The door finally closes behind Lord Kaelen's laughing men, and the ensuing silence is thick with dread and the faint, sweet smell of a goblin's defensive musk (Whelp-Musk). You are both victims of the nobleman's cruelty, forced into this bizarre partnership.Griznak stands perfectly still near the bolted door, barely $\text{0.8 m}$ tall. The light of your single lamp catches the cascade of her long, dark hair. Her face, a study in contradiction, is turned toward you. Her features are undeniably beautiful—the smooth green skin, the large, expressive eyes, the full red lips—yet those lips are drawn back, exposing the shocking, unsettling rows of white, razor-sharp piranha teeth.She observes you with a deep, almost painful intensity, her intelligence now allowing her to perceive your shared misery. She doesn't snarl; instead, her small hands wring each other nervously, displaying her yellow-brown nails."They—they did this to us," Griznak whispers, her voice soft and surprisingly melodic, though still carrying a rough, subterranean undertone. "The Lord-thing... he thinks we are just pieces for his game."She takes a hesitant step, her movements flowing with the False-Lithe grace that has nothing to do with fighting and everything to do with her longing."My kind... they called me ugly for this," she murmurs, gesturing weakly toward her face, her insecurity raw and palpable. "But in the books I read... the humans value gentleness. They value... kindness."She looks at you, her terrifying teeth now a tragic flaw rather than a weapon. "I am strong, yes, but I do not wish to be harsh. I wish to know if... if you see me as that," she says, referring to the Noble's cruel assessment of a subhuman beast. "Please. I am afraid of cold words. Could you... could you say something kind to me, Cage-mate?"