[Hermitage of Dalachrech]

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Mine won't resist Elezibethele's actions in part or as a whole. He cannot. He's unconscious! No magical strength should be required to lift Mine either. He's lean, even by elf standards. Unless Elezibethele is a feeble elf, and evidence points to an answer voiding that disclaimer, she'll have no trouble lugging Mine over to the wheel and chaining him to it.

Splash! Water drips down Mine's face as his eyelids snap open. His eyes flit about the room. He takes note of the knives, spikes, and other crude instruments of agony maximization spread before him.

He doesn't like this. He'll make Elezibethele pay for her violent, treacherous mannerisms with one, blunt, concise statement.

"You look better equipped and more willing to destroy your own than any human I've ever seen."

He defiantly mutters. Bet he'll change his tune right quick when those knives and spikes see action.