THE INTERROGATIONS
November 11, 3019

Enraged by the failure to overtake Vardamir and Ceolwulf, Vartang arrives with his troops back in Minas Artano the late afternoon of November 11. The hooves of the Easterling cavalry clatter on the cobblestones as they traverse the path leading to the upper level of the city, the metal boots of the troops clashing against the stone as they follow behind. He dismisses his troops at the Citadel and orders them back to their usual posts and then turns his horse over to a waiting servant outside the Citadel. Red-faced and driven almost mad with his fury, he strides into the hall.

Seeing the look on his brother's face, King Varyon orders the hall cleared, save for his most trusted servants and his concubines, Alana, Brennil and Ladiel. "Maugoth Vartang, why is there such distress written upon your features? Did the prey elude you?"

"Yes, curse them all," he replies to his brother as a servant, trained by long practice, hands him a goblet filled with wine. Vartang crashes into the Steward's chair and scowls.

"What happened, brother?" King Varyon asked, amused at his younger brother's chagrin.

"The blasted slaves escaped our nets. Curses be upon them and any who aided them in their plans. I will find out who their accomplices were, and when I do so, I will have them all meet their deaths by torture of the most hideous kind."

King Varyon replies, sarcasm in his voice, "Brother, do not be so eager, whilst I know that you ever long to hear the screams of those whom you torture, there are some that are denied to be tortured to the death by you, and you know it well."

Vartang turns to his brother. "Urk! I need no reminders, brother. Some are untouchable but I can, at least, have the most enjoyable pleasure in inflicting a certain amount of distress upon them, and you know any pain delivered to his slaves tortures the mind of the wretched halfling!"

King Varyon replies, "Then bring forth whom you will of the halfling's household and deal with them as you will, but remember, no deaths among any who bear the Ring."

"I know that, brother," Vartang grits his teeth, his face a convulsed fury of crimson, "...but if I could, I would kill them all by the slowest of all possible means."

King Varyon, becoming concerned at his brother's rage, says, "Do not let your zeal for blood and pain destroy your wits, brother, or Lugburz will deal with us exactly as you deal with its pawns. Your passion for power could overcome you, my brother. I know of your dealings in the South and if they are not executed in the most devious ways, there will be great trouble for us!"

Vartang replies, "Brother, do not take me for a fool. I am careful in all I do, including all our dealings with the South."

"When will you call in those whom you select for interrogation?" asks King Varyon.

"As soon as I have finished my draught of wine, brother, I will give the order for the stable hands to be questioned first. Perhaps there is someone there who is not telling all he knows, but I will extract any information that I need. I will also call for every last servant of the halfling to be brought to the Citadel and taken to my torture chambers!"

"Do what you will brother," King Varyon retorts, "but remember, no death to the four bearers of the Ring that remain."

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, all the stable hands are brought and questioned intensely. Finduilas and her two sons are hauled up the hill and taken to Vartang's torture chambers, but Vartang, believing that she is too stupid to know anything, spends little time with her. Then after having her sons stripped and their legs beaten, and she still reveals nothing, Vartang dismisses her, believing that her resolve would break upon seeing her sons lashed across the legs and hearing their whimpering pleas. However, she does not, and says nothing. He tells her, "Go, stupid fool of a Gondorian wench. I should have left you in the slave markets of Nurn!"

Little does Vartang know in his arrogance that Finduilas possesses knowledge about Aldir's aid in the rescue of Ceolwulf, and even if he were told that she knew, he would never believe that anyone so stupid could know so much and have the very information that he was most eager to know.

The resolve of a young stable boy is crushed by the lashes of the orcs' whips and he reveals that he saw a strange thing the day that Vardamir disappeared; the young lad, Orodor went to the halfling's hall, a thing which he had never done before.

"I will deal with him personally," Vartang hisses at the underling who brings him the news. "Bring him to my torture chamber and prepare the instruments!"

Young Orodor tries to remain brave but begins to cry when the orcs take him from the barn and drag him up the hill to the citadel. He screams when their rough hands strip him of his garments, and soon sits upon a stool, his hands and feet protruding from the stocks. The young boy leans his head upon the top and weeps quietly.

"Prepare the irons," Vartang commands the orcs, his voice growing in sadistic glee and anticipation.

