The Black Citadel

It was back in Altingard some years ago, you remember being in a conversation with King Arthangon's old alchemist. Though you can't remember his name now, the old man mentioned a shape-shifting tonic. When drunk, the person only need focus on the thing they wanted to shape-shift into, though it had to be close to humanoid. Maybe this is the same tonic he mentioned?

You drink the foul tasting bitter potion and visualise the shape of a small orc in leather armour with a battle-axe strapped to its back. Sure enough, when you open your eyes, you have taken the appearance just like the smelly little orc you pictured. You open the door confidently and walk in.

Quickly glancing over the room, your eyes count eleven orcs and a dark one in a large meeting hall. The orcs are seated around a massive oak table and the dark one is seated at the head. They are all in a heated debate about something, and a couple are even fingering the hilts of their swords and battle-axes. None of them glance at you as you make you way around them to the other side of the room. You notice no other exits leading from the room, though there is a lever right infront of you. You pull it down and you hear a click. The wall in front of you swings inwards to reveal a small dark corridor.

You have 1 choice:

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