After Bloatflies, Horrors, and Satyrs, the pithy little man in his mask is of little concern to you. You hoist the kneeling woman up and walk her free of her master.

"Wh-what are you doing? That's mine!"

There is only one way out, through a squad of chain-clad men with spears. Not a problem for you, but with little room to maneuver you might not get out of this unharmed.

Only a few of them have to die before the rest lose their courage and scatter. The master, clearly stunned by what is happening, stands alone. You make eye contact with him and what he sees there makes him bolt too. You fix the slave's shattered arm to a splint. The woman's silence says more again about her past - still unable to look up at you.

"Th-Thank you," she says. "Polus. That is my name."