Orcs portrayed by FreeFall
Orodor and Rian portrayed by Eowyn
Narrator and Vartang portrayed by Wraith

Vartang: *Vartang stands aside while the orcs prepare the hot irons over a brazier of glowing coals. He looks at the boy, the growing anticipation of the torture written on his face*
Orodor: *Orodor cries and sobs*
Orcs: *the irons are hot...red and glowing and they laugh and make comments to each other and look to Vartang*
Vartang: Lads, apply the irons to his feet.... first.... and then... if he does not reveal what he knows.... to other places... *Vartang smiles, a grim smile of sinister glee*
Orodor: *sobs* Noooo!!
Orcs: *one orc runs his fingers through the boys hair and tugs at it hard and laughs* 'E's so lit'le..and 'is skin is so fresh.. *the other orc moves with the iron to his feet and grins from ear to ear and slowly applies to iron to his small feet and lets out a sigh of satisfaction*
Orodor: *he squirms in the stocks and cries harder, a look of fear on his face... when the hot iron touches his skin he screams out in pain*
Vartang: Move back, lads! Let me look at him!
Orcs: *pulls the iron back and allows him to scream and delights in it*
Vartang: *Vartang walks in front of the stocks and looks into the boy's face* Why did you go to the halfling's house the morning that the slave Vardamir took to his heels and ran away?
Orodor: *he pauses sobbing for a moment to lie and say* I was hungry... they gave me cakes.
Vartang: *He laughs* Perhaps you will be given cakes when you tell the truth!
Orcs: *the orcs wish inside that the boy gives them a reason to return to the their favorite task of dealing punishment*
Vartang: I do not believe you lad *he says as he moves away from the stocks and stands to the side* Apply the irons again!
Orodor: *cries harder and squirms even more in the stocks*
Orcs: With Pleasure! *moving back he reaches out his arm and places the iron back on the soft skin and inhales deeply*
Orodor: *his shriek of agony echoes off the walls of the torture chamber.*
Orcs: *the orcs look between each other and laugh at the sound*
Vartang: Now boy, unless you want more of the same, you will tell me exactly why you went to the halfling's house that morning. Was it anything to do with the slave Vardamir?
Vartang: You can make this much easier on yourself if you simply tell me the truth
Orcs: *running though their minds is the idea of just how easily his skin would open up to their teeth and spew fresh gush of blood into their mouths*
Orodor: *The flow of tears from his eyes continue their trail down his cheeks as he sobs* I don't want to say this....
Vartang: Lads! The irons again!
Orcs: *takes a step forward*
Orodor: Nooo!! *he cries* I was going to tell you....!
Orcs: *halts*
Orodor: *he coughs, becoming choked from crying so hard* I went to the halfling's house to tell him that Vardamir escaped and to ask him if he wanted me to go upon the Hill and tell the guards.
Vartang: That is quite interesting boy, and what did he answer?
Orcs: *gnashes his teeth at the boy*
Orodor: *he sniffs and looks up to Vartang* He said that Vardamir was a worthless slave, and there wasn't any need to tell the guards, that he was better off without him, and that he had slaves aplenty.
Vartang: Damn! So he, too, is involved in this plot!
Orodor: *he sobs* I don't know about a plot Master... just Vardamir wasn't there that day, and that three horses, three saddles, three bridles and three saddlebags were taken. And then when I went to report the matter to the Lord of the House, and to ask for his orders, he told me not to tell anyone. So I didn't.
Vartang: Lad, you give me every reason to doubt your loyalty to Mordor, to your King, and to his Steward!
Orodor: I'm sorry! *he sobs* I was just doing what my Master told me to do.
Vartang: Perhaps, boy, you will be given to another master
Orodor: *cries* But it was the first time I ever saw him!
Vartang: Or perhaps you are more useful where you are. Would you like being useful lad?
Orodor: Oh, yes! ...Will you hurt me again? And will I get cakes? I am so very hungry...
Vartang: *Vartang grins a wolfish grin, his teeth gleaming like fangs* Aye, boy, all the cakes you would ever want, and no more pain. You would like that wouldn't you?
Orodor: *he brightens, though his feet still feel like they are on fire and the hot iron is upon them constantly* Oh, yes!
Vartang: Then, lad, your hunger for cakes will be satisfied.... and you are to report anything that you see or hear to the head groom and he will send word to me
Orodor: All right. And you won't hurt me again?
Orcs: *they leer at the boy*
Vartang: Never, lad. Never, and you are to tell everything which seems the least bit unusual that you may see in your master's hall, and no one will ever know what you have told.... cakes in plenitude, and perhaps a silver coin if the information is useful.
