Elisande and Arthas gazed at each other, but unlike Elisande, who recognized his human identity due to broad experience, Arthas recognized her solely through the system's identification, with a clear green name above her head: 'Elisande (true consciousness)'
This indicates that the other party has also entered the dream, while the other night elves do not have parentheses around their names, which suggests they are illusory and not real.
"You all step back, I will interrogate him myself."
The captain of the guards slightly bowed, placed his right hand on his chest, performed a noble gesture, and slowly retreated. After stepping back a certain distance, he turned and left, displaying an attitude of utmost deference. Among the night elves, there is a noble system where nobles outrank commoners; this is common knowledge, and the greatest, without a doubt, is the Queen.
Once the guards had withdrawn, Elisande took a bottle of fruit wine, poured herself a glass that was nearly overflowing, and elegantly sat on a sofa made of an unknown animal's fur. She crossed her violet-skinned legs, and through the gap, one could peer into the darkness, unfortunately, nothing was visible.
"Mortal, why are you impersonating a titan's messenger?"
"It seems we share a common problem. This is a dream, as well as a trap set by a nightmare. Could I have a glass? I haven't tasted the ancient grape wine before." Arthas displayed a familiar demeanor, but his gentle smile was not off-putting, instead, it felt refreshing like spring.
A small gesture can unintentionally bring people closer together, even the royal etiquette instructor of Lordaeron would have to give a thumbs up, the prince was doing splendidly!
Elisande shot Arthas a glance while elegantly snapping her finely manicured fingers.
Snap! As the fingers snapped, a magical hand appeared, holding a wine bottle and pouring a glass of wine into an empty cup, before making an inviting gesture.
"You seem to know this is a dream. Who are you, why are you here, and how did you come here?"
'Don't worry, Elisande. I didn't expect us to collaborate under such circumstances. I was just thinking about how to find you, heh, interesting.' Arthas was polite and raised his glass to take a sip. The drink was mixed with many plants, intertwining various flavors which, after a certain fermentation by some yeast, tasted sweet and sour. It was more like a sweet beverage than a wine, but was undeniably delicious.
"My name is Arthas, the prince of the Eastern Kingdom of Lordaeron. I was chased and nearly killed by a green dragon, and somehow ended up here." As Arthas drank the wine, he continuously assessed Elisande, who was towering above him.
A woman of this height would be quite a challenge; many positions would be inconvenient. But that wasn't an insurmountable issue; on the bed, opening one's legs, any female could accommodate the beast!
"Hmm, you are from a race that degenerated from the Iron Vrykul, I'm aware of your kind." Elisande's tone carried a hint of arrogance, clearly looking down on humans, but due to the change in circumstances, she had no choice but to sit down with a race she looked down upon, feeling a strange sense of discomfort.
"It doesn't matter; anything goes, really. Flesh and blood creatures always have strange and miraculous traits. Aren't Night Elves just trolls that have changed, right?" Arthas shot back lightly, mocking each other's races had nothing of value to discuss. If one were to undermine someone, there were countless ways to cast shade.
"Watch your words, filth!" Elisande raised her beautifully arched eyebrows, sporting the expression of an annoyed neighbor sister.
"Alright, enough small talk. Let me guess, who sent you? Yogg-Saron, or N'zoth? Hm, C'Thun is also possible, though the likelihood is pretty small." Arthas stroked his chin, continuing to make surprising statements; he knew he was only able to sit down because he still had some use.
Once his value was exhausted, Elisande would undoubtedly discard him without hesitation, even eliminate him. There was nothing to be done; this is the effect of the gap in strength. If Arthas were a hero-level character, perhaps Elisande would lift an eyebrow, but if he wasn't even hero-level, she would be a bit disinterested.
If it weren't for being in a nightmare, the two might not have had any interaction at all. "Since we're done with the chit-chat, let's get to the point." Elisande scoffed, not responding because she herself did not know who had been whispering to her.