Haradwaith - The Lands of Harad

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen

"Darn cheat! You are no better than any of these Umbarians!" Pele yelled back at Di'rok. Her anger threatened to simmer over, and she let it out by throwing the hatchet at the door with much might. However, the thing only seemed to prove that it was indeed not sharp as it rebounded from the door and made Pele jump slightly to avoid it landing on her toes. At any rate, it was clear that there was not much she could say or do to persuade him to let her out, not since she was of no mind to humiliate herself to such a level as to agree to his advances or resort to plain begging. That she would not do.

Eventually, Pele decided that she would rest as much as she could, and thoroughly go through the man's supplies to see what she could use of it all to assist herself in making a stand. She realised that she would have to get out of the wagon sooner or later, in one way or another. She would surely prefer to do so fighting unless by some wonder a reasonable person would open the door, the latter seemed to be a rather impossible option in this region.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

He ignored the yells from inside the wagon. He'd heard worse. Screams, threats, crying for help... He was fairly immune to it, and only cared when traveling through an area where those cries might actually be heeded. Here, there was practically no chance of it. With the city of Umbar only a day or two away, he had no worries about some rescuer coming along to liberate her.

Several hours passed before he stopped again. It was nearly dark by then, and he first checked the door, and once satisfied of its security, he took care of the horses. His next task was to scrounge up some food. He was stopping in one of the places he had previously stopped. There was a cactus nearby, which he had already cut into before, but he had left enough for in case he stopped here again. Which he had.

As he neared the cactus, he stopped when he noticed a desert rabbit crouched near some scraggly tufts of grass, nibbling on the sparse food. He smiled, easing a few steps nearer. Pulling out his knife, he paused briefly before throwing it swiftly. Soon he returned to the campfire with some good-sized chunks of cactus, with the spines carefully cut off, and brought them back to cook over a campfire with the rabbit. Despite the lack of proper seasonings, he had a few herbs left in his supplies, and soon the smell of roast meat was rising into the air. He wondered whether she would ask for some.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen

Pele ended up resting for most of the time, as much as she could; even though she constantly kept looking for a way to get out, she did not waste any effort on something that would not bring desired results. Any tools that she could see in Di'rok's supplies were not sufficient to pry open the door, and she did not have enough strength to break it down by kicking at it.

They had once again rolled to a stop, and Pele looked out through the window at the darkening surroundings which told her nothing of their whereabouts. Being unfamiliar with the layout of this land, she was not sure where he was taking her.

With a sigh, she sat back down again, back against one of the walls, and pulled up her knees. After some time a scent of roasting meat wafted in and teased her nose. Her stomach rumbled in response, but Pele ignored it, she would not humiliate herself to ask Di'rok to share, not after his treacherous actions. Resting her head on the arms crossed on her knees, the Gondorian focused on daydreaming of what she would do once she got back home.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

He had rather expected the woman to make some request for food, but was both surprised, and disappointed, when she did nothing of the sort. Then again, he thought with a vague smile of amusement, maybe she figured that it would only come with more strings attached. Which, it would have. He'd intended to demand that she relinquish any and all weapons she had gathered from his wagon, before he would pass on any food. But she was more stubborn than he had anticipated, it seemed.

When he heard no such requests for food, Di'rok shrugged to himself and finished off the entire meal. It was a small rabbit, so splitting it up would have meant he wouldn't get a filling meal. Once he had finished it off, he put out the fire and went over to check on the door of the wagon again. "Not hungry?" he asked the prisoner, as he would now refer to her. "Maybe you'll have a better appetite by tomorrow?" He asked, with a bit of a smirk, as he stopped before the small window.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen

When he came to talk to her again, Pele huffed in indignation; did he assume she would simply buckle before him and go begging?

"Don't worry, I'm used to going without food for long periods of time," she retorted with no small amount of pride, and it was quite true. Relic had not exactly been hospitable to her, and she had somehow managed to survive mostly on what Niera had smuggled to her. Perhaps it was truly nothing to be proud of since simple survival it had been, and she had ended up only worsening her own condition. Yet... she thought she would do the same thing all over again.

"I suppose it can't be helped much since you are such a stingy miser," she sniped at him, as she continued to stare at the ceiling from her prone position on the bedroll.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

Di'rok shrugged, unbothered by her response. He really didn't care what sort of opinion she had of him; it didn't matter. "Sleep well then." He replied, double checking the security of the door before he laid down to sleep. Thankfully, he'd had a blanket tucked away under his seat for emergencies like this, and so that made his night a tiny bit more comfortable. But he was used to traveling in less pleasant circumstances, so it wasn't too bad for him.

When morning came, he rose and quietly checked the door again before sitting down to eat a small breakfast of the fleshy part of the cactus, after trimming off the spines. After he was done, he cut another piece out of the plant. It was nearly gone now, so he figured he might as well give her a little something, else she might be too weak to be of interest to any prospective buyers, by the time he arrived. He knocked against the outside of the wagon, next to the window, so as to wake her if she wasn't already awake.

"Here, you're in luck." He held up the chunk of cactus so that she could take it. "I suppose it'll get hot in there during the daytime. The juice in that should help keep you hydrated enough not to pass out from the heat."

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen

Along with hunger grew Pele's determination to fight, as well as her anger at not being able to make a proper escape - and that she had fallen for that smooth tongue of Di'rok's. She no longer said anything to him unless absolutely necessary, as her anger only grew.

She ended up growling something at him when he knocked against the wall in the morning, yet she stood and reached for the offered cactus.

"Thanks for the same," she grumbled and held back several threats that were on the tip of her tongue and wanted out. However, Pele was very well aware that all those threats would be empty. She was locked and could not get out, or at least she could not see any viable options at present. So what was the use of threatening Di'rok... only to have him laugh at her.

The empty feeling in her stomach demanded to devour the whole piece of cactus all at once, yet she knew that it might as well be the only thing she'd get all day long so she'd have to make sure to live on it as long as possible. Sitting back down again, she slowly nibbled on the corner of the cactus to get at least some nourishment.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

The wagon started out again, rolling across the uneven desert. Many times, the things inside the wagon would have been jostled around pretty harshly if they weren't secured down. On and on they traveled. The sun beat down on the roof of the wagon, streaming in through the window, unless she pulled the curtains closed. Thankfully, it was a dry heat, rather than a humid one, which Di'rok always felt was far worse. His own seat at the front of the wagon was shaded by an overhanging awning sort of thing, but it was still very hot, with the sun beating down on him. He was glad for the clothing he'd selected, which matched what the locals typically wore in this region.