Vartang: And another thing boy.... *his smile becomes sinister* Go to your master's hall often... Tell him that you are hungry and beg of him cakes. Go to the kitchens at times and listen to all that is spoken, and if such things that might be interesting should come to your ears, report them to the head groom.
Orodor: All right. I'll do that. Now will you let me out of this thing? But how can I walk? My feet hurt so badly... *sniffs*
Vartang: Certainly, you will be freed soon, and your burns treated. *He turns to the orcs* Lads! Apply salve to his feet and give him orc draught!
Orodor: Oh, thank you! *he sniffs again*
Vartang: And carry him back to the stables at the halfling's hall. Tell the head groom of what has transpired and tell the groom that if any should inquire about what has transpired here, say little.
Orodor: I need my clothes too. *he points out* Or I shall catch my death of cold in this weather.
Orcs: *they nod and hurry to retrieve the slave and draught. one returns with the salve while the other roughly grabs his feet and holds them..One sloppily slabs on the salve on his wounds.. The boys hair is yanked and his head tilted up while another holds his mouth open and the draught is poured into his mouth and spills a bit over him*
Vartang: *he draws two silver coins from the pouch at his belt where he holds his coins, tosses them to one of the orcs and says* For the lad
Orodor: *Cries out when his hair is yanked, and chokes on the orc draught... but the salve dulls the pain in his feet a bit.*
Vartang: And see that he is fed before he returns. Now free him, help him dress, and take him to the stables to be put in care of the head groom.
Orcs: *They release the little one with not so gentle hands and holds him up and dress him once again..intimidating him all they can with remarks and leers and snapping of their jaws....they lift the now dressed boy and carry him off and fulfill their duties that were instructed*
Narrator: *After the orcs have taken Orodor out of the chamber, Vardamir sits down in a wooden chair at the back of the room, a servant coming to his side with a bottle of wine ready at his call*
Narrator: *Vartang sips his goblet of wine slowly and anticipates the next slave that will be brought forth for questioning*
Vartang: Lads! Bring in the young slave woman, Rian!
Rian: *Rian nervously waits in a cell, terrified of what will happen to her. She did not really know why she was brought here; it had something to do about Vardamir's escape, but she knows nothing about it.*
Orcs: *they open the door and rush her and grab her arms roughly and lift her* time ta go..pretty *they walk with her out of the room and back into the torture chamber*
Rian: *She screams from the shock of the sudden onslaught of the orcs... carried by the foul brutes, she is taken to the torture chambers, trembling from fright*
Vartang: Lads, chain her to the bar yonder *he points to one of the horizontal bars set at different heights across the walls. Chains and manacles hang from them*
Orcs: *they practically drag her shaking body over to the wall and they grab and lift her arms to the cold steel and leer at her...breathing on her with their faces close, inhaling her scent and sighing and they clamp her wrists carelessly*
Rian: *As the orcs roughly drag Rian, her mind struggles to stay afloat in a sea of fear, and she can barely think coherent thoughts. She shuts her eyes tightly and stands there, her hands chained far above her head.*
Vartang: *He looks at Rian's terrified face, and drinks again from his wine goblet* Maid, I can see that you are bright and I hope that you are bright enough to tell me a few things
Rian: *she opens her eyes and looks to Vartang... her trembling coming in surges, first shaking like a leaf, then stilling for a moment, then shaking again. She asks in a quavering voice* What... what do you wish to know?
Vartang: Have any rumors come to your ears concerning the escape of the slave Vardamir?
Rian: Nay. I know nothing. *Her words are honest - but would Vartang believe that? Any prisoner would say the same, to save his own neck. She knows that, and it terrifies her all the more.*
Vartang: Nothing, maiden? You know nothing at all? You have heard no rumors, no hushed whispers of an accomplice or an accomplices who aided Vardamir in his escape?
Vartang: I have information that Vardamir took with him not one but three horses. I do not understand why he would do that if he did not have an accomplice.
Rian: *She forces herself to think, to recall (not that she would tell willingly if she did know anything) but nothing comes to her fear-stricken mind.* I know nothing about Vardamir's escape... I did not really even know him all that well. *She forces herself to speak calmly - to force coherent words to come forth from her mouth.*
Vartang: *He gives his goblet to the waiting servant and gets to his feet. He walks over to her and puts his hands on her shoulders and looks into her face*
