Justice From the Dwarves

Evening is clear and cool, the sky just beginning to lose the brightness of the day, but yet to darken with the coming of night. Here outside the North Gate the land is barren and hilly, and deserted as well, for few Breefolk frequent this rugged country and fewer still when evening approaches. But tonight there is a small gathering of sorts, albeit a somber one.

Just out of sight of the gate itself, around a bend in the ill-kept path and shielded from the town\'s view by both hedge and a small wood, this gathering does not appear to be a happy one. It comprises mostly dwarves, clad in cloaks and hoods, standing assembled without word.

Thari is, of course, among the gathering, dressed in new clothes of dark colors. Despite the hood pulled well-forward on the injured dwarf, it is easy to spot which one is Thari, because there is no beard spilling from the hood\'s opening, and because there is another dwarf on each side holding to the healer.

At first, Cordelia came peacefully with the dwarves, seeming to accept her fate at least grudgingly. But as soon as it became clear that the group was to leave the city itself, the girl suddenly balked, protesting against being brought out to the wilderness--fear now clearly on her face, and some panic, so that the dwarves would have to actually drag her out to this spot.

From among the dwarves comes Frarin, his face stony and grim, limping with his usual gait as he leaves the main of the gathering. Having stood at Thari\'s side during the labourous trip out of Bree, the silver merchant temporarily leaves off the healer, approaching instead the struggling Cordelia.

\"Cordelia,\" says Frarin, voice steady and low, but also with unmasked unhappiness. \"Stop struggling, lass. Do not be so foolish as to think we would do anything more to you than what we have said, and you have agreed to. Let us be done this as soon as we may.\"

The black-bearded dwarf beside Thari grips the healer\'s arm strongly as Frarin departs. The opening in Thari\'s hood turns to follow Frarin, and if seen within the shadows, there is sorrow in the expression within while watching Cordelia.

The woman has struggled fiercly but in vain against the dwarves who had taken up positions on either side of her to keep her from running--each grabbing an arm. Certainly Cordelia doesn\'t have the strength to break free from even one dwarf, but that hasn\'t stopped her from dragging her feet and twisting and just make it annoyingly irritating for the dwarves to get her out this far. Still, as Frarin speaks, she suddenly stops the struggle to stare at him. After all, those are actually the kindest words she has heard from that dwarf in weeks, and they make an impact, breakign through her fear, at least for now. \"You also promised Seeker you wouldn\'t beat me,\" she accuses.

[Frarin(#31050)] \"I did not,\" says Frarin levelly, beholding the woman with that same stony, unreadable look. \"I said that I and the other dwarves would consider your punishment carefully, and we have. You have said yourself that your punishment would have been the same among your own people.\" He pauses, lowering his voice. \"I take no pleasure in condemning a young woman to a beating, Cordelia, but anything less would be a slap on the wrist. And you deserve more than that, as you well know.\"

He steps back, straightening with a gruff frown. \"Are you going to struggle? Or accept what is yours without fight?\"

Ranol stands quietly, a burlap sack held at his side that contains the tools neccessary for the job that\'s fallen to him. He wasn\'t thrilled, but as a rule almost never disagrees with any jobs he\'s assigned. There\'s a silent frown on his face, but it\'s not exactly the kind of situation where joking would be appropriate.

There\'s bitter hatred in Cordelia\'s eyes as she looks at Frarin, and she lifts her chin as she answers him. \"I accept my punishment,\" she says proudly, though her voice is also shaking with fear. She then shakes her arms loose from the two dwarves on each side of her--pulling away from them but making no move to run. \"Let\'s get this over with.\"

Thari has not moved, still leaning against the dwarf beside, still watching Cordelia in silence with hood nearly shielding the healer\'s entire face.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin glowers at Cordelia, returning her bitter look with stony coldness, but no further words does he have for the woman. He steps back from her, turning to face the assembled company of dwarves. \"This woman,\" says Frarin, gesturing towards Cordelia, \"has admitted having a willing hand in the kidnap of our cousin Thari, and has surrendered herself to a punishment chosen by our company. As such, she will be whipped, according to the customs of her people and ours. Let it be so and let this whole affair be finished.\"

He stands aside, not returning to Thari\'s side, but standing alone and brooding. He gestures towards Ranol that the clan-karl may begin the unwelcome task, then crossing his arms over his chest without a word.

Ranol sighs, realizing it\'s time for him to act. Of all the lousy duties. He points to a spot where two trees with low, thick branches are standing. \"Put her there, and tie her wrists to the limbs so she won\'t fall.\" He explains in his soft voice, digging out two lengths of rope from the bag to hand off to the two nearest guards.