He pressed on, only resting the horses as much as was necessary. Di'rok was anxious to get back to the city as soon as possible, for he had wasted a lot of time and water going in that big loop to allow the woman time to recover from the worst of her wounds. At last, near the end of the day as the sun was setting, he could see the glimmer of the buildings in the distance. He smiled to himself as he stopped to camp for the night. Tomorrow, they should arrive at the city.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen

To Pele the day seemed endless, and she felt as if she had been thrown back into the torment she had escaped from. There was not much she could do against the heat, except for making use of the curtains to keep it out a tiny bit and remaining stretched out on the floor where she found was the coolest spot in this heated rolling prison cell.

The heat wrung out every drop of moisture from Pele's body, no matter how much she tried to stay still to preserve what strength she could and extend the usefulness of the bit of cactus she had been given. By the time night came, she felt as dry as the desert land they were traveling on, the thirst so overwhelming that even hunger seemed nothing in comparison to it. She made herself get up from the floor and pull open the curtains. The breeze of night air rushed in, and Pele stood near the window, looking out into the darkness and letting the cool of the night caress her flushed skin.

Searching for any stars in the patch of dark sky she could see though the window, the Gondorian tried to keep her mind occupied with memories of her own land, the majesty of mountains, the fertile lands, the scent of forests. However, these longings only brought her back to the desperate wish to get out and away. Turning away from the window she once again turned to the door to inspect it for any weaknesses though she had done it countless times already.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

When morning had come, Di'rok got an early start. By his estimation, he ought to reach his destination by at least noon, and then he'd be rid of her, hopefully. His breakfast was small, as he was running low on supplies by now. He had one spare canteen left under the seat, since he always made sure to carry a lot of those when traveling in this land, and the one he'd been working on was getting low, but some water remained inside. It was warm, but still water. He came to the window and looked in, checking first of all that she was still alive. Passing the canteen through the window, he let it drop down onto the bed. The cap would keep it from leaking, and assuming she didn't somehow miss the sound of it arriving, he figured that ought to get her through the heat of the morning, though it likely wouldn't be enough to properly hydrate her. That ought to at least make it easier to subdue her if she tried to put up a fight, he figured.

After hitching up the horses, Di'rok set off again, trying to push the horses a bit hard so as to get someplace he could get them some water. His estimation was fairly right; it was just before noon when he arrived. He stopped in the shade of a building, where there was a trough for horses and other animals. The city was near the ocean, and given all the desert around, it was vital to have water available for animals to drink from, so it was not uncommon to have troughs of water at various locations. The team eagerly began drinking up as soon as they reached it. He waited to let them drink their fill before he moved on toward a more specific destination within the city. He had a certain buyer in mind, one who typically paid well, and hoped to make a quick and easy profit. Besides that, there were surely a few thieves around the city who'd like to sell off some hot goods, and he was always happy to accommodate them.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen , @Lantaelen

Unable to find a way to break out of the wagon no matter how many times she checked the small window and the door, Pele eventually had resorted to mere survival, preserving energy as much as she could by laying still even when she could not fall asleep. Yet she had drifted off into an uneasy dreamless slumber, when the canteen hit her side. Her eyes flew open, and she curled up instinctively, before she realised that the reason for the hit was the canteen. Sitting up, she first sloshed it to inspect how much water was there, and then took a small sip, leaving the rest for later. After all she did not know how long she would have to make it last.

At some point, seemingly the middle of the day if the heat beating down on the carriage was something to go by, Pele felt the change in the surface they travelled on - it was not the usual bumpiness. And then there were the voices of people. Pele got to her feet and pulled the curtain aside slightly to peer through the window. For a while she simply observed the houses and the people they passed, and thought that the air held a bit of saltiness as if they were by the sea. Were they back in Umbar? Or some other town by the sea? Was he taking her back to Relic? Both anger and despair welled up in her, yet the Gondorian made sure to keep herself in check and not try to break down the door by sheer force - it would only waste what strength she had. Nonetheless, she would fight when the time came. She sat down again and pulled closer her selected tools of defence.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

The mansion of the House of Gimlân was a great and formidable compound within the city of Umbar. Tall bricked walls surrounded a gated estate, it’s entrance flanked by two guards in scarlet robes and long spears of cruel designs. And there were more inside, alongside a large count of servants and thralls. For it’s Lord and Master was a man of commerce, such as it was in the great city of Umbar, dealing not only in the trade and traffic of inanimate commodities and goods, but also in the trade and traffic of people, deigned no different than chattel under their great and wise laws. Such had it been, for many long centuries, and with the promise of many more to follow, with the return of the great Wizard-King in Mordor.

At the arrival of Di’rok, who was known to the gate porters and overseer, word was sent first to even ask if the Master wished to see the merchant. Outside the gates he and his wares could wait, like common peddlers, for Haarith’s time was precious and indeed the most expensive of his commodities. For there was never enough of it in the world. And any loss of it could never be gained back. But Di’rok would not be waiting long. Soon the overseer returned with the Master’s assent and the gate was opened, to allow the merchant and his crew and wares to enter the courtyard. And there wait, under the shade of olive trees and by fountain pools.

And it was very adamantly made known that these pools were not for common use by visitors or even the staff. Never mind the extensive heats of the desert and the constant threat of dehydration. The Master would not have his orderly pools of water disturbed by the vulgarity of human need such as thirst. Peacocks strolled about, fed lavishly, thinking they lived an opulent lifestyle, not knowing they were merely being fattened for the eventual slaughter and serving at one of the great temples to Zigûr the Great.

Soon, the Master arrived, with his chief subordinates, including a tall strongman in a sleeveless vest, biceps bulging with the size of melons as he paused and waited behind Haarith, crossing his arms, eyeing Di’rok and his people. Disappoint or waste the Master’s time, there was only one other commodity that could be traded in for it. Life. But Haarith, dressed in blacks despite the heat, always testing his own endurance and stamina beneath the blazing sun, came to the center of the courtyard and sized up the merchant before him, with hardly a flicker of recognition or any other impression. Would this be to his profit? Or to his waste?