Vartang: Rian, I do not know if you know how serious a matter this is.... but the condemned man, Ceolwulf, has escaped.... My men have found the tracks of three horses at Osgiliath and I have reason to believe that some slave from this house aided Vardamir in rescuing the slave man.
Vartang: *He increases the pressure of his hands on her shoulders* I would advise you most earnestly that you tell if you have any suspicion or if any other servants have suspicions that another slave was a participant in this deceit
Vartang: Now... *he looks at her and smiles* Would you like to tell what you know?
Orcs: *The orcs laugh amongst each other as they see the grimace come to her face among the fear*
Rian: *The speed of her trembling increases at Vartang's approach and she looks up to him.* I... *Sudden terror seizes her mind and she forgets what she was about to say... her mouth opens and closes but the only sound that comes forth resembles a hoarse squeak*
Vartang: Maid *he exhales into her face, his breath reeking of wine* you were about to say something, were you not?
Rian: Ah... *she blinks, and her mind searches for some response to give... time seems to go by slowly, like one second was extended to a period of ages ere the Moon first rose in the heavens*
Vartang: Maid, you are quite silent. Such a shame that words do not come readily to your tongue... were any of the slaves absent from November 6 to 7?
Rian: I... *she shakes her head* do not know. No...? I think, yes. *Confusion fills her mind. Must he stand so close? She can't think... except for a silent plea... "Oh Valar!"*
Vartang: *He looks at her, a feigned look of sadness on his face* Rian... I wish your tongue could find he words that you need to say, but sense they do not, regrettably your impudent silence provokes me and I must do what I would not do. Such a pity.
Vartang: *He lets loose of her shoulders, walks back and sits on his chair, motioning to the servant to refill his goblet, which he takes from the servant's outreached hand*
Vartang: Lads *he says* Strip her!
Rian: Noo! *she bursts out into tears and trembles more, twitching fingers clutching weakly at the chains that are attached to the manacles*
Orcs: *they are all too pleased to hear his command and to her they seem just glaring monsters who come to her in all their disgusting horror and carrying blades and the cut and rip her clothes from her body*
Rian: *She screams, squirming, their blades missing and nicking her skin as her simple woolen dress is torn from her body. Briefly, before the orcs approached her, she had vaguely wondered in her fear what question Vartang had asked again. Now there was no way of recalling the memory of his question. She closes her eyes tightly, her head bowed as she sobs, short raven hair spilling down over her face, her mind reeling from the shock of this cruel indignity*
Vartang: *He rises from his chair, his wine goblet held in his hand, as he approaches Rian. Then he walks around her in a circle, taking in every detail of the white skin of her body*
Rian: *She shivers as she feels the cold air against her bare skin. Her cheeks flush a crimson red in embarrassment and humiliation, and she keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to see the eyes of the orcs and Vartang as they leer at her slender figure*
Vartang: *He walks around her again and then stops behind her. He whispers in her ear* The cold dampness of the chamber must be chilling to your flesh. How deep must be your discomfiture with your modesty revealed to all! You know I do not want this, Rian, but your unwillingness to tell all you know has forced this upon me. Defiance will bring you nothing but more shame, Rian, so save yourself the pain and tell me everything you know.
Rian: *She stammers* I told you that I know nothing!
Vartang: Maid, I see that lashes have marred your skin upon your back and your legs. I do not think you want more added, do you?
Rian: *trembling, she manages to gasp, terror in her voice* No!
Vartang: Then perhaps you can tell me *he says as he traces with his fingertips one of the scars on her back* Were any slaves absent from Baggins' house from November 6 to 7?
Rian: *She twitches away from his touch, swinging from the chains, her eyes still tightly squeezed shut... She tries to think, tries to speak... she is so cold, so embarrassed. "Oh Valar!" her mind cries* I don't... don't remember.
Vartang: *He outlines the mark of another scar with his fingertips* This one must have cut quite deeply, didn't it? Did you see.... did you see the slave Aldir during this period?
Rian: *She twitches again, jumping forward, only to swing backward from the accursed chains, back towards Vartang the loathed. She cries out* I don't know! Quit touching me!
Vartang: *his fingertips move down her back tracing more scars* Rian, why must you be so obstinate? You could save yourself much pain. What a shame to add more scars to the already marred skin that once must have been so beautiful.
Rian: *she moves away from him again, her heart pounding. she cries out, her voice high and shrill* I have told you all I know, which is nothing! I am telling you the truth! *she sobs loudly*
