Arshalous remained silent. Cold tendrils of fear were choking her, and she was trembling violently as she tried to block out the screams of terror, the scenes of unspeakable horror, the stench of hopeless doom. She closed her eyes, and gasped for breath. The images of the heads of the elven family rose like phantoms in her mind, disappearing and reappearing at will whenever she tried to push them from her memory...
“You have all conspired against me and will suffer the doom of death for that. But your passing can be quick. Tell me where your allies are and I shall order the orcs to place you upon that gallows now where your agony will be brief. Obey me, and this boon I shall grant you. Deny me and I shall give you to the orcs for their playthings. They shall keep you alive for weeks, months…and in the end you will plead for death. And when you do, you shall be brought before me, and I will strip you of your mortal flesh until all that remains is your cold and naked spirit, howling in the wind of my fury.”
The prisoners remained strangely silent, and Arshalous wondered why. However horrific this being was, he deserved an answer, to not answer was half hearted defiance, weakness. If they did not answer they would die with their heads hanging in defeat. A full victory for the...twisted thing of evil who had once been their King. With an effort she raised her head, and stilled her trembling. "We have not conspired against you," she said with some difficulty. Her mouth was dry with fear, lips chaffed with the rising of the wind. "You were blinded with the soft coming of darkness; did not see what we saw, for you were blinded with pretty lies; did not realize what was clearly apparent to us. It was against that which we fought, which we conspired. Not against you, our once Lord King."
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