prickling rise of invisible needles. The light was everywhere—blinding, oppressive, raw. Your stomach twisted. You dropped to your knees. Then—

You vomited. Violently. Endlessly.

By midmorning, you were crawling. You could barely see through the haze of tears and bile. Your skin burned even through your hood. You needed shade. Shelter.

That’s when you saw it.

>>6248691


An old stone building in the distance, sun-bleached and half-choked by dead grass. You staggered toward it, praying it wasn’t a mirage. The wooden door creaked inward at your touch.

Inside, the air was stale, but cool. You dropped to the ground. Safe. For a moment.

Then you heard the sound.

Moaning. Rhythmic. Wet.

You blinked through the gloom—and saw them. A human couple, entangled in each other, writhing atop a bed of yellowed grass and cast-off blankets. You stared. You’d read about this in anatomy scrolls, seen crude sketches, but it was so… raw… so loud. So alive.

It made you sick again.

This time, the bile splattered directly onto the man’s back and the woman’s thigh. They both screamed, leaping apart. Your brain scrambled to make sense of their words—but all you heard was frantic noise. The man shouted, waving his arms. The woman scrambled for a cloth, shrieking something sharp and fast.

You wished you’d paid more attention in Foreign Tongue III.

What will you do?

> Raise your hands and smile – Maybe showing you’re not a threat will calm them down. Smile. That’s what surface people do, right?
> Flee back outside – You’ll risk the sun a bit longer if it means avoiding whatever this awkward situation is turning into.
> Try a spell to calm them – Maybe if you use magic—gently—you can show peaceful intent. You hope they don’t see it as an attack.
> Imitate their language – Mock some of the noises they made, but friendlier. Maybe they’ll get the idea.
> Intimidate them – Bare your teeth, summon something, make it clear you are not prey. You could have killed them. They should be grateful.
> Draw your weapon and demand silence – You don’t know the words, but sometimes tone is everything. This is your shelter now. They’ll understand.
> Write in

>>6248683 (OP)
>>6248688
>>6248690

I'm gonna leave the spell vote open until tomorrow, just wanted to get the first update out of the way.

I will probably update once or twice a day.

>>6248692
> Raise your hands and smile – Maybe showing you’re not a threat will calm them down. Smile. That’s what surface people do, right?

>>6248688
+1

>>6248692
>Hit them with Shadow Leech to restore your own vitality and weaken them, in case they are hostile

>>6248683 (OP)
> Ghost Bolt (Blue) – A shimmering projectile that passes through walls and strikes targets behind cover. Can also be used to trigger distant mechanisms.
> House’s Hand – Know only one spell of your choice, but take with you a loyal guardian: Velas, a male drow blade-dancer, trained since childhood to serve your house’s elite. Cold, quiet, and fiercely capable, he was sent with you "for your protection." But you know he reports back to your mother.

>>6248692
>> Raise your hands and smile – Maybe showing you’re not a threat will calm them down. Smile. That’s what surface people do, right?

>>6248692
>Try a spell to calm them – Maybe if you use magic—gently—you can show peaceful intent. You hope they don’t see it as an attack.

>>6248683 (OP)
> Ghost Bolt (Blue) – A shimmering projectile that passes through walls and strikes targets behind cover. Can also be used to trigger distant mechanisms.
> Shadow Leech (Black) – A curse that saps strength from a foe and transfers it to you. Weakens enemies, strengthens you.

>>6248692
> Flee back outside – You’ll risk the sun a bit longer if it means avoiding whatever this awkward situation is turning into.

>>6248683 (OP)
> Flame Lash (Red)
> Mystic Ward (White)

>>6248692
> Flee back outside – You’ll risk the sun a bit longer if it means avoiding whatever this awkward situation is turning into.

>>6248683 (OP)
> Ghost Bolt (Blue) – A shimmering projectile that passes through walls and strikes targets behind cover. Can also be used to trigger distant mechanisms.
> Shadow Leech (Black) – A curse that saps strength from a foe and transfers it to you. Weakens enemies, strengthens you.