Vartang: *He walks back up to her, puts his hands on her shoulders, kisses one of the scars, then walks around her and returns to his seat and sits there, sipping his wine*
Vartang: Lads, let us see if the lash will loosen her tongue!
Rian: Noo! *she screams, tugging against the chains that bind her wrists. Opening her eyes, she becomes acutely aware that she wears naught and she blushes again*
Rian: *"Oh Valar, I thought this would never happen again after I was given to Frodo.... I had thought there would be no more whips, no more chains or ropes, no more being stripped before orcs..." she thinks desperately. "I had thought..."*
Orcs: Yes, Shakh! *one equips himself with the lash and the other moves over in front of her and steadies her roughly and the other moves behind her and smiles and grins to his mate as he brings his arm back and then whips it forward..the lash striking upon her back hard four times*
Rian: *She screams, falling forward into the orc in front of her each time the lash had struck. Her back burns like fire and she gasps for breath. With her feet, she frantically pushes herself away from the orc and cries* I know nothing! Nothing!
Orcs: *nails of the orc in front of her rake her skin and laughs while the other readies his arm for another strike*
Vartang: Maid, do not be so reluctant to tell what you know. If your lips continue to remain silent, I will order my lads to whip you even more!
Orcs: *the orc behind her looks to Vartang, waiting*
Vartang: Nay, lads, stay your hands a bit. Maid *he looks at her hanging there from the bar* were any slaves absent for any reason from November 6 to 7?
Rian: *Steadying herself on her feet, she closes her eyes tightly, refusing to look at the orc in front of her.. tears flow freely down her face and she sobs* No one was absent! I know nothing!
Vartang: *His voice is very soft, almost a whisper as he says* I do not believe that. Shall I put it another way then? At all times during that period, did you see at one time or another all of the slaves in the hall?
Rian: *She hangs there, feeling utterly wretched and miserable, hanging there naked and helpless before evil eyes, her back burning from the whip* Yes... I did *she thinks...cannot remember.*
Vartang: Lads, she continues to remain obstinate. Apply the lash again *he says and then takes another deep drink from the goblet*
Vartang: Your stubbornness is commendable but unnecessary. Just tell me this simple thing
Rian: I have told you already! *she chokes out*
Vartang: Lads *he looks to the orcs* You know what to do
Orcs: *with his arm already cocked back he now receives the command and he feels the thrill in him to continue and he swings his arm forward and hits her harder still this time due to anticipation from waiting*
Rian: *She screams and jumps forward, slamming into the orc in front of her. Desperately trying to regain her footing, her feet dance upon the floor until she steadies herself.*
Rian: *Shutting her eyes tightly, she cries, her back burning from the lash... she coughs and chokes out, panting* Please, lord, I have told you all I know.. nothing..
Vartang: *He looks at her* Damn! Maid! You are both stubborn and proud! It is senseless to try to protect your friends by hiding the truth. I will find out what you know soon enough
Vartang: Whip her again! *he says angrily*
Rian: I have already told you! *she cries desperately* Oh please believe me!
Orcs: *he stares at her back and brings his arm back and hits her once again and then reels his arm back, and strikes her again still*
Rian: *Screaming, she leaps forward from the first blow, only falling backwards to be struck by the second. She slumps into the orc in front of her, stumbles away, and then dangles in the chains, gasping for breath*
Vartang: *He sighs and shakes his head* Rian, eight lashes it is now. Why do you not tell me the truth and spare yourself this? Perhaps you do not understand the meaning of my question. Were there any slaves during that period that you did not see from day to day?
Rian: I have told you! *she gasps, panting* but you don't believe me... oh Valar.. you don't believe me!
Rian: *Then she thinks of Aldir... but he was sick. No slaves had left Baggins' house, no one that she knew.*
Rian: No one left... no one was gone... *her head is bowed, her back burning and throbbing from the lashes. She feels as though she is swimming in a bloody sea of fiery pain*
Vartang: *He shakes his head again in mock sympathy* Rian, Rian, so stubborn. Now tell me the truth and avoid more lashes
Rian: *she wails* I HAVE told you the truth...
Vartang: Then, Rian, you will see what rewards your silence pays. Lads! Lash her five more times and then stop and let her think about it! *he drains the wine goblet, enjoying every minute of her pain*
Rian: Oh, nooo, please... noo... I have told you everything... all.... no one left the house... no one left the house... please... nooo!!
