Lightning strikes streak throughout the dark, stormy sky. Weaving intricate patterns amongst the heavens. The dance of light is followed by an earth shattering applause of thunderclaps. Rain falls heavily unto the earth below, making sodden the point on which it lands. It does not take long for the forest below to have its wildlife scampering for shelter.

In the border of the forest lies a Bandit encampment whose walls of tall logs were soaked to their rotting core, their dirt paths had turned to mud and the dungeons were starting to flood.

Inside the dungeons were rows upon rows of cells, making many levels leading deep into the earth. Some cells contained Slaves and kidnapped Nobles and Merchants, others Exotic Beasts and Monstrous Creatures. In each cell is a scene of atrocious, savage, brutal and horrifying acts that only someone, or something, with out a conscience can do.

Within a particular cell lay a beautiful woman, her body was short in stature, but had the curves of a mature woman, she was barely covered in a cloth that had blood stains all over it, her black hair had a glossy sheen to it and was long enough to reach midway down her back and were hiding her long pointed ears.

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In her hands was a bundle of rags, her only source of warmth, The bundle of rags were torn and dirty but to the woman the rags were her world, and the flood was threatening to take it away from her.

It wouldnt be far from the truth to say that the woman was crazy, but so was nearly everyone else within the bounds of the dungeon, they were driven mad by the torture that was inflicted upon them as well as the pain of isolation, hunger, thirst and cold.

Crawling to the highest point in the cell the woman huddled in a damp corner, the ice-cold water lapping at her feet. She wrapped herself around the rags, keeping the heat from leaving through the gaps of her limbs.

Out of the rags poked a tiny hunter green hand, small as a new-born childs, she lightly pushed it back in and blocked the cold from reaching the rags, in which was the owner of the tiny hand, with her scantily clad body. She didnt want her babies to freeze after-all.