>>6248692
>Hit them with Shadow Leech to restore your own vitality and weaken them, in case they are hostile

>>6248692
>Raise your hands and smile – Maybe showing you’re not a threat will calm them down. Smile. That’s what surface people do, right?

>>6248683 (OP) (OP) #
> Ghost Bolt (Blue) – A shimmering projectile that passes through walls and strikes targets behind cover. Can also be used to trigger distant mechanisms.
> Shadow Leech (Black) – A curse that saps strength from a foe and transfers it to you. Weakens enemies, strengthens you.

>>6248692 #
> Flee back outside – You’ll risk the sun a bit longer if it means avoiding whatever this awkward situation is turning into.

Alright, so we lock in on Ghost Bolt and Shadow Leech.

As for the options

Raise your hands and smile 3
Hit them with shadow leech 2
Use magic gently 1
Flee back outside 3

We got a tie, so you raise your hands and smile then you flee back outside.

Writing...

You raised your hands and flashed your best smile.

It was more of a teeth-baring grimace, really. Like a corpse being polite. But you’d read that surface-dwellers responded to friendliness. The man’s face contorted in horror. The woman shrieked and reached for something under the blanket. A knife? A club? More body fluids?

You took that as your cue to leave.

You bolted out the door, robe flapping, gut still lurching from your recent offerings to the dirt. The sun hit you like a slap from your mother—harsh, hot, and deeply unfair. But you ran anyway, vision blurring, desperate for another building, a cave, a hollow log, anything.

Unfortunately, your noble education didn’t include cross-country training.

After a few desperate minutes, your legs gave up. Your arms followed suit. You crawled for a while, muttering curses and swears in three dialects, until even your tongue gave up. The noon sun bore down on you like a judgment. Your vision flickered. You smelled something like roasting mushrooms—and then nothing at all.

You didn’t expect to wake up.

>>6249321

But you did.

On a bed.

A real one. Stuffed with straw, draped in sheets, a pillow under your head. Which would’ve been nice… if your wrists and ankles hadn’t been tied down.

Your first thought was: They found me. The perverts found me. And now they’re going to do unspeakable things to me. Again and again. Maybe even in groups.

Your second thought was: Ugh. Why is this kind of thing making me blush instead of panic?

You tested the bindings. Sloppy work. Made for some hay-fed brute who didn’t know that every dark elf worth her braids can dislocate her shoulders and bend her fingers backward like noodles. You slipped free with a flex and sat up on the bed, arms folded, mind racing.

Who were your captors? What did they want? Would they actually be hot, or just sweaty and loud like that couple?

Then—footsteps.

Lots of them.

You squeaked and quickly shoved your limbs back into the restraints, slipping them just loosely enough to escape again if needed. Your expression returned to neutral, your breathing slowed. You prepared yourself to meet… the pervert horde.

The door creaked open.

It was them. The couple. And more. One, two… eight humans in total. All staring at you like you were some exotic creature dragged in from the forest. Which, to be fair, you kind of were.

They shared similar features—broad shoulders, light hair, gawky stares. Probably a family. Or maybe humans just… all looked the same, like the tutors said.

What do you do?

> Start fake-crying – Maybe they’ll feel bad and untie you. Bonus points if you whimper in Elvish and bat your eyes.
> Start moaning provocatively – If they tied you up for that, might as well confuse the hell out of them and see what they do.
> Cast a spell dramatically – Slip your hands out and unleash some magic. Blow up a chair. Assert dominance.
> Pretend to faint – Go full ragdoll. Maybe they’ll start discussing what to do with your "lifeless" body and spill some useful info.
> Speak loudly in your own language – Act like they're the weird ones. Point and talk like they should understand you.
> Wait and listen – Say nothing, do nothing. Just observe. Maybe you’ll learn who they are, what they want, and which one is the actual pervert. There’s always at least one.
> Write in

>>6249322
> Wait and listen – Say nothing, do nothing. Just observe. Maybe you’ll learn who they are, what they want, and which one is the actual pervert. There’s always at least one.

