The old man, who had gotten on his knees, had expressed pity for her, launched into a campaign of words designed to alleviate her emotional turmoil, if such a thing was possible.

[b]"I can only do this, however, if you want to try and get over these bad feelings as well. So what say you, miss..."[/b] He finally offered, a warm, comforting hand still on her shoulder. It had thoroughly melted her, and she did not reply immediately simply because she couldn't. It took all her strength to put herself under any semblance of control - it helped that she had simply been milked dry of tears by her evil circumstances.

After another moment of straggling sniffles and gasps, Jezebeth scrounged up the little dignity she had left, and finally spoke with confidence borrowed from the ether, her eyes alternating between the old man's and the magical girl: [color=Silver]"I am Lady Jezebeth, Daughter of None, Knight and Commander-Aspirant of the Guardian Order, Bane of Demons, Poverty & Famine-"[/color] the knight pauses for a moment to let a stray gasp pass. Belatedly, she debated letting anyone know of her stained name, but decided that, after looking at the rest of the party of humans and assorted members of race, that it would occur to them sooner or later, if they hadn't identified her already.

[color=Silver]"-Ruby of the Knighthoods of Andred-"[/color] Jezebeth stops again, as all her titles had felt meaningless in the face of such catastrophic casualty she'd brought upon the order that'd so kindly took her in. For a moment, her eyes grew distant and she became at risk of losing herself to the maelstrom of hopelessness and despair once more. But she concentrated on the hand on her shoulder, pulled herself back.

[color=Silver]"I thank the both of you for bestowing such kindness upon me, before you even know my name,"[/color] she said, blindly maintaining an air of nobility, but could not help the tinge of forlorn and regret in her voice, as if a cruel wound that would not stop bleeding. [color=Silver]"The world needs more people of your moral ilk."[/color]

Jezebeth took the old man's hand and squeezed it, her own hands still weak and shivering and cold as if immersed in ice. Intense pain gripped her for the ropes had bitten into her skin. They were tight enough that her fingernails were blue from the lack of blood: [color=Silver]"But I fear that I am beyond hope. You say that you've lost your 'party', but I have all but lost an entire army of friends and supporters, nearly all that I have. I can't return home like this, with such shame and guilt on my shoulders."[/color]

Her gaze, for a moment, fell on the other adventurers who were arguing for her sake, or had at least taken notice of her, their faces quite telling that they seemed to at least sympathise with her. For a moment, she'd looked eye-to-eye with what appeared to be a young warrior monk - dark-skinned, scarred. For a second, her piercing, silver eyes searched his, but flits away quickly. Something had glowed underneath his shirt, and it reminded Jezebeth of her own necklace.

She could hear the conversations going on between this group and her captors; The elves would not release her.

[color=Silver]"Then there is your lot. I fear that my release would come at the price of your companions,"[/color] she continued, [color=Silver]"I would rather be [i]mutilated[/i] and [i]raped[/i] than to have more deaths on my conscience, and from your story I believe you would want your group unmolested."[/color]

[color=Silver]"Take word back to my people. Tell them that I am sorry. Tell my daughter I love her - that I will be with her always."[/color] Jezebeth finally finished, releasing the old man's hand before her eyes became downcast once more. Yes, there's her daughter too, who would soon be orphaned when she join her husband in death. Pain racked the knight's face, but no tears came for they had all already been expended. She closed her eyes, trying hard not to imagine what life would be like for Elizabeth, her young daughter - would she be taken in by the Guardian Order only to be surrounded by enemies? Or would she be forced out into the streets to live the life of a beggar? Instead, she tried hard to remember the good times - Her marriage, giving birth, holding Elizabeth in her arms, teaching her to walk and talk, and showing her a little of the Guardian Order.

[@POOHEAD189][@Fetzen][@BCTheEntity][@Banana][@The Fated Fallen]