Almost as if she knows what to expect, Cordelia starts shaking at Ranol\'s directions to the two guards, her eyes closing briefly as the color drains from her face. She doesn\'t fight, though, letting the guards lead her to the trees and bind her hands.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari\'s body heaves in a sigh. Eyes turn from Cordelia for a moment to move toward Frarin instead.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin appears almost sulky and does not look back towards the other dwarves, or even towards Thari. He watches in complete silence as Cordelia is tied, his eyes flicking from the woman to the ground and back again. Deep shadows line his face.

Ranol pulls out another item from the bag, a thick leather whip. Who knows where the dwarf found -that-? He waits while they tie her, then glances back once at Thari but it\'s only for a moment. The clan-karl doesn\'t want to draw this out and cause Cordelia any more stress than she already has.

Ranol steps towards the captive and slowly uncoils the whip, a blank expression on his face. \"One.\" He announces in a raised voice, then swings the lash to strike at Cordelia\'s dress-covered back. The fabric may absorb a small bit, at least.

There\'s a slight nod from the young woman as Ranol announces the first strike, as if she is grateful, at least, for being able to prepare for it. Her eyes close tight--though she is facing away from the dwarves--and she flinches when the whip hits, but doesn\'t cry out.

[Thari(#31038)] Thari does meet Ranol\'s glance, but little can be read in those wide eyes for now. There is no real reaction as the first strike hits Cordelia, though the healer\'s hand does tighten slightly on the arm of the dwarf beside.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin\'s expression barely changes when the first strike hits Cordelia\'s back, but then, his face is already quite grim and sulky. A muscle just beneath his right eye twitches ever so slightly as the rope makes contact, but otherwise he is still. His eyes never leave Ranol and Cordelia.

[Ranol(#26812)] \"Two.\" Ranol announces in the same solemn tone, trying to keep as level and impassive a voice as possible. He isn\'t hitting her as hard as he can, not believing in barbarism, but he isn\'t going overly light either. Thari wanted this and he doesn\'t want her to be disappointed. He does his best to keep the second strike with the whip as even as the first, so that none are better or worse than the last.

The second strike probably hurts more, as the girl gasps this time. It\'s obvious that she is trying to not scream, her teeth clenched tightly.

Ranol continues, allowing a few moments between each lash for Cordelia to catch her breath. He manages to keep his feelings out of the punishment, burying them as he keeps his thoughts focused only on the task. He states the count prior to each as well and avoids looking at anyone around him.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari is steadier after the first strike landed. The little dwarf actually is standing taller on the one leg, head raised, eyes level on Cordelia.

Indeed, as the shadows darken, all of the dwarves are quiet. The only sound is that of Ranol\'s whip and the cracks against Cordelia\'s flesh.

The girl\'s attempt to not scream doesn\'t last much beyond the third lash. By then, dark blood stains the back of her shirt, and the whip elicits a loud sob from her as it hits. By the fourth and fifth hits, she is screaming and gasping sobs, begging for mercy in between the lashes. By the sixth, she can no longer stand, the ropes on her hands supporting her. And, mercifully, by the seventh lash she has passed out, her back a bloody mess.

Ranol doesn\'t ask if he should wait for her to be revived for the last of the punishment. He\'s makes a small executive decision and finishes the job to spare her any more. When it\'s done the dwarf digs into the bag and pulls out a heavy brown cloak. He moves forward to drape it over Cordelia\'s limp form, then looks over towards the two dwarves that tied her. \"Cut the bindings and see that someone bandages the wounds.\"

The clan-karl then pulls a small towel from the sack and carefully wipes the blood from the whip. It seems that Ranol prepared for that outcome.

There\'s no response at all from Cordelia as the two dwarves cut her down from the ropes.

[Thari(#31038)]

At the mention of healing, some of the dwarves give a glance toward Thari. \"Oh, help me over there,\" says the injured dwarf with a brisk and disgusted tone after a moment. \"Don\'t want the lass dead. Someone needs to do her wrist, too.\" She is helped toward the unconcious woman.

[Ranol(#26812)] \"What did you want done with her wrist, specifically?\" Ranol asks, coiling up the whip and carefully tucking it back into the sack. He moves over to where they\'re holding Cordelia, checking to make sure the woman is still breathing.

The woman still breathes, but it\'s shallow breaths, her pulse rapid and her face ashen. She\'s not conscious.

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari is lowered toward the ground beside Cordelia. Someone drops bandages near her and the healer pulls the cloak off of Cordelia\'s back. \"The rune for \"k\" scarred onto the back of her wrist. To remember the khazad. With any luck, she knows her letters.\" Thari is brisk and firm as she speaks, almost as she was before this whole business started.

Water is poured into Cordelia\'s wounds, washing away the blood as much as possible, and then Thari takes a salve out of her pouch to press into the welts.