>>6249322
> Wait and listen – Say nothing, do nothing. Just observe. Maybe you’ll learn who they are, what they want, and which one is the actual pervert. There’s always at least one.

remember, not everything has to have a reaction

>>6249322
> Start fake-crying – Maybe they’ll feel bad and untie you. Bonus points if you whimper in Elvish and bat your eyes.

>>6249322
> Wait and listen – Say nothing, do nothing. Just observe. Maybe you’ll learn who they are, what they want, and which one is the actual pervert. There’s always at least one.

>>6249322
> Speak loudly in your own language – Act like they're the weird ones. Point and talk like they should understand you.
Freaky sun monkeys.

>>6249322
>Start moaning provocatively – If they tied you up for that, might as well confuse the hell out of them and see what they do.

>>6249322
>Start fake-crying – Maybe they’ll feel bad and untie you. Bonus points if you whimper in Elvish and bat your eyes.

>>6249322
>Wait and listen
don't give horny bait options, some people here actually want to get rapef

>>6249431
Elf-chan is the one that wants to get raped. That's the joke.

>>6249322
>Start fake-crying – Maybe they’ll feel bad and untie you. Bonus points if you whimper in Elvish and bat your eyes.

>>6249322
>Wait and listen – Say nothing, do nothing. Just observe. Maybe you’ll learn who they are, what they want, and which one is the actual pervert. There’s always at least one.

Wait and listen 5
Start fake crying 3
Speak loudly in your own language 1
Start moaning provocatively 1

Wait and listen won!

Writing...

You chose to wait.

No sudden moves. No spells. No sarcastic remarks that might accidentally be fighting words in this strange tongue. Just lie still, listen, and gather information. That’s what your instructors at the Academy would’ve advised. Well, except for the part where you’re tied to a bed and pretending not to be able to slip out at any time.

The eight humans stood around you like you were a particularly confusing tapestry. They kept talking—sometimes one at a time, sometimes all at once. You picked out a few words. Some sounded like names. Others sounded like questions. Their inflection made that part clear, but the actual content?

Gibberish. Fast, breathy gibberish.

Still, here and there, your ears twitched. You did know a few things. The elves had long used a single word for prisoner and slave—after all, what’s the point of capturing someone if not to put them to use? But humans, it seemed, had different words. One of them finally said it—slowly, pointedly:

“You’re… not a prisoner.”

You blinked.

Not a prisoner? That word you knew. It was etched into your culture, into your people’s bones. The idea that someone might take a prisoner and not make them a slave was… absurd. Wasteful. Dangerous. And if they weren’t making you a prisoner-slave, then what?

Did they think you were useless?
Or worse… too ugly to use?

Your ears burned with quiet offense.

>>6249779

Still, you kept nodding. Pleasantly. Like some dainty ambassador of the Under Realms. You bobbed your head up and down every time someone said something and smiled just enough to be non-threatening.

Apparently, this pleased them.

The tall man—probably the father—stepped forward and untied your limbs, muttering something you didn’t catch. The ropes fell away. You could’ve escaped at any time, but there was still something strange in their behavior. No threats. No shouting. No groping hands. They treated you with caution, maybe even concern.

The small human girl, maybe half-grown, returned with a wooden tray. On it: a ceramic cup of water, a chunk of something beige and grainy, and a wad of brownish meat wrapped in a leaf.

You sniffed it. Then gagged.

Surface food. The smell was sour and moldy, like a mushroom that’s been bathing in goat spit. You glared at it, suspicious. It could be poisoned. Or worse—it might just taste that way. Still, the water smelled clean enough. You sipped it.

Bland.