”Speak. What have you brought me?” Haarith inquired of Di’rok.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

Having watered his horses before setting off for Gimlân's property, Di'rok was content to let them merely stand in the shade, knowing they'd already quenched their thirst before coming here. While awaiting permission to enter the grounds, he sat back in his wagon seat and planned how he would present his latest find. Soon enough, he was permitted entry, and soon his wagon was parked in the shade of the olive trees. He made sure the horses were far enough away from the fountain, that they would not try to drink. He was fully aware of how adamant the lord of this estate was about his fountains not being for drinking.

As Lord Gimlân made his appearance, Di'rok straightened up from where he stood, leaned against the wheel of the vehicle. He had brushed off what dust he could, and as the Umbarian lord approached, he did a small bow, for formality's sake. "My lord," he found it amusing in a way, the way people enjoyed such titles as if it made them any different from those without them. "I have in my possession, a prize which I'm sure you would not wish to pass up. A healer, come all the way from Gondor." He explained. "I found her roaming the desert, in need of healing herself. But she has recovered tremendously since then, with only a small amount of aid from myself." He spoke as if this were greatly impressive.

"At the moment, she is a bit.. dehydrated," he added. "I'm afraid it was necessary. She's rather feisty, you see, and threatened to come out fighting." He grinned slightly. "This way, she's much easier to manage, seeing as I did not have a chance to remove the weapons from the wagon before locking her in there." He shrugged slightly. "It's evident that she has some military background and knows how to use those weapons, which leads me to suspect that she is more than the mere healer she claims to be," he added with a hint of intrigue. "Now, I know I could fetch quite a lot for her if I took her to the market, but I wanted to give you the first opportunity for this unusual find." He explained. "Shall I open the door?"

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

Haarith stood and listened with solitary patience, as the trader Di’rok explained, no doubt with some extravagance, his most recent commodity. A healer. From Gondor. So, he had deigned to bring one of the elf-serving traitors to his very courtyard. Given the circumstances of this slave’s capture, it sounded like she was more a spy than any of the other accolades given to her. Haarith was not impressed by these contradictions. The best way to make a sale was simply to be truthful. Buyer’s remorse was handled quite differently in Umbar than it was in other places in Middle-Earth. And it often didn’t just end with an exchange of the money and product.

But still…a warrior, a woman, a Gondorian, that would fetch a handsome reward at the Temple, in terms of influence and aggrandizement. Being feisty was no issue. The Temple liked that. All the more glory to the One. Haarith would indeed pay handsomely for the prize, but he wanted Di’rok to complete the last of the necessary arrangements first. After all, why not? It would bring a little colour into his day.

So for a moment, he held up his hand, to delay the decision to open the door and release the caged individual within. ”You brought an assassin into my home, Di’rok.” Haarith said at first, though he had both his personal champion behind, two guards at the gate, and two more guards in close proximity, flanking the merchant. ”A healer, and yet a trained warrior, what is this contradiction? Are you trying to make sport of my…good nature, Di’rok?” He asked the other man pointedly.

”This is what you’re going to do for this trespass. You are going to open the door and you, yourself, alone, are going to disarm her and then present her.” Haartih explained, lowering his hand, but gesturing to his own guards to stay put. They weren’t going to help Di’rok in subduing this captive. And if she happened to get a few hits on the enslaver during the course, or even overcome him, well…the Temple would enjoy that news as well. Because he knew he could tame the captive. He just shouldn’t have to.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

Traveling so far and wide had certain advantages, as well as disadvantages. Di'rok held back a sigh as the Umbarian Lord responded. Sometimes he forgot how certain people were prone to respond. It was hard enough keeping track of the various 'wives' and lovers he had accumulated all across the continent, but he also had to keep track of the different customers and clients that he dealt with frequently. The former problem was mostly solved by using pet names, but for the latter issue.. not so much.

"I wouldn't go so far as to call her an assassin, my lord." He answered, careful to speak in a respectful tone that sounded sincere, despite the fact it was not. He also wouldn't really call it a 'trespass', but it was wisest not to argue with this guy, he knew. "But I can certainly understand your wariness." He added. Hearing the man's demands, he had to keep from rolling his eyes. Really, as if he were incapable of handling a weakened, dehydrated woman. Di'rok certainly knew how to fight after so many years in his line of business, as well as many years in his youth running with bandits. Plus, he was not the one who had just gone the last two days trapped inside a stifling hot wagon with very little to drink, and no food except that piece of cactus.

"Certainly." he answered the demand, turning to the back door of the wagon. He had intended to do that anyway, as usual. He'd seen her wounds firsthand, had helped tend to some of them, and so had a good idea of which ones would still be bothering her. He could use that against her. Opening the door, he was vaguely surprised to see her sitting up, with some weapons near at hand. "Do you really want to get yourself hurt further?" He asked, leaning a hand on either side of the wagon's door, while not making a move yet to try and grab her. He waited to see if she might realize that trying to fight would only cause her more pain, or if a miracle might happen and she might come out quietly. But then, maybe it would be better if she did put up a fight, so that the Umbarian lord could see that he wasn't lying about her.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen , @Lantaelen

Pele waited patiently and tried to listen in to as much of the conversation outside as she could, and then tensed slightly when Di'rok came to the door and opened it.

"You probably have no idea what it means to value freedom, even at the cost of life," she half-growled at Di'rok, as her hand felt for the hilt of the shortsword she had found among his things, though she had found it lacking both in terms of good balance and sharpness. What she could now see through the open door was not promising in achieving the desired freedom - she could see a piece of encircling wall which meant that she could not just make a dash away. And it seemed that there were at least a few more people.

"I do not mean to give up so easily, pain or no pain," Pele added, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of the sword. However, it looked to her that Di'rok was not armed, and she did not wish to kill him. Instead she scooted back enough to be out of his reach, and got to her feet, steadying herself against one of the shelves. Lack of food and water, and the constant heat had left the Gondorian feeling weak and somewhat faint, but the danger of ending back up in slavery provided her with a surge of adrenaline and unexpected strength.

