The heavy weight of the magical chains clinked softly as A was pushed forward, his boots crunching against the pristine forest floor of the Elven Empire. The towering trees loomed overhead, their silver leaves whispering faintly as if the forest itself was wary of his presence. Around him, dozens of elves stood tense, their hands hovering near their bows or spell foci, their eyes flickering between fear and curiosity.
A allowed himself a wry grin, playing his part to perfection. Tense little lot, aren't they? He stumbled deliberately, letting his captors tug on the chains. The magical shackles around his wrists glowed faintly, their enchantments sapping any rebellious impulses he might have. Ironic that I designed these blasted things. Can't even bring myself to want to escape. A masterpiece of engineering—and now a bloody nuisance.