You conjure hasty but believable lies for each and every question, taking every opportunity to exaggerate your devotion to King Durian and unfailing allegiance to Rylestia. After an eternity of expertly sadistic tickling over every inch of your helpless body, the dark-haired woman eyes you suspiciously and you do your best to look honest.
With a suddenness that makes you flinch, the woman turns and leaves the cell. Your whole body is still tingling from the onslaught as you hang, achingly, from your chains, bathed in sweat and breathing heavily. The hooded figures glide silently to either side of the cell door and stand there, facing you. You are unable to make out any features beneath the shadow of their cowls, and they stand uncomfortably still and silent.
After some time your interrogator returns and nods to each of the crimson-robed torturers. Swiftly and silently they begin to unlatch your manacles!
"I'm sure you understand the necessity of this process," the woman says.
You nod curtly.
"But we must know every intimate detail of our hirelings. The safety and prosperity of the realm depends on it."
Unchained, you stand sheepishly in the middle of the cell; your apparel and equipment nowhere to be found. Smiling at your plight, the leather-clad woman tosses you a small bundle.
"You will wear this," she says. "Once you are dressed, these sentries will lead you to your quarters."
She exits the cell without another word, leaving you with the two ghostly, red sentries. You unwrap the small bundle, revealing a slight leather harness that fits over your waist and around your thighs, with violet swatches of gauzy cloth hanging from the front and back. It does little to preserve your modesty, but it beats being naked.
You "dress" and look to the sentries who turn and lead you briskly out of the cell.
You walk for a long time through a labyrinth of dismal stone corridors and dungeon cells. Again, you hear the riotous cacophony of hundreds of unseen tortures and interrogations. As you walk, you wonder at the ease with which you were able to withstand the infamous Rylestian interrogation, and you make a point to repay your interrogator in kind, should the opportunity ever arise.
But as you marvel at your luck, you begin to question its true nature. Did the woman really believe your lies? Or is this some elaborate trick? You remain unarmed and you're certainly wearing a strange uniform for a mercenary ... and you definitely don't appear to be headed toward any sort of room you'd want to see!
Maybe this line of work isn't for you and you should escape from the castle with haste! Or maybe you're just being paranoid ...
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