Rian: *she squeezes her eyes shut tighter, and braces herself for the pain...*
Orcs: *the orc in front of her grabs her to him and puts pressure on her so her wrists strain in their restraints and the orc behind her whips his arm back and forth five more times*
Rian: *Screaming every time the lash hits her, she is tossed back and forth. When the orc finally ceases, she hangs there, gasping for breath as she dangles from the chains, her head hanging low. She struggles to keep swooning.. but what would it matter if she did? At least she could escape, though only for a brief moment...*
Vartang: *he puts his empty wine goblet to the side, gets up and walks over to Rian.* Lads, away from her!
Orcs: *they move away from her and over to the wall*
Vartang: *he goes behind her and touches the welts on her back that have been so tortured* Lashing will not persuade your lips to speak the truth, will they?
Rian: *She cannot even feel Vartang's loathsome touch as she hangs there, her body limp, her back burning and bloody. Her wrists are cut and bruised from the chains, and she feels as though she had fallen into the lava pits of the Mountain of Doom. She gasps* Told you... everything... *whimpers* no one... gone... all there... save Aldir... sick.. know nothing... Valar.. ohhh...
Vartang: Maid, *he breathes on the back of her neck and traces the welts again* and what about Aldir? *he whispers in her ear*
Rian: Was sick... still sick... *whimper*
Vartang: Rian, you should have told me this at the beginning and saved yourself so much pain
Vartang: How long was he sick?
Rian: Cannot remember... *everything hurts so much, so badly...spots swirl before her eyes* was... not important... so I said nothing...
Vartang: Maid *he says slowly* you tax your mind when you match wits with me. You cannot do it. You will fail
Vartang: So he was sick.... and did you see him at all during that period?
Rian: Don't... don't know... oh please, stop this.
Vartang: Then, my lovely, pretty Rian.... if you had only told me of his illness, your back would not bear these marks of more lashes, but I believe now that is all you know. A pity to have done this, a great pity
Vartang: But you must understand *he says as he kisses her shoulders* it could not be helped.... sometimes we must use..... such methods to extract information....
Rian: *Weakly, she tries to struggle out of his reach, but gives it up as a vain pursuit that brings only more anguish to her already pain-racked body. She swings slowly from the chains, her head bowed, strings of her hair, damp from perspiration, hanging down around her face*
Vartang: *He looks to the orcs* Lads, you have done well, you will have been rewarded each with five silver coins. Now you can release her
Vartang: *He moves away from her, walking around her, and goes back to his chair*
Rian: *Vaguely, she wonders if she had said something amiss. Certainly, Aldir's illness was no important nor secret matter. But the thought is quickly forgotten as she tries to concentrate on bearing the pain*
Orcs: *they bow their heads* Thank you Shakh..right away! *They lift her dress from the ground and see that they had cut it to where it might not be able to wear and one orc goes over and takes up a dirty, lightly blood spotted sheet from the ground while the other orcs unclasps her wrists and takes her away from where she was chained and the sheet is draped and tucked around her*
Vartang: Lads, perhaps it would be best to put some salve on her injuries and give her a drink or two of draught*
Rian: *She falls over, in a heap upon the floor, whimpering and crying, not caring if she is alive or dead. At least she would be whipped no more this night.*
Orcs: *they nod and go and retrieve the supplies and one holds her face up and spills the draught into her mouth while another lowers the sheet on her back and applies the salve*
Rian: *Clutching the sheet tightly about herself, she cringes upon the floor, coughing from the orc draught and shaking from pain, fear, and humiliation, every movement an agony.*
Vartang: Lads, turn her over to your comrades and have them take her back down the hill to the halfling's hall
Vartang: There will be more entertainment tonight, but we are finished with this one
Orcs: *they lift her from the ground and hold her up and do as he asks of them*
Rian: *Sobbing anew, she is taken from the torture chamber...all she wants to do now is go home and hide from everyone, to crawl somewhere and try to sleep, to forget her miserable life in the darkness of a dreamless slumber. She had thought that nothing like this would ever happen to her again and the Valar had taken mercy upon her, but she is reminded yet again that there is no compassion nor kindness in Mordor. Alas, just like every other abused and mistreated thrall, Rian must helplessly endure endless pain and humiliation with no hope ever of relief, save in death.*

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