[Ranol(#26812)] \"I will wait until she is breathing more strongly.\" Ranol says, moving to collect a lantern that a dwarf is holding. He walks back with it and pulls a slim dirk from a sheath, something he borrowed from someone earlier. He holds the blade to the flame, heating the metal while he watches Thari bind up the wounds.

The girl half regains consciousness, shuddering as the water is poured onto the fresh wounds. As the blood is cleared from her back, careful observation would reveal old wounds there--healed likely years ago, the crisscross scars from whippings. Also there are a few other healed wounds that look as if her flesh was seared as if branded, though there is no brand in place.

[Thari(#31038)] Thari no doubt sees this while rubbing the salve into the wounds, neither gentle nor harsh in treatment of the woman. Thick pads are made of bandages, which are then set upon Cordelia\'s back. \"Lift her, Dwon,\" comes a quick instruction, and a dwarf bends down to reach for Cordelia\'s torso, to lift her from beneath her arms.

There\'s still no response from Cordelia at this point, as she is still passed out, but there\'s more color back in her face and her breathing is not as shallow.

[Ranol(#26812)] \"Hold her hand flat and I\'ll see it done.\" Ranol says, carefully twisting the dirk in the flame. He kneels down when the dwarf does as the clan-karl asks. Ranol begins applying the brand, using a gentle touch to press the metal against her skin. It\'s a dull blade, chosen as such so that it won\'t cut her flesh.

It\'s a good thing there is a dwarf holding the girl\'s hand down--the sudden pain from the brand revives her, her eyes flying open as she screams suddenly and tries to twist away from the pain.

Cordelia is surrounded by dwarves. One holds her torso up for Thari\'s work, another stretches her arm out for Ranol\'s gruesome work. Both tighten their hands as she suddenly struggles, bearing their strength to keep her still.Thari\'s nostrils flare at the scent of burning skin. The healer begins to tightly wrap the bandages around Cordelia\'s struggling torso, but suddenly other hands are lifting the injured dwarf away. \"Thari, she\'ll kick you,\" says a deep voice. Another pair of hands takes over the work with the bandages.

Ranol furrows his brows, concentrating on the task to avoid making a mistake. His teeth are clenched and he does his best to avoid breathing in the burning stench. He only pauses once to reheat the blade, then finishes up, standing and backing away. The dirk is cleaned and the clan-karl resheathes it after handing the lantern back to it\'s owner.

Ranol is no expert in calligraphy, but the rune is clear enough for any that can read it to see.

Unable to get away or even struggle, Cordelia screams over and over again, sometimes pleading wildly with words that don\'t seem to be from any language at all--her eyes glassy or otherwise screaming raw animal sounds that rip through the otherwise quiet night. The screams gradually give way to sobs and incoherent babbling as Ranol finishes his work. The girl seems to be pleading something over and over again, but her words aren\'t clear. And possibly not in the common language.

[Thari(#31038)] Thari leans against one of the other dwarves-- not Frarin, a fact possibly noticed by the rest of the company-- and watches Cordelia\'s struggles with lips peeled back from the teeth and breath quickening as in agitation or anger. \"Cordelia!\" says Thari firmly. \"Khazad is the proper name for dwarves, and if you don\' t know your letters, that rune in your wrist the letter for the Khazad. Don\'t forget us.\"

It\'s not likely that Thari\'s words register with the young woman: a type of madness seems to have overtaken her, her sobs alternating with incoherent babbling and pleading, her eyes wild and not focused even as she turns to stare at Thari. \"-Logathig- I will kill you and yours. I swear it as a holy oath to the dark lord, above and beyond all other oaths I have taken. I will rip the guts from your body inch by inch, I will make a braid of your intestines, I will pursue you and yours and all that support you across the ends of this world to my dying day.\" Her breath is raw, ragged, fast--and that particular series of babble is said between gulps for air and great sobs. Then she laughs.

Ranol will help Thari finish up if she needs it, then he helps them haul up the woman to begin the trek back to the Pony, making sure that the cloak he brought for her is wrapped securely around her. The clan-karl isn\'t in the business of rubbing salt in wounds, and no Breelander needs to see what happened to Cordelia by chance.

The girl makes a fuss--worse than when she balked as the dwarves brought her out here, though in this case, it\'s obvious she\'s not in her right mind. She\'s crying and laughing and then shuddering in pain all in turn, words again coming from her that make no sense, though half are in the common tongue. Her reaction to this punishment, in fact, seems far worse than it should be, for those that would know such things. The journey back into town might be very difficult given these circumstances--except that it\'s not long until Cordelia loses consciousness again, her eyes rolling up as she does so. She remains that way for the rest of the night--lucky for the dwarves.