You sighed and twisted your poison ring. A flick of the stone, a drop of venom. It was a light extract—nothing lethal unless taken in large quantities, but it had a pleasant bitterness that reminded you of home. Finally, some flavor.

The girl kept talking. And talking. She sat beside the bed, feet swinging, gesturing wildly as if you were her new favorite pet or captive audience. You nodded occasionally. Smiled. Gave noncommittal sounds.

Hours passed.

Eventually, the sun fell and twilight slipped through the cracks in the wooden shutters. The moon rose again, comforting and cold. You stared at it longingly. Outside—whatever else it might be—was free.

You were starving.

That meat, no matter how awful it smelled, was still untouched. But pride kept your hands in check. You needed food. But not that food. Not their food.

You rose silently from the bed. The family had left you alone in the room. Perhaps they assumed you’d sleep. Perhaps they were just foolish. Either way, now was the time to move. To hunt. To eat.

What do you do?

> Sneak out the window and hunt small animals – You’ve read about rabbits, squirrels, birds… something must be edible. And hopefully dumb.
> Steal some food from their pantry – If they’ve got meat in the house, maybe there’s something better than what they brought you.
> Confront the family and demand real food – In your language, loud and slow. Maybe if you insult their cooking enough, they’ll bring out the good stuff.
> Eat the weird meat anyway – You’re starving. Dignity is less important than survival. Maybe it won’t kill you. Maybe it’ll even grow on you.
> Go outside and forage for mushrooms and roots – You trust fungus more than mammals. At least it’s from underground. Sort of.
> Climb to the roof and meditate under the moonlight – Hunger can wait. The moon speaks to you in ways your people never did. You need to think.
> Write in

>>6249780
>> Eat the weird meat anyway – You’re starving. Dignity is less important than survival. Maybe it won’t kill you. Maybe it’ll even grow on you.

>>6249780
> Sneak out the window and hunt small animals – You’ve read about rabbits, squirrels, birds… something must be edible. And hopefully dumb.

>>6249780
> Eat the weird meat anyway – You’re starving. Dignity is less important than survival. Maybe it won’t kill you. Maybe it’ll even grow on you.
Eat the damn meat

>>6249780
>Eat the weird meat anyway – You’re starving. Dignity is less important than survival. Maybe it won’t kill you. Maybe it’ll even grow on you

>>6249780
> Eat the weird meat anyway – You're starving. Dignity is less important than survival. Maybe it won't kill you. Maybe it'll even grow on you.

>>6249780
> Climb to the roof and meditate under the moonlight – Hunger can wait. The moon speaks to you in ways your people never did. You need to think.

>>6249779
I'm a little confused. Are they speaking our language, or do we understand some of theirs?

>>6249780
Poison as our favourite flavor? Kek. Nice touch.

> Climb to the roof and meditate under the moonlight – Hunger can wait. The moon speaks to you in ways your people never did. You need to think.

>>6250232
I think they are speaking elvish. Makes sense, the exit we used is near them, they must be used to raids.

>>6249780
>Eat the weird meat anyway – You’re starving. Dignity is less important than survival. Maybe it won’t kill you. Maybe it’ll even grow on you.
Meat.

Eat the weird meat 5
Sneak out the window and hunt 1
Climb to the roof and meditate 2

Alright so we gonna eat the weird meat.

Writing...

>>6250248

Hunger gnawed at your stomach like a cave wretch with dull teeth. You glanced at the tray, the awful-smelling meat sitting there like a dare. It was cold now. Greasy. Slimy. But you reached for it anyway, lifting it gingerly between two fingers as though it might bite back.

You sniffed it once more.

Ugh.

And then—against every better instinct, every ounce of pride, and every cultural warning etched into your noble education—you bit into it.

The texture hit you first: soggy, like the meat had been soaking in lukewarm spit. Your teeth sank through it too easily, like it didn’t want to be chewed. It collapsed in your mouth, spreading out with a kind of lazy, oozing compliance, as if it enjoyed being devoured.

