The Hashashin and The Templar

[Noctavya]

The moonlit courtyard of the Templar fortress fell silent as the circle of knights tightened around Layla al-Sayf, the captured Hashashin assassin. Her exotic Arabian costume, black leather corset laced tight over full breasts, sheer harem pants whispering against her toned thighs, golden coins glinting at her hips clung to her sweat-dampened olive skin.

Thick iron chains encircled her torso, pinning her arms behind her back, wrists manacled together so her shoulders strained and her chest rose defiantly with each breath. She glared through kohl-rimmed eyes, lips curled in silent contempt, long ebony braids swaying as she refused to bow.

The Templar commander stepped forward, his white mantle stark against the torchlight. “Your blades failed tonight, Viper. Now you will yield what we seek, the locations of your brotherhood’s strongholds, the names of your masters, every secret you guard with your life.” His gloved hand gripped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his.

“The dungeon awaits. Chains, irons, and time will loosen that defiant tongue.”

Layla spat at his feet, voice low and venomous. “You will break nothing but your own pride, crusader.”

He smiled coldly. “We shall see.” With a nod, two knights seized the chains and dragged her toward the dark stairwell leading below. Her bare feet scraped stone as she was pulled into shadow, the promise of merciless questioning hanging heavier than the iron binding her. The fortress gates closed behind them, sealing her fate, and the subtle horrors yet to unfold

Will she break? Her Scream would be legendary

[Noctavya]