Chapter 14:
1 month later:
Irideth's first indication something was seriously wrong was that she couldn't eat.
Well, she could have, she supposed; it was just that eating... actually, even the smell of food, was enough to make her feel nauseous.
Despite this, she tried something small. Just an apple. Not even a big one; a horse could have eaten the whole thing in one mouthful.
She barely took three bites before feeling like she was going to be sick.
Perpetual exhaustion was the next thing she noticed. It was all she could do to stand sometimes, and often when she walked it felt like she was moving through molasses.
She ached, too. Her joints hurt almost constantly, and some days she was plagued by a headache that just wouldn't go away.
Irideth wasn't certain what to do about any of this; she didn't have a fever and wasn't showing the usual cold symptoms. Willow in her tea at meals did little to alleviate the pain.
She tried using her healing magic; it worked better than the tea, but the aches always returned within an hour and it did nothing about the exhaustion. Considering the continued magicka drain, which only exacerbated things in the long run, it just wasn't worth it.
And then there were the dreams; she barely slept most nights, jerking awake at all hours from half-remembered nightmares, covered in cold sweat. Whenever she did remember a dream, it was often something about her family. She almost preferred the nightmares; waking up to reality was far harsher after a dream like that. Her chest would ache, she would feel weighed down and moving would take extra effort for a while.
Valar's sake, what she wouldn't give for a decent night's rest.
"What's wrong with me?"
Irianna had managed to re-create her spell, and she was absolutely delighted that the connection appeared stronger this time; Irideth was less transparent.
Despite this, she looked worse than she had the first time they'd spoken. She moved too stiffly for Irianna's liking, and she looked... wan. Worn, which was unsettling to see in a child her age.
And when Irideth described her symptoms, the khajiit became even more worried.
"You... um... your Master... Sauron, you said... he isn't hurting you?" Irianna asked, keeping an eye on the figure sitting with her legs crossed on the opposite side of the spell circle. Irideth, who had been staring at the floor the whole time, shook her head.
"Nobody's trying to withhold food? Or water?"
Another headshake. Irianna felt her jaw clenching, tail twitching unconsciously behind her and nearly knocking over a bowl of bone meal.
"You say you've noticed no other cold symptoms? At all?"
A nod, followed by a morose poke at a swirl of chalk. "I wouldn't touch that, if I were you; these types of spells can be... volatile if they're messed up."
"Sorry," Irideth mumbled. Mara's sake, she sounded drunk, almost.
Irianna's claws dug into her robes almost unconsciously. Colette had been studying something like this a while ago, she remembered the older apprentice had been spending hours in the Arcaneum, muttering to herself about the mind and life energies...
"Irideth, how long ago were you kidnapped?"
Irideth's eyes snapped to the khajiit's, spine jerking into an upright position, mouth opening and closing like a stunned spadetail.
Then she went still. "A... almost a year," she said, so softly even Irianna's ears almost didn't pick it up. "I've been in Mordor for almost a year."
I haven't seen my family in almost a year, Irianna translated to herself.
"Irideth, you're homesick," Irianna said quietly. "You're... I don't really know how to explain this, one of the other apprentices here, she focuses mainly on the Restoration school, she... um, she thinks she's found... Damnit, I really don't know how to put this, but her research indicates links between life energies and the state of a person's mind. Sentient creatures can form associations, be it with objects, other creatures or even a particular date or time of year. She says it's mostly subconscious in humans, but these associations can influence the body, like a panic response to a certain smell. It's the same with other emotions, too. You were kidnapped, by wraiths, torn away from your family and everything safe and friendly you'd known. That's frightening by itself, and being subsequently enslaved to someone known throughout your whole continent as the 'Dark Lord' or 'Nameless Enemy' wouldn't help things."
Irideth snorted. Irianna managed a momentary grin.
"Would I be correct in saying you don't exactly trust him?"
Irideth was silent for several seconds. "No," she said. "I expected him to hurt me... and he did, with the collar, but I expected more than that. I thought he would talk down to me, beat me, treat me like a working animal and then ignore me. He's... done none of that, not really. He's really unpleasant to deal with when he's in a bad mood, but he hasn't hurt me, not even when he's really angry. I... it seems like... I think sometimes he even tries to stay away from me when he's angry, but... People are obviously afraid of him. Most of his ministers are terrified of him; even Kamaal was looking out for me when Sauron was in one of his rage fits. He knows him far better than I do, and that... I don't know how long this can last. What will happen when he does lose control? He's a Maia, he could kill me without even trying!"
A tear fell onto the girl's hand and Irideth jerked slightly before brushing at the wet tracks on her cheeks; Irianna didn't think she'd even noticed she was crying until now.
"And then there's...," Irideth had to pause, inhaling shakily several times before continuing. "He's... he'll talk to me, ask me about what I've been doing and hold me sometimes but... I don't think there's... there's nothing in it. It's..."
"He doesn't mean it," Irianna said quietly. Irideth nodded, rubbing at her streaming eyes again.
"I almost wish he was cruel to me, so I wouldn't remember. So I wouldn't..." Irideth broke down again, hands covering her face as her shoulders shook with the force of her quiet sobs. "I want my family. I just want to go home."
Irianna reached forward before she could think, then paused when she remembered she couldn't actually touch the other girl. She withdrew slowly, teeth biting into her lower lip.
"Is... Is it at all possible for you to escape?" Irianna asked quietly.
