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The elf, of course, has already begun withering away- the geas under her apparently allowing very little latitude or excuses. It seems quite unpleasant, and by the sixth day, she can barely move, merely hanging from her chains. Agonized and infected as she is, you judge her an excellent target for potential conversion. You come to her briefly while she is awake, ribs visible and cheeks hollow. Unable to offer any resistance, she merely watches you as observe her for a moment, then proceed to disjunct the geas on her. Almost immediately, she seems to gain a new vitality, not healing, but blood visibly flushing through her pale body. You watch for a few moments, reading her mind passively. She realizes clearly what you have done, and a torrent of mixed emotions are blazing through her mind. Deciding that perhaps more will be achieved when she is capable of responding, you depart, leaving her with her thoughts.
The paladin, of course, you have something special reserved for. You research on the Binder has lead you across many dead ends, many of which, naturally, are ancient magical empires that are not the one you want. One of them, the ancient magocracy believed to have built Tashz' magical roads, along with being responsible for some of the more interesting geography to the south, side effects of their intermittent wars. One item of note, one of their most terrible punishments; to seal the offender in a golem, allowing them to live out their natural life encased within metal. They, of course, tended to use iron or steel, and hardly went out of their way to make things more unpleasant than such conditions were inherently. You, on the other hand, believe that that is no reason to stop striving for excellence; you believe the gradual shifts in the laws of magic, as well as your resources and fertile imagination, allow for something better. |