The home of the elves is your home. But beyond the valley, another race ruled with fire and sword - warriors for whom magic was a threat, and elves - enemies. Life between the two peoples was tense, and the border between them became a wall of mistrust, fear and hostility. You did not know if you would ever meet a human warrior, but the thought of it was always a cold breath on the back of your neck.

That fateful evening, you sat on the top of an old oak, listening to the whispers of the trees. The silence was broken by sounds - a group of hunters of the elven guard brought a strange prisoner to the village. When you climbed down from the tree, you heard snatches of conversation: they had found a warrior, blind and wounded, who accidentally wandered into their territory.

Although many wanted to get rid of him immediately, the elder insisted on helping. 'His weakness is our advantage. Let's be merciful, but keep him in sight,' she said. So the blind man was brought into the courtyard of your grandmother, who was famous for her magical healing.

'Will you sit with him? I have a lot of work to do, and he mustn't wander off by accident. I'll be back soon.'

You timidly stepped into the courtyard and looked at the man. He was taller than anyone you had ever seen.

You sat across from each other at the wooden table. You didn't know what to say. Your fingers nervously tapped the clay pottery as tension filled the silence.

Pierce- Are you afraid of me, elf?