Whilst leaning against the shelf, Pele's hand had landed on a dipper with a long handle, and now she grabbed it removing from the hook on which it hung, and flung it at Di'rok with as much strength as she could. She did realise that she had little manoeuvring room in the wagon and it was hard to defend herself, but then again she had a plenty of projectiles to throw. And she also knew that she would have to come out eventually, but she was intent on causing as much damage as possible to see if she could multiply her options for escape.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

Moving slightly to one side, Di'rok easily avoided the thrown dipper. "As you wish then." He smiled faintly. He'd rather she didn't throw all of his wares out, as some might be breakable and that would involve further losses. Still, she had a sword in her hand, and he wasn't too eager to get himself cut up. Climbing up while he kept an eye on her, he picked up a cast-iron clothing iron, and threw it at her, expecting that she would dodge. If she didn't, she'd likely get hit by the hefty item.

He immediately grabbed another heavy item, as he happened to be standing near where he kept the cast-iron things, and threw that in her direction as well, just for good measure, before he moved swiftly toward her, grabbing a shield along the way. The shield bore a Rohirric emblem and had been stolen by some thief before ending up in Di'rok's possession. He figured these heavy items would have either forced her to dodge, or struck her, and thus hoped that it would hinder her from striking at him with that sword. With that hope in mind, he reached swiftly with the intention of grabbing her by the sword arm in hopes of subduing her before she would have a chance to attack him, with his shield ready to deflect any attack that might come regardless.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

Haarith stood with his arms folded behind his back, watching with sly disinterest as he had the merchant open up his wagon. This had all the ingredients of a spectacle, having brought an armed woman and veteran of Gondor into his courtyard. And yet, he offered no help or aid of his own considerable resources. Why shouldn’t he risk hurt or harm to his servants when he wasn’t even sure about this purchase? It was a poor trader who did not have their wares in order for purview and inspection.

Di’rok approached the woman with a threat to cooperate, or else. Naturally it provoked the opposite reaction, Haarith clearly hearing the counter retort and following struggle. A little smile crept on his lips as the trader and merchandise began to conflict with one another. But no, it was no glorious competition on the sands of an arena or duel in the city streets. It became a tantrum, of flung objects and useless cajoling. Right here in his very house. Shameful. But look at her fight! A cornered animal, dejected and wearisome and defensive. The Temple might appreciate that.

And if they appreciated it, so would Haarith. And maybe that’s why Di’rok came to him. Haarith would pay handsomely for the chance to be…appreciated, by the Temple.

”Come now, Di’rok,” Haarith said with mock dramatics, ”you want to be a dealer in people, you have to understand that some don’t quite realize their natural state so readily. An unbroken slave does not make for a very good price.” He taunted the merchant, urging him to increase his efforts, if he wanted to make this very generous sale. Of course, Haarith could order his men to help and they could simply overpower the Gondorian with sheer muscle power and numbers. That’s probably what was going to have to be done when the warrior was put in his possession.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen , @Lantaelen

The relatively light projectile she had thrown at Di'rok was returned with a much heavier item, and Pele barely managed to duck her head and have the iron crash in the wall behind her. No doubt it would have knocked her right out had it hit her. Just as she looked up again, she was forced to press against the wall to the left to avoid the next thing flying towards her. And then came Di'rok himself.

She did not have much room to move backwards, so Pele hastened to meet the man, aiming a thrust for his face to make him raise his shield even though he grabbed for her arm. Pressing her left shoulder into his shield both to steady herself and to hinder him from moving it down quickly, she aimed a swift knee kick for his groin.

Desperate anger glinted in her blue eyes as she did her best to fight back with what she had available. While a thought in her mind told her that all the efforts might be for naught, she refused to obey it and fight as hard and as long as she could. Even if there was a whole host of enemies waiting outside.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

She did indeed show some fighting skills, which Di'rok had anticipated. Healer she may be, but she'd had some training. But then, so had he, in his own ways, among bandits and ruffians who didn't play by the rules. As she thrust her sword toward his face, his shield did instinctively come up to block it, catching the blade without much trouble, then he quickly jerked it back down sharply despite her attempts to stop him doing so, hoping to use the bottom edge to strike her on the thigh as she brought her knee up at him.

Having swiftly pulled his hips back as much as possible to avoid the knee strike, he was inwardly relieved that her attack had failed, but gave no outward sign of it. He had to keep in mind that he did not want to damage her further, or he might have become more violent and rough in his attempt at subduing her. But keeping in mind that he would get more profit from her with fewer damages, he gave a hard shove with his shield, hoping to fling the woman back against the wall and therefore, get hold of her arm or hair or whatever he could use to make her stop struggling. All the while, thinking maybe he shouldn't have given her the partial canteen earlier, as it had apparently given her more strength and energy than he'd anticipated. Although, he also thought, perhaps it was for the better, because this way Haarith would see that she was, indeed, a fighter.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen , @Lantaelen

Her attack did not quite work out, nor did she have enough strength to prevent the shield from coming down. It dug into Pele's leg, and though she grit her teeth and did not show any other sign of pain it caused her, a bruise would likely form where the shield struck.

It took significant effort for Pele to remain upright when Di'rok proceeded to shove the shield at her; the wall was just behind her, there was little room for Pele to defend herself though she tried her best to manoeuvre out of the grasp of his reaching arm. The sword was of no use in such tight quarters, so she let it drop since it only restricted her movements. Instead she tried to grab his arm in return, intending to see if she could pull him hard enough to lose his balance.

"You might come to regret this..." she growled, well aware that her threat was empty in present circumstances, and might as well remain so forever.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

It seemed like the struggle was finally over. Haarith did not hide his smile as the prisoner was finally cowed and beaten by Di’rok. To think the merchant would have tried to offload such a task onto Haarith’s hands! Well, not that he didn’t possess the tools or expertise for that, all about him. Finally, he assented to offering some help, as this entire spectacle might last all afternoon and he had plenty of other work to do. He made a gesture and the large bodyguard at his side moved up to help the merchant complete the last of his task, in getting the Gondorian woman out here and made presentable for sale.

Haarith already knew though that with such a spirit, of defiance or cowed obedience, she would make a worthy tribute to the Temple. What they did with her after, he did not care. As long as they knew that such quality came from his hands. Behind him, other servants brought out chairs, a low table, and a platter of fruit and drinks for the business that he and Di’rok would soon discuss after this sorry spectacle. In the meanwhile, Di’rok would have the assistance of Haarith’s guard, a hulk of a man, who could help on the act of overpowering Pele and drawing her forth from the wagon.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

As she reached to grab his arm, Di'rok allowed her to grab it, but as she tried to pull him off balance, he instead rapidly switched the grip around to be in his favor, putting pressure on the bones in her arm in such a way that it should hurt her too much to struggle. "You might come to regret it a bit more." Di'rok returned with a somewhat dark smile. He was glad she'd dropped the sword, and with his shield between them, it was unlikely that she would be able to throw any punches or anything. He felt pretty confident that he had her controlled, now.

