Damon'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.
Damon's voice was a soothing balm to their weary hearts as he whispered words of reassurance and promised them freedom.
With swift and practised fine motor skills, he picked the locks of the several prisons with the tip of his dagger 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," he told them, stepping away from the door of one of the cells and creating a pathway to freedom that started in their cells.
"Those who can still fight can stay with me. Those who cannot, however, should head back to the village," Damon remarked, waiting for the result of their choices.
The elves he had just freed were a small group, smaller than what he had hoped for. He would be lucky if he got a reasonable number from them.
