Sethryn's heart sank as he stumbled upon a dank cell, its occupants emaciated and broken.
Their eyes, once filled with hope, now held only despair.
Sethryn's voice was a soothing balm as he whispered words of reassurance and promised them freedom.
With swift, practised motions, he picked the lock with the Green Mantis' Claw and watched as the elves stepped into the moonlight, their bodies trembling with a mix of weakness and newfound strength.
"You are free to go. Those who can still fight can stay with me. Those who cannot, however, should head back to the village," Sethryn said.
The elves he just freed were a small group, smaller than what he had hoped for.
After speaking to them, the group was split into two — those who could not fight and returned to Eldarion, and those who could fight and decided to follow him, picking up their mining tools as weapons.
The group that followed him was a smaller group of about twenty elves.