And then the taste.

Salty. Overwhelmingly salty. Not the clean mineral taste of cave salt but the pungent, sweaty salt of a body worked too hard for too long. There was something faintly sweet buried beneath it, like some wretched creature trying to seduce you with rotting perfume. You gagged slightly, but forced yourself to keep going.

Each bite squished between your teeth with a wet sigh, leaving your tongue coated in a film so thick it felt like someone had licked you back. The flavor clung, cloying and persistent, coating your throat like shame. You swallowed. It went down slow, squirming, unwilling to part ways.

You hated it.

You ate all of it.

When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, staring at your fingers like they had betrayed you. You wanted to drink more of the water, to feel that lovely bitter poison, but the humans carried the glass away after you were done drinking. You hope they washed it properly.

Then, you opened the window.

The cool night air hit your face and whispered across your skin. You breathed deeply, letting it cleanse your senses. The stars stared down, silent and unknowable. You still weren’t used to them—their flickering vastness, their cold, distant beauty. You felt small under their gaze, as if they knew too much about you.

And then—movement.

A shadow.

Far out beyond the farmhouse, between the trees and the horizon, something moved. You saw it only for a heartbeat. A flicker. A shape that didn’t quite belong. Tall? Thin? Maybe both. And then it was gone.

You blinked. Nothing there.

Had you imagined it? Could be the food. Or the poison. Or the moonlight. Or your nerves.

But no—someone might be out there. Watching. Hiding.

Maybe your family had sent someone. A handler. A watchdog. An executioner. But no, that would imply they actually cared. Those tight-fisted, conniving wretches barely managed to raise the funds to educate you. Ten thousand platinum pieces was all it would’ve taken to pay your fine to the matriarch. A pittance for a noble house.

But no. Instead of paying, they handed you a sarcastic note about “gaining real-world experience.” They threw you to the surface like spoiled meat to dogs.

And for what?

You couldn’t even speak the local language! Couldn’t negotiate. Couldn’t beg even if you wanted to. What did they expect you to do?

Become a roadside illusionist? A hedge wizard?

Slaughter humans and loot their pockets?

Sell your body to weird meat lovers with coin and a fetish for exotic ears?

You scoffed aloud, bitter and burning. You pressed your forehead to the windowframe and whispered a curse in Elvish. The stars gave no answer.

Eventually, you sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed and slipped into meditation.

It wasn’t sleep—dark elves don’t sleep. You floated in stillness, reliving memories, untangling emotions, sharpening the edges of your thoughts like blades. For a few hours, the world faded away. All that remained was you and the hum of the void.

Until—screams.

High. Panicked. From inside the house.

Your eyes snapped open.

You knew that sound. Not the fear in it—the pain. The suffering. You stood, heart pounding. Your hand drifted to your ring.

The poison.

It lingers. Clings to glass. Ceramic. Skin. It doesn’t affect elves, but—

Your eyes widened in horror.

Humans.

They had terrible, fragile bodies. Your poison might be a seasoning to you—but to them? It could kill. Not just a human. Twenty of them. Easily.

You hissed through your teeth. Damn it. You just wanted a snack, not a massacre. Why didn’t they wash the cup?! What kind of dirt-worshipping idiots just reuse poisoned tableware!?

You needed to leave. Now. Before they decided maybe you were a prisoner after all.

You shoved the window fully open and scanned the landscape for options.

What do you see?

> A wagon – Old and rickety, half-loaded with sacks. But it’s moving slowly toward the road, unattended. You might be able to leap aboard and ride it out of here.
> The top of a stone tower – Distant, poking above the treetops like a crooked finger. Probably abandoned. Probably full of rats and ghosts. But it might be safe.
> The woods – Where the shadow moved. It’s dark, tangled, and dangerous. But shadow might be the best cover you’ll get.
> A deep stone well – Half-covered by a rotting plank. No one would look for you down there. And you’ve lived in tighter holes.
> Confront the humans – March out boldly, announce your innocence (in your language), and hope to confuse them with your nobility and charm.
> Pretend nothing happened – Stay in the room, sit on the bed, and look hungry. If they’re still alive, maybe they’ll bring you more weird meat.
> Write in

>>6250284
> The top of a stone tower – Distant, poking above the treetops like a crooked finger. Probably abandoned. Probably full of rats and ghosts. But it might be safe.

