Chapter 1: The Prophesy

As the Elf rattles off his introduction, Frieda starts waving her hand in a "speed it up" motion. Yeah, yeah, got it. Your name is Sal. She points her thumb at herself. Frieda. Let's start fucking up some slavers, Sal!

Frieda squints up at Sal. Why do I have the feeling the next words out of your mouth are going to piss me off?

Frieda narrows her eyes. Yeah, I knew you were going to piss me off. She stares at the Elf for a moment. So how, exactly, will you get me inside. And what, exactly, do you mean by "inside"?

Goddammit. Freida eyes the Elf suspiciously. How do I know I can trust you? You could just be a bunch of assholes who set this whole thing up to catch troublemakers. Find people who don't like what's going on and trick them into walking themselves into slavery. She sighs. Let me ask you this, if I pose as a slave, what then? How does putting myself in the same position as the people who can't even free themselves help anyone?

"Do we look for the elve now ?" Dara asks as he adjust the load to carry it as best he can.

Frieda laughs. Thats-- that's it? Just encourage them to rebel? She puts her hands in front of her, palms up, and makes a pushing motion. Just give them a little push, is that it? And get myself beaten to death in the process, right? Aren't these slaves shackled? How are they going to get anywhere when they're chained down? And what are you going to be doing in the meantime? Resting comfortably with your thumb up your ass? Frieda shakes her head. Look, I sympathize here, but I got my own problems. I don't owe you people anything, and you don't owe me anything. I just need to get to the other side of this wretched city and head on to the mountains. I can't get involved in this.

Frieda snorts derisively. That's your sales pitch? Get me down here, hold a knife to my throat, then crumble at the slightest resistance while tossing off some passive-aggressive bullshit about other people suffering? Sounds like you need a publicist more than a revolution.

She crosses her arms, equal measures amused and angered at the Elf's behavior. First, don't presume you know a fucking thing about me and what I've been through. Second, what did you expect me to do? Jump up and down and beg to be thrown in shackles? You've given me nothing to believe you even have anything in the way of a plan beyond—she adopts a deeper male voice, not without a certain amount of mocking in the tone—"Hey, why don't you become a slave and incite the other slaves to rebel because it never occurred to any of the other slaves that if they bitched enough about their lot in life maybe everyone would decide to quit at the same time."

Frieda returns to her own voice and continues. I just busted out of shackles. Twice! And now you want me to jump right back into them? I've got my own mission. And you haven't really given me a lot of confidence that you are actually going to be able to do a damn thing to help the slaves in this town.

Corelief says to him, Can see to things after I get all my supplies and. He glances back to female slave Do some stuff about how she looks. Corelief still thinking about a shower and clothing for her.

Frieda shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head. As she heads back up to the temple, she mutters, Fucking elves. Buncha moody bastard.