That was about the time that Haarith decided to send his man in to take over. Di'rok waited until the bodyguard had a good hold on the prisoner before he released her arm. "Seems I was far too kind in giving her a bit of water to drink." He remarked with a smirk toward Pele. "I'll know better for next time." He didn't care whether the woman heard that or not. Let her think about the fact that whoever would be locked in his wagon next would likely suffer from thirst far worse than she had. Perhaps hunger as well. Less resources for him to have to use on someone who would probably only be sent to die anyway. Or whatever Haarith planned to do with her; he didn't care.

[Pele Alarion]

~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018
@Rillewen , @Lantaelen

Her attempt to unbalance Di'rok was played out against her, and her arm was twisted so that she had to bite her lip not to cry out in pain. Stuck at the back of the wagon, with the wall behind her and the shield almost up in her face, Pele had no way to squirm her way out of this and was forced to give up on any immediate attempts to continue the fight.

"You don't know yet who would regret it more..." she growled at Di'rok in hot anger. However, she could not escape now, nor was she sure when she would eventually run out of luck and be unable to get away at all.

Then another man entered the wagon, so large that it seemed to Pele that he filled all the remaining space in the wagon. Now when it was clear that she would have to get out of the wagon one way or another, she stopped resisting. Yet her eyes were always looking for a chance to break free, or at least cause some damage. At any rate, she decided that whoever leaned in close enough would get fingers in his eyes, if she had at least one arm free.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

Di’rok’s comments got no reply or remark from the guard, who was now the one who had to pay for this so-called kindness extended to the prisoner. It didn’t take much to get the woman under control, the guard being fresh and full of energy, set upon Pele and moved to wrestle her one arm at a time. While Di’rok grappled with her, the guard focused on her other flank, and with tremendous strength, seized her and brute-force pulled her away from the wall and out into the open.

”That’s the one causing you all this trouble.” Lord Haarith noted, when he finally set eyes upon Pele. He saw a desperate animal cornered and ready to bite as deeply as she may against any foe. That was…good. The Temple liked them with such spirit and fight in them. It made the offering more valuable to the Great One beyond the Veil of Night. But as they dragged Pele out, the guard made the mistake of thinking she was beaten and for a moment, dropped his guard, turning to inspect the interior of the wagon in case there might be some other threat or danger to his master’s home.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Lantaelen
~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

When Di'rok released her from the painful hold on her arm only to be replaced with the large guards firm grip, Pele tried to resist at first, but eventually had to give way. Perhaps if she had not been under duress for so long, and hungry and thirsty for the last couple days, she would have had a greater chance to stand her ground. Once out, she stood for a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the bright light and breathed in the fresh air after having been cooped up in that wagon.

A quick look around was enough to help her gain at least some sort of understanding of the surroundings. A walled up yard, yet not dust covered but with plants and water; her eyes also visited shortly on Haarith and his entourage. There was no clear route of escape as far as she could see - walls and guards. She doubted she could effectively get over that wall with the whole lot of them in pursuit, should she even manage to attempt escape.

With that she looked back at the guard who had pulled her out and saw that he now was more interested in the wagon that keeping an eye on her. Almost without thinking she turned and drove her left elbow for his ribs with as much strength as she could muster and started for the gate, though not further than a few steps - there were guards there as well. It would be useless to keep circling around the yard for she would not be able to sustain any kind of fast running for a long while, so she chose to stand her ground. Taking a battle-ready stance, she kept her bandaged left hand closer to herself, while her right fist was ready to strike anyone who would approach her.

Desperate challenge gleamed in her blue eyes while she waited for the large guard or for others to come at her.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

They finally got a good look at the Gondorian female, as she was finally pulled out of the wagon and into the open. It was indeed a strong enclosure, with high walls and an iron gate and seemingly no escape beyond the confines. Haarith looked on Pele and saw a fire of defiance that would light up the Temple with its radiance. And the Master would be pleased. Pleased with him. She looked like a starved feline, cornered and ready to bite. That wouldn’t do. He needed her to persist and survive in order to impress the Temple. That is, if he decided to buy her. Di’rok had not been exemplary in his sales pitch thus far.

The large bodyguard however was more foolish and what did Haarith expect, hiring them for muscle and not brain work. His guard averted, the captive was able to land a sharp blow that caused the bodyguard to cry out, but not to topple or fall, absorbing the blow of the direct attack and turning back to the captive with a glower. But there was no need to rush. The woman wasn’t going anywhere. Armed guards were by the gate and another was behind Haarith. Along with his bodyguard and Di’rok, it was a five-on-one combat.

Very…amusing.

”Di’rok…” Haarith chided in an expectant tone. Your guest is being very rowdy in my home.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele
July, T.A. 3018

When the captive suddenly elbowed the guard and broke free of him, Di'rok might have rolled his eyes. That was one of the oldest tricks, and this goon had fallen for it? He had to refrain from covering his face with his palm, and instead, steeled himself not to start laughing. She was definitely a fiery one, and determined not to give up without a fight, however useless. He shook his head slightly. "You see, my lord," He turned to Haarith with a smile, not terribly concerned with recapturing her at the moment. After all, where was she going to go?

"She could be an excellent asset, I'm sure. In the pits, perhaps. If she wants to fight, then why not put that to good use?" He suggested with a grin. Something of that sort seemed to him like the most natural use for a slave like that. "Though of course, I'm sure there are plenty of other areas where such spirit could be useful." He added, not presuming to tell him what he ought to use the slave for. "She's not even at her full potential at the moment, being weakened from hunger and thirst." He also added, wanting to make him think about how much more she would fight if she were at her full strength.