>>6250284

> A wagon – Old and rickety, half-loaded with sacks. But it’s moving slowly toward the road, unattended. You might be able to leap aboard and ride it out of here.

>>6250284
> A deep stone well – Half-covered by a rotting plank. No one would look for you down there. And you’ve lived in tighter holes.

If anything, it is like being home. Comforting.

>>6250284
> Confront the humans – March out boldly, announce your innocence (in your language), and hope to confuse them with your nobility and charm.

>>6250319
I'll back this, too, in a pinch. Better than confronting the humans or ending up stranded in the big city.

>>6250284
I'm >>6250296

>>6250296
+1, confronting the humans or staying where we are is a very bad idea. They'll obviously suspect us and we can't trust them anyway, as they're idiots who would reuse poisoned tableware.

>>6250284
> A deep stone well – Half-covered by a rotting plank. No one would look for you down there. And you’ve lived in tighter holes.

>>6250284
>Confront the humans – March out boldly, announce your innocence (in your language), and hope to confuse them with your nobility and charm.

>>6250284
> A deep stone well – Half-covered by a rotting plank. No one would look for you down there. And you’ve lived in tighter holes.

>>6250284
>Confront the humans – March out boldly, announce your innocence (in your language), and hope to confuse them with your nobility and charm.

>>6250284
>> A deep stone well – Half-covered by a rotting plank. No one would look for you down there. And you’ve lived in tighter holes.

>>6250284
> A wagon – Old and rickety, half-loaded with sacks. But it’s moving slowly toward the road, unattended. You might be able to leap aboard and ride it out of here.

The top of a stone tower 2
A wagon 2
A deep stone well 5
Confront the humans 3


Alright, so the deep stone well won!

Writing...

>>6250729
forgot to post QM?

>>6250994
let him cook

>>6250994
>>6250997

I fell asleep before I could finish, and today I've had a very busy day. Sorry, I will have to postpone it to tomorrow.

>>6251140
Hey, don't sweat it QM. After all...

Accidents happen.

We'll never get that headpat at this rate

You don’t hesitate. The deep stone well! That’s your escape.

You dart across the yard, ducking beneath a low fence and vaulting over a pile of rotting firewood. The screams behind you are muffled now, distant. The humans are panicking—but not about you, not yet. That’s good. That’s perfect.

You reach the well.

The covering plank is old and warped, easy to wrench free. You toss it aside, hearing it clatter somewhere behind you, and peer into the dark pit. Cool air drifts upward like a sigh from the underworld. You feel it on your face. It smells faintly of moss, of stone—and of something bitterly familiar.

You leap in.

The stone walls fly past, the air rushing beside your ears. Then—you press your hands and your butt against the sides of the well with practiced precision, your soft soles bracing, fingers splaying, skin scraping rough stone. The friction burns a little, but you slow. You stop.

You begin to descend slowly, methodically, like a spider easing down its own thread.

As you inch your way deeper into the gloom, you sniff again.

The water smells… familiar. Like a childhood memory of lessons and lectures whispered in noble halls. You’ve read about this. The dark elves used to poison human wells—long ago, during the surface raids. A slow-acting sickness that warped the mind and softened the belly. Subtle, elegant. Human settlements would rot from the inside, long before they ever saw a blade.

Could this be one of those? You grin to yourself.

Are humans really that dumb that they never figured out how to unpoison a well?

Whatever. At least there’s water. And water means you won’t die of thirst—yet.

You descend further… and then—

A glimmer.

