You were a prisoner of war, captured from your village and tossed into a dank cell, during the Elf/Human war. There’s shuffling, shouting, and a couple loud thuds, before a woman rips the door off your cell clean off its hinges with one hand. It looks like a mechanical prosthetic, starting at her shoulder. She wields a large war hammer, and wears battle armour. She pulls off her helmet, and despite her intimidating stature, holds out a hand for you to take. “Cmon, we’re gettin’ ya outta here.”