The captive's name was Minthara Baenre. According to Nastya, she was still a youngster, far too green. If Lolth had not fallen silent and refused to respond, and House Baenre had not suffered such devastating losses in the previous war, they would never have sent such a young, unreliable warrior out to scout.
"How interesting." Nastya folded her arms, the Dark Elf Sister's voice brimming with curiosity. "When I left House Baenre, she was still a little princess. Young, immature, sometimes naïve. Now she's become a paladin of Lolth. It seems you've grown quite a bit while I've been away, Minthara."
"I don't think I'll ever understand what goes through the heads of you Baenres besides spiders, assassination, and politics," Aaron couldn't help remarking. He imitated her, folding his arms as well. "The Whip of Lolth? I like that name. Tell me, Lady Minthara Baenre, what's the situation inside the city?"
"...You'll never make me reveal anything. You may conquer my flesh, but you will never conquer a noble soul dedicated to Lolth! I am Minthara, a daughter of House Baenre!" Lolth's paladin proudly raised her head, her exquisite, valiant features suffused with untouchable arrogance. "Go ahead and defile me with that filthy thing of yours! I'm not afraid!"
Nastya couldn't help snickering beside them.
With goblins and kobolds, it was "No! Help!" With Aaron, it was "Go ahead! I'm not afraid!"
The young woman's fragility and wavering resolve were plain to see.
"She might prove useful. House Baenre doesn't know she's been captured yet," Nastya whispered into Aaron's ear. "Besides, I have a strange feeling. There seems to be a trace of Lolth about her."
"All right, I'll try." Aaron nodded and placed his hand on Minthara's head, threading his fingers into her dirty, tangled silver hair.
Aaron felt