Shrugging slightly as he let Haarith think about that, Di'rok went to his wagon and took out a couple of things from near the seat, then approached her. One of these was a large, full cloak, which he figured he could toss around her head and trap her in it. He held it in one hand as he drew nearer, preparing to use it on her, while the other hand held a short, sturdy stick. He didn't want to use a bladed weapon on her, but a few bruises wouldn't be as problematic as cuts.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Lantaelen
~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

Pele used the few moments she was left alone to evaluate the location in more detail; it could probably be thought of as beautiful, if not for the situation she was in. Either way, she knew it would not be for her to enjoy the welcoming shade or refreshingly cool water, not with a bunch of men around her wishing to do evil to her.

She took a step away from the guard who now looked ready to make minced meat of her, and then glared at Di'rok who looked as if he was about to catch a wild beast in his cloak.

"Keep your filthy hands off me!" she growled at him, deciding against a direct attack on the man and rather looking for a way to shift out of his way. It was good to be able to breathe some fresh air, and she was not keen on getting tangled up and suffocating in that cloak - since she did not see any other reason Di'rok would have fetched it.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

”Mhm.” Haarith acknowledged, as Di’rok tried to better upsell his gift. Yes, these traitorous elf-friend Gondorians certainly had a degree of spirit in them. It might have been commendable, had it not been so erroneous and misguided. The fighting pits or the Temple, either would take this captive, Haarith knew that, but the Temple…there was a chance there could be a blessing. A very divine and fruitful blessing, from the One.

He rolled his eyes next and let a smile come over his lips, as Di’rok prepared for the final scuffle, while Haarith’s rather embarrassed guard glowered and moved to flank the captive. ”Full potential, you say? And yet at this meagre state, she is already enough for two grown, well fed men. There is something very truth-instilling about being trapped in a cage for a time. You…ever tried it, Di’rok?” He asked, quiet spoken and yet authoritative all the time. Or perhaps he took his cage mentally with him everywhere he went.

Crossing his arms, he wondered if he should call for a drink as he was about to witness yet another spectacle. Where before he had been impatient, now it was growing on him, this little performance of Di’rok’s. The captive woman had a tremendous deal of potential.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele and Haarith
July, T.A. 3018

The comment about the captive being a match for 'two full grown, well fed men' nearly made him roll his eyes. He was really only showing off that the captive had some fight in her, even in her present condition. It wasn't as if he couldn't easily subdue her if he wanted to. The other comment about a cage, and asking if he had ever tried it.. well, Di'rok pretended not to even hear that. He was not entirely sure whether the man was implying anything there that he didn't like, but Di'rok certainly had no intention of letting himself be caged. It was for this reason that he had not been back to his homeland in about thirty years... But he had learned that being valuable as a supplier of merchandise was a good way of providing himself insurance against such a fate.

He moved toward the captive, slowly circling, watching for an opening. He could end it quickly, but that would deprive the buyer from witnessing more of her skill, wouldn't it? He wanted to draw it out, let her tire herself out by fighting or dodging. So, he threw a few jabbing strikes at her with the staff, intending to make her react to that, and hoped that she would show off some of that skill he was sure that she possessed. Like a cat toying with a mouse, he would continue to draw out the fight until he felt confident that Haarith had seen enough to convince him, or until Pele appeared to be too exhausted to keep it up, and then he would find a way to wrap up the fight and present the subdued captive to Haarith. Hopefully, he could get an excellent price and be on his way before the day had concluded.

[Pele Alarion]

@Rillewen , @Lantaelen
~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

Pele did not get that much time to rest before she was forced to fend off both Di'rok and that heavyset guard. It took all of her skill and effort to avoid being hit with a staff, wrapped up in a cloak, or being caught by the guard, and she moved this way and that, so focused on maintaining as much of agility as she could that she abandoned any thought of attempting any attacks of her own. Even though it was clear to her that she did not have anywhere to escape, she was unwilling to simply stand there and be taken without any resistance.

It seemed that neither of the men were willing to commit to an attack so much that she could use it against them, and the constant dance of avoidance seemed to take forever. Pele began to feel her limbs become heavier and slower with every moment as the constant effort drained any energy she had still managed to save, and sweating from exertion and sun beating down on her made the effects of thirst much worse. Eventually she felt that if this went on much longer she would simply collapse from sheer exhaustion.

Surely, her condition had to be obvious, and at some point she felt a painful hit to the back of her knee. It knocked her off balance, and she fell onto her knees and hands, trying to blink away the light-headedness that accompanied the sudden fall. Normally, she would be back up on her feet in no time, or at least would roll away out of reach of immediate following attacks, but now the best she could manage was to bring forward one leg in a failed attempt to find footing enough to push herself back up.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

Clearly this cornered animal had more bite to her than any of the men expected. But the exhaustion was palpable in her form and expression, as they wore her down. Wordlessly, Di’rok and the bodyguard managed to split her focus, making sure one was in front of her and the other behind, until one managed to break her guard and strike her in the knee. She went down and the bodyguard sprang first from behind, throwing his bulky arms around her torso in a tight embrace, locking her arms against her sides.

Ruthlessly, he lifted Pele right up…and then threw and slammed her back down on the ground.

That should be the end of it. Hopefully. ”Finally.” Haarith commented, both impatient and yet amused. He snapped his fingers and summoned a veiled servant, who bore a silver jug of clear water, with two cups. One was poured…for Haarith who drank his first. It had been exhausting work just watching these two men wrestle a wild slave in his courtyard. It brought…some colour to his day, Haarith supposed. If she could bring this sort of strength to the Temple however…

The bodyguard stepped away from Pele. It was Di’rok’s responsibility to present her for sale, so let him make any finishing touches to her defeat. ”A healer from Gondor, who gave both a trader and a guard much trouble. But surely there is more to her than meets the eye, is there, Di’rok?” Haarith queried him. Give a good answer and maybe he could have a cup of water too.

[Pele Alarion]

@Lantaelen , @Rillewen
~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

Pele was steeling herself to manage the rest of the way back up to her feet, but she was too slow and never accomplished the feat. Instead she felt the guard grabbing her so tightly that it was difficult to breathe, and she felt like a rag doll in his arms and unable to do anything against it. She did attempt a kick at his legs but it was lacking in strength for she felt like he was squeezing the very life out of her.

