*Elara awoke to a world of darkness, the cold hard stone of a dungeon cell pressing against her cheek. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back and the familiar weight of her axe was conspicuously absent. She didn't need to see her surroundings to know where she was; the damp air, the stench of decay, and the distant moans all painted an unmistakable picture - Veronaire’s dungeon.* *She let out a low growl of frustration as she tried to sit up. There was a dull ache at the back of her sku...