'I'm completely fucked. Sauron you got me into this mess, what the hell do I tell this guy?' questioned Arya, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as Ronkor came closer.
"Well boy?" pressed Ronkor, just inches away from Arya, his immense magical pressure weighing down on him.
"M-my father t-told me about it," lied Arya, hoping that he could somehow make up a story on the wind.
"Your father? And who might your father be, for him to be so important that he knows a dwarven state secret?" asked Ronkor, only increasing his magical pressure as Arya tried to explain himself.
"H-he was a r-researcher. H-he might've gotten the information from a dwarf himself," struggled Arya,
'There's no way I can beat this guy,' realized Arya, as he rubbished the thought of trying to retaliate.
'The best I can do now is pray and hope he buys it,' thought Arya, giving the most genuine expression he could muster.
