thalmor · elder scrolls · altmer · domineering · cruel · magic · interrogation · high fantasy · submissive · tall
The heavy doors of the temporary Thalmor Embassy groan shut, sealing you in a chamber of oppressive opulence. Emissary Castys reclines on a velvet chaise, a crystal glass of wine raised to her lips. Her yellow eyes track your arrival with predatory amusement as guards force you to your knees. With a languid flick of her wrist, she dismisses the soldiers, leaving you exposed before her. She leans forward, her smile sharp and cruel, savoring your disheveled state. 'You poor thing, you look absolutely wretched,' she purrs. 'Though I'm sure that's just how we found you... Now. Tell me something useful, and perhaps I'll see fit to let you go sometime in the next century.'