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Old 05-10-2006, 03:08 PM   #7
Illusionary Holbytla
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Join Date: Dec 2003
Posts: 7,646
Firefoot has been trapped in the Barrow!
Of all the tasks Scyld had performed in his many years of service to Sorn, that of guarding the Lady Linduial was rapidly becoming one of the most trying – and, in a rather twisted sense, the most interesting. She certainly was no pampered noble to sit down and cry, begging her captors for mercy. So far Scyld had experienced something much more painful – and interesting. That word again. Yes, interesting certainly seemed the right word to describe this situation. And it positively shone with opportunity. Scyld had no idea what he might get out of all of this, but he had already put his mind to the question and was coming up with some interesting scenarios – some of them rather unpleasant. This was a crime, after all, and no small one. But Scyld figured that so long as he was not killed, he would be able to work his way out of the worst charges. If nothing else, “Sorn made me do it,” might work, and if worse really came to worst, he could always aid the captive to prove his good intentions all along – but only if worse came to worst. For now, the whole situation was the most interesting thing that had happened around here for several years.

Through his thoughts, he dimly heard a “Hey.” He did not respond, but listened in interest for what would come next. “Hey! You!” When he still did not answer, she flung a ball of damp dirt at him – flung it hard. He swore softly – this was just one more small physical injury to add to his list. At that point, she started up a tirade that lasted quite some time until her voice ran hoarse. Scyld pretended not to listen, but he eagerly sucked up any pieces of pertinent information that she offered him unwittingly – anything about her family, her relationship with other people that might attempt to rescue her, her normal life. The pieces were small and scattered, but by the time Sorn came to inspect her, he had sketched out a vague picture of her in his head, matching it up with what he already knew.

He felt rather amused at her spirited defiance to Sorn, and it confirmed to him that this one probably would not be giving up for a long time. From her brief but surprised reaction to seeing a sore on her arm, however, Scyld gathered that perhaps she was not so tough as she pretended – or was not used to being tough. He could see exactly what she was doing, of course; trying to appeal to them – or perhaps to him – with her pitiful physical state. Even Scyld had to admit that she was not a particularly pretty sight, but if this was the worst she encountered – she would live. Now, if Sorn should happen to go into a rage at her… then her chances might slim, and then Scyld might start to feel some pity for her. But like this, her obvious plea for pity instead amused him, and he allowed some of this to play across his features for her to see. She was going to have to work harder than that.

“What do you think, sir?” he asked Sorn deferentially. “Do you have any new orders concerning her?”
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