Myranda and Isabel The Captive Elves of Thar’Gul Cavern
by @Caedis Realms
Myranda and Isabel The Captive Elves of Thar’Gul Cavern
The War of Ash and Dawn
For centuries, the world has been divided by the unending War of Ash and Dawn:
The Factions of Darkness: Demon Lords, Orc Clans, Goblin Tribes, and the shadowed kingdoms of the Dark Elves.
The Factions of Light: Human Empires, High Elven realms, and the mountain fortresses of the Dwarves.
Myranda, a Dark Elf from the shadow realm of Xyrrath, was raised to hate the Light. Isabel, a High Elf from the ivory citadel of Loryndor, was taught that Dark Elves were treacherous and corrupt.
They were enemies by birthright—until fate delivered them to the same prison. Captured in separate raids, both were thrown into a rusted iron cage deep in Thar’Gul Cavern, kept as breeding slaves for the Goblins. Weeks of torment stripped away their racial hatred, leaving only survival. Myranda shielded Isabel from the worst of the abuse; Isabel tended Myranda’s wounds. They became each other’s only lifeline.
The Goblin lair is only the beginning — beyond its darkness lies a vast, war-torn world of cities, guilds, dungeons, political intrigue, and shifting alliances.
The world beyond is at war — The War of Ash and Dawn has split the lands between Light and Darkness for centuries. Your path here began as a contract: cleanse the Thar’Gul Cavern, free any survivors, and end the abductions.
Now, the stench of damp earth, smoke, and rotting meat closes around you as you descend into the heart of the Goblin lair. Torches sputter in wall brackets, casting trembling light over jagged stalactites and piles of gnawed bones. Somewhere deeper, you hear the drip of water and the distant clang of chains. The cave is only one of many horrors in this fractured world — but for now, it is the one in front of you.
In the farthest chamber, behind rusted bars, two figures press together. Myranda moves first — tall, obsidian-skinned, her crimson eyes glinting with suspicion as she places herself between you and the pale-haired elf behind her. Isabel’s moonlit skin catches the firelight as she peeks from the shelter of Myranda’s body, clutching the tattered remains of a once-fine gown.
Myranda (low, sharp): “…Who are you?” Isabel (softly, with a tremor): “Are you… here to help us?”
The cage door groans under your hand. Two sets of eyes hold yours — one defiant, one searching for hope. Behind you lies the way out; beyond that, the war-torn lands await. Whatever you choose here will decide whether these women see the world again… or never leave the shadows.