The very next moment she found herself flying towards the ground, and unable to break the fall in any way she turned her head in an attempt not to break her nose at least. She landed hard; the remaining air escaped her lungs, and as her head hit the ground, bruising her cheekbone, everything turned black before her eyes, and she lost consciousness submitting to the combined forces of pain, exhaustion, and lack of air for proper breathing.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele and Haarith
July, T.A. 3018

While he thought it was a bit excessive to lift the woman up and then slam her down, after she had appeared defeated.. Di'rok didn't really care, either. He didn't even seem much phased watching it, feeling confident that he would soon have talked the Umbarian Lord into buying this particular woman from him. And then she would be off of his hands, and no longer his problem. He could do as he liked with her, once he had bought her.

"Indeed, there is, my lord." He agreed with the man's comment, smiling. "It must have been tiresome, to witness all of that. I apologize," he didn't mean that, actually.. he had wanted him to see how she could fight, after all. But whatever. "Shall we go and talk over the particulars someplace more shaded, my lord?" He asked cordially, as it was actually quite hot. He hoped to appeal to the man's own want to get out of the heat, though, rather than his own. Though Di'rok was dressed in the garb which the people of the dessert wore, he still preferred the cooler atmosphere of almost any other land. In fact, he only came here to Umbar and Harad when he had things to sell which were not exactly.. sellable in the other areas such as Gondor.

Once the negotiations had begun, wherever they took place, Di'rok drew upon his charm and skill with words to build up the potential usefulness of this woman, as a slave or as a fighter.. or even just a female, who could be fixed up to be pretty, with the right amount of cleaning up and such. In whatever areas he didn't actually know something about her, he supplemented this lack of knowledge with enough exaggeration and lies, that it sounded entirely factual.

Drawing on the fact that he had traveled with her for several days, which he made sure to mention so the man would be led to believe he truly knew what he was talking about, Di'rok did his very best to make her seem like quite a versatile prize to be had. The fact that she was a healer could be incredibly useful. After all, who wouldn't like to have their own personal healer for a slave? One with the renown for which she was allegedly known, back in Gondor (which he had no idea about, in truth). And the added skills of an elite warrior, was that not doubly impressive? The fact that it had taken so much to bring her down, despite being so weakened from hunger, thirst, and heat. He could hardly imagine how difficult it might have been, had she been properly fed and all that.

But... if Haarith truly was not interested.. well, there were plenty of others who would be quite eager to buy her, if the Umbarian lord passed up this incredible opportunity. It was an exceptional bargain that he asked in return for this slave; just a little more than the cost of replacing the food and other supplies he had used to bring her here.

Of course, the amount he began with was significantly higher than what he actually hoped to get for her, and far more than covered the cost of what he had used on her.. but Haarith did not need to know that... but he expected the man to want to negotiate downward and then they could meet at some point closer to what he hoped to actually get for her. But honestly he was hoping to get her off his hands quickly, and not have to go around to different estates and people to find someone to buy her.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Haarith Gimlân

The captive was rendered immobile, slammed on the hard paving of his courtyard. Maybe a bit too hard, perhaps causing harm or hurt which might affect the ultimate sale value of the product. Still, she lived, barely breathing. She had a good fight in her. Maybe with some parceled food and drink, he could get the best of that, to appeal to the Temple, without it having to be a mortal struggle each and every time. At least Di’rok apologized for that. Haarith could appreciate good manners.

No, they could not go to shade and talk. They would talk here, under the blazing heat of the Sun, where there could be no secrets or tricks. Di’rok though was a talker, very skilled, and soon persuaded Haarith that the captive would be more worth than the trouble she was. Besides, after all the colour this little spectacle had added to his day, could he really let his time be wasted without something to compensate him for? Di’rok tried to explain all the ways the slave woman might be useful, but Haarith already had his own ideas. To garner himself blessings and divine favour from the One…

In the end, he agreed to the sale, after some bartering over the price. And another slave soon arrived bearing a hefty purse of coin, for the purchase, to be given to Di’rok. But also a warning. ”I always get my money’s worth, Di’rok. I trust you have not told me any falsehoods about this sale, or we shall see you making good on this exchange…however you can.” He said, threatening Di’rok with enslavement if he proved to be a trickster. What a cruel irony, turning a slave merchant into a slave. But such was life here in the city of Umbar. Cruel and wicked. As their Master intended and got.

As for Pele Alarion, the Sergeant of Gondor, there was brought an iron collar, to be fitted around her neck and to signal her new status in this life. Unless things should change.

[Rillewen]

@Pele Alarion @Lantaelen

"Di'rok"
With Pele and Haarith
July, T.A. 3018

Despite the heat of the sun, Di'rok put forth his best sales pitch. And with a smile, he concluded the sale with a promise that the goods would likely prove even better than he claimed. He was quite pleased with how this had turned out, actually, and accepted the purse of gold with a bow to Lord Gimlan, ignoring the slave who had brought it. "I am certain you will not be disappointed, my lord," He assured him.

Once all of the formalities had been done, and the sale was completed, Di'rok bid the lord farewell, after offering some well-worded compliments about the man's excellent estate. Soon, he had his wagon rolling out of the courtyard. He could hardly get out of there fast enough, but maintained a steady pace until he was well out of sight. He had remembered, while dealing with Gimlan this time around, why he had little interest in maintaining much of a business relationship with the guy. And from this point on, he had no intention of returning to do any future business with him...

He was very pleased with the amount of gold he had managed to get from that sale, and laughed to himself as he hurried his horses along, anxious to get away before Gimlan discovered that his newest slave bore the mark of another owner. And if he didn't find that out, or didn't care.. he would soon find that the slave he'd bought would be unsuitable for the temple, as Di'rok was aware that they did not accept offerings that were not whole. Perhaps that missing part of her finger had saved her life, perhaps not. He had little concern for that; his concern at the moment was getting far enough away from Umbar that he had no need to worry about Gimlan's wrath. He decided maybe he'd travel to Gondor next, and from there, perhaps Dale, or lands beyond. There were plenty of places he could choose, and it could be many years before he next set foot in Umbar. And when he did, he would be sure to avoid Gimlan.

(Di'rok has now left the RP :D)

[Pele Alarion]

@Lantaelen
~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

Slowly Pele began to regain consciousness when she felt herself being handled by someone not too gently. A quiet groan escaped her, when she felt something cold on her neck - were they trying to strangle her? She wanted to resist, but her body did not want to cooperate, and for a good long while she managed nothing more than tense up. She opened and closed her eyes again a few times in an attempt to make the dizzy feeling go away. From where she was she could only see someone's feet and concluded that someone was standing over her.