Something shiny catches your eye near the bottom, half-submerged in the dark water. A gleam of gold? Silver? Maybe even a gemstone? You lean forward, legs braced against the wall, heart racing with sudden greed. Maybe this will all be worth it. Maybe this is a sign.

Then—suddenly—

>>6251747

A skeleton jerks into motion, lunging from beneath the water with a bony rattle.

You flinch, nearly losing your grip, heart hammering. It rises slowly, water cascading off its ribs, dark eye sockets locked on yours with eerie purpose.

It’s not just bones. It’s animated. Twisted by black magic. Old magic.

It claws toward you slowly, scraping against the slick stones, teeth clacking like castanets. It’s not armed—just bare bones and evil intent—but still, if it gets a hold of you, it might leave you scratched, bruised, or worse.

But wait…

The water. It flows.

It’s not stagnant. It’s moving.

There’s a current. Slow, but definite. It’s coming from somewhere. Going somewhere.

There might be a way out. A passage. A tunnel.

You lick your lips.

You're knee-deep in undead, poison water, and probable treasure.

It's going to be a weird day.

What do you do?
> Descend into the water and grab the shiny object. It might be valuable—or magical. You’ll risk the skeleton’s bony hands for a chance at real loot.
> Use your magic to destroy the skeleton. A well-placed spell might shatter its enchantment—or at least reduce it to useless parts.
> Dive into the water and follow the flow. Maybe there's an exit. Maybe there's not. But you won’t know unless you try.
> Try to talk to the skeleton. It’s probably mindless… but you are a magic student. Who knows what kind of enchantment animates it? Maybe it can understand.
> Climb back up. You’ve changed your mind. Wells with undead in them are a bad idea.
> Rip one of your sleeves and make a makeshift rope or leash for the skeleton. If you can bind it, maybe you can tame it. A pet skeleton might be useful later… or at least entertaining.
> Write in

>>6251749
>> Descend into the water and grab the shiny object. It might be valuable—or magical. You’ll risk the skeleton’s bony hands for a chance at real loot.
>> Use your magic to destroy the skeleton. A well-placed spell might shatter its enchantment—or at least reduce it to useless parts.
>> Dive into the water and follow the flow. Maybe there's an exit. Maybe there's not. But you won’t know unless you try.

>>6251749
> Use your magic to destroy the skeleton. A well-placed spell might shatter its enchantment—or at least reduce it to useless parts.
Can we Leech an undead? If so, that might be the easiest fix. Once it's calcium deficient, drop on it and smash it.

>>6251749
> Try to talk to the skeleton. It’s probably mindless… but you are a magic student. Who knows what kind of enchantment animates it? Maybe it can understand.

>>6251750
+1

>>6251749
>Rip one of your sleeves and make a makeshift rope or leash for the skeleton. If you can bind it, maybe you can tame it. A pet skeleton might be useful later… or at least entertaining.

>>6251749
>Rip one of your sleeves and make a makeshift rope or leash for the skeleton. If you can bind it, maybe you can tame it. A pet skeleton might be useful later… or at least entertaining.

>>6251749
> Use your magic to destroy the skeleton. A well-placed spell might shatter its enchantment—or at least reduce it to useless parts.
> Descend into the water and grab the shiny object. It might be valuable—or magical. You’ll risk the skeleton’s bony hands for a chance at real loot.
> Dive into the water and follow the flow. Maybe there's an exit. Maybe there's not. But you won’t know unless you try.

>>6251749
>> Descend into the water and grab the shiny object. It might be valuable—or magical. You’ll risk the skeleton’s bony hands for a chance at real loot.
>> Use your magic to destroy the skeleton. A well-placed spell might shatter its enchantment—or at least reduce it to useless parts.

>>6251749
>Use your magic to destroy the skeleton. A well-placed spell might shatter its enchantment—or at least reduce it to useless parts

QM?

>>6253297
I hope the curse didn't get to him