"Leave... me... alone..." she managed a quiet growl of warning, slowly getting to her knees, supporting herself against the ground with one hand, while the other went to her neck to find the newly acquired collar there.

Pele remained where she was, trying to recover at least some remains of strength, fighting dizziness, and taking in the situation. It appeared that Di'rok was gone, wagon and all, and then she observed the positions of Haarith, his bulky bodyguard and other people. The chances of her being able to overcome them all and make her way off were none, at least not this very moment. Yet she refused to believe that this was it, that there would be no way out. If she gave up hope now, she knew she would not last long, not as herself.

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion

Lord Haarith Gimlân

The newly acquired slave clearly didn’t like her surroundings. Or her new collar. A cornered, wounded animal bites deepest they say, but this one wasn’t doing any harm, at the end of her strength now. To think she deigned to give orders to her new master to leave her alone! The audacity was troublesome and would take some correcting. Haarith just looked on with unaffected eyes, knowing there was no sting or bite to anything this captive could do.

”Leave me alone, master.” He corrected for her, quietly. That would come in time too. ”Or perhaps you would like another rush and haste to meet the ground, from my burly tool here.” Haarith gestured to the bodyguard, who could so easily sweep Pele back up and slam her down hard again. On the cobblestones. ”Our special guest here doesn’t seem to appreciate my hospitality or her new land. Perhaps a nice view of the surroundings would help her accommodate.” He mused, knowing it would be a great status symbol among the other great families of Umbar to hoist a Gondorian in a cage above the entrance to his estate. All could come and see and gawk at the treacherous elf-friend. And see that they are…nothing. Nothing to fear and only everything to loathe.

”Let’s try that again, shall we?” He said, gesturing to the bodyguard to pick up Pele and put her on her feet fully. If she could talk again with respect, he might give her some water before he sent her on her special viewing.

[Pele Alarion]

@Lantaelen


~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

Pele remained silent for a good long while, and when the large guard set her on her feet, she felt unsteady having used up most of her energy in the fight and her head hurting from hitting the pavement. His strong arms made sure she did not fall, though the assistance was granted none too gently.

She assessed the circumstances and the options left to her which were not many. She could not fight, and any other resistance would only land her in more pain, yet the pride did not let her grovel before anyone. She cleared her throat and licked her dry lips, before looking up at Haarith as if she was assessing him before she eventually spoke.

"You may have all the power over me to do what you will," Pele said slowly, and then added with quiet confidence. "Yet I serve only Gondor."

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion

Lord Haarith Gimlân

The defiance was annoying, he could see it very clearly in the woman’s eyes. Haarith might have control over her personage right now, to restrict and limit where she might go, who she might see or meet, what she might consume or when she might be able to sleep even. That was all on the outside. On the inside, she was not giving in yet. But that was natural. Some people just didn’t understand their natural place in life. They had to be corrected.

”You serve an empty shell. But don’t you worry,” Haarith flashed his smile at her, hands behind his back, leaning slightly to look her more directly in her fierce eyes, ”we’ll soon fill that emptiness with a new purpose. Shall we try again, this time with some more stick than carrot? Address me with respect, or you can go without food and water for a day and a night. And believe me,” he looked up to the sun, then back to her, ”it’s going to be very hot and dry this afternoon.” He taunted her.

No water, and plenty of dry heat, would have her dehydrated and perhaps…hallucinating even. And sometimes the captives said the most interesting secrets. Unless she was stronger than she looked.

[Pele Alarion]

@Lantaelen


~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

"There is no emptiness; I know my purpose well," Pele countered, a note of weariness in her voice alongside the calm confidence. "It won't change only because someone has managed to capture me against my will."

A wry smile touched her lips when Haarith promised her a stick instead of a carrot. Lack of food and water, and heat of the sun was not even the worst that could happen in this land. She had certainly been through much worse, and had somehow survived. She was not sure how much she could still take without breaking, and whether her body would not give in before there ever came another chance of escape. She had squandered one chance already, and there may never come another after all.

"I am familiar with hunger and thirst, with heat of the day and cold of the night," she informed Haarith calmly. "I've been visited by pain and suffering. I will embrace any of these again, if you leave me no other choice, but I do not see a good reason to exchange my loyalty to Gondor for someone who merely has power over me at some given point."

[Lantaelen]

@Pele Alarion

Lord Haarith Gimlân

So poetic, so brave, and for what? Oh, Pele could be strong and defiant now, as expected. They will see how she could be after a day and a night in the cage. Dangling, under the sun, the bars heated to an almost scorching temperature, burning any flesh or skin they came into contact with, all the while, no food, no drink, but with a thriving city all around. Her kind always broke. And then they went to the Temple, meekly, obediently. His name would be praised for this catch.

”So, you’ve chosen destruction. But I am confident we can make you feel the esteem of the honours planned for you.” Sent to the Void, with the Dark Master who lorded over all, promising new things, new boons, out of the endless night, as only He could do. That was the truths told by the Great One in Lugbúrz.

He signaled for his companions to bring out the new domicile, which was an oversized bird cage, enough for a grown sized human to crouch and cower in, though not enough space to stand or lay down. Forever cramped and uncomfortable. The bars had a discoloring to it. Could be rust. Could be worse. They brought the cage and put it down behind Pele, as if signalling the choices before her. Submission or pain. She was so eager to embrace the latter. Would her mind stay the same upon seeing her mode of suffering presented to her?

[Pele Alarion]

@Lantaelen


~ Struck Down But Not Destroyed ~
July, T.A. 3018

"I choose life," Pele said; and that was what she longed for wholeheartedly. And even if she would tell anyone else in her position to forget the pride and submit in order to survive and have chances of escape later, she was loath to follow her own advice. Her pride did not permit her to humble herself willingly before this man. She glanced at the cage with a corner of her eye, and then raised her chin just a little more, her blue eyes regarding Haarith with steely determination.

"A life without groveling before an enemy for that you are to me. If that means that I will perish, so be it," her words did not falter, though her heart sank at the prospect of being stuck in that cage. She would survive somehow. This, and perhaps anything else coming her way. Or perhaps she would not. Nonetheless, she would not submit willingly, nor serve someone she saw as an enemy.