Irideth wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. "I wouldn't even be able to get out of the Tower, I don't think, much less across Mordor without getting caught. And with this," here she gestured to the jeweled collar at her neck, "I think Sauron is able to... not track me, exactly, but... feel me. He can read my mind, speak to me no matter where I am. He would be able to find me no matter where I went."
"Can you block him?" Irianna asked.
"Yes, but only when he's not actively trying to read my thoughts. If he is... I haven't really tried to stop him then," Irideth said quietly, gripping the fabric of her nightgown in clenched fists.
The 'because he would probably hurt me' was heavily implied.
"Well, that does put a damper on that plan," Irianna said after several heavy seconds of silence. Irideth's lips twitched into a smile for a moment.
Silence for several seconds.
"Irideth, I... I don't really know what to tell you. I want to help you, I do, but... I can't figure out how I can, aside from maybe helping you learn a few spells," Irianna said.
"You wouldn't happen to have an invisibility spell, would you?" Irideth asked, smiling thinly.
"Actually, there are invisibility spells," Irianna said; Irideth blinked in surprise. "But they're some of the most advanced Illusion spells; I've barely managed to cast adept-level. Illusion's one of my worst schools, aside from Conjuration. And it takes a lot of magicka to cast even the weakest ones."
Irideth's dismay at this revelation was quite visible.
"Keep practicing, Irideth," Irianna said, a steely undertone seeping into her words. "You told me last time that Sauron encourages you to practice with your flame spells. Do it. You learned Frostbite and Magelight; use them. It's like exercising a muscle; the more you practice, the more your magicka reserves will grow."
"But what if he finds out?" Irideth cried. "He searches my mind sometimes, and I never know when he'll do it and I can't stop him or he'll know something's wrong!"
Irianna cursed under her breath. "I'll have to speak with Urag and some of the instructors, see if any of them know anything about mind links."
Irideth, meanwhile, had wrapped her arms around herself and was staring at the floor, tears still falling steadily down her face.
"We'll figure something out, Irideth," Irianna said. "I'm not giving up on you; we'll find a way to get you home."
Irideth woke with still-wet tear tracks on her face. She sat up and wiped them away, sitting for a moment to wait for a dizzy spell to pass. Once it had, she dressed as quickly as she was able; her limbs were in no mood for cooperation, apparently.
Sauron was still asleep when she entered his room. Deeply asleep for once, judging by the depth and rate of his breath.
Since he did not have any pressing obligations that she knew of, Irideth opted to leave him be. Making her slow, quiet way to the door and closing it behind her, she proceeded to drag herself to the kitchens.
She only realized she'd arrived earlier than usual when she saw that everyone was only prepping their stations. The girl felt herself tensing when she noticed the questioning looks shot her way; she did her best to ignore them and made her way over to Inga when she spotted the woman.
"Irideth! What are you doing here so early?" Inga said, almost dropping the eggs she was holding when Irideth pulled a chair over to the counter.
"I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep," Irideth said, pulling herself onto the chair and standing with effort. Inga looked askance at her but didn't say anything as Irideth began helping her prep several batches of pastry dough.
Murazor was quite impressed when Halla walked up to them; he, Adunaphel, Akorahil and Khamul had been speaking with Kamaal about supply chain issues with Nurn when they'd noticed the woman. Being close to him and the other wraiths was plainly unnerving to her; her hands were visibly shaking and her lips were bloodless.
Nevertheless, she dipped into a low curtsy, keeping her eyes lowered as was the protocol for a slave addressing nobles or high-ranking officers.
"Forgive me, my lords, for interrupting, but I would speak with you," Halla said, only a slight tremor in her voice. Murazor was aware of his subordinates backing away a little bit, movements fluid and quiet enough not to be noticed.
"Of course, Halla," Kamaal said, smiling. The woman relaxed at his easy tone. If Murazor had still been possessed of eyebrows, they would have ascended his also non-existent forehead; he hadn't been aware the two knew each other.
"I... believe there's something wrong with Irideth," Halla said, raising her eyes for a moment to gauge Kamaal's reaction.
None of them moved, but Murazor sensed the other wraiths' sudden spike of agitation, which mirrored his own, peripherally. Kamaal made no effort to hide his concern.
"What makes you think so, Halla?" the man asked, voice quiet but plainly worried.
"She has been... moving oddly for the past fortnight or so; at least, that is when I first noticed it, but it has recently gotten worse. She's almost like a wooden doll, as though moving her joints pains her," Halla said. "She has not been as talkative as she usually is, either, and I don't think she's been eating or sleeping well, if at all. She seems exhausted all the time, and Inga told me this morning even her speech seems slowed."
'Does that sound like any illness you are familiar with?' Murazor asked Akorahil.
Akorahil was quiet for long enough that his fellows' hooded heads all turned toward him, startling their human companions.
'…Nothing physical comes to mind,' Akorahil replied after several moments.
'…But?' Khamul prompted.
'Well, severe or prolonged mental or emotional strain has been observed to present physical symptoms like the ones Halla described,' Akorahil said.
'Oh!' Murazor almost jumped at the force of Adunaphel's epiphany. Once he focused on her train of thought, though, he felt rather foolish for not having realized it sooner.
"It has been roughly a year since her capture," he said out loud, visibly startling the humans. "I am uncertain whether Irideth recognizes this or not; however…,"
Halla's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness, you're right! Oh, the poor girl!" Suddenly remembering who she was addressing, the woman's gaze dropped to the floor again while Kamaal looked distinctly pained.
Silence reigned; no one had any idea how to pursue the topic.
It became a bit of a non-issue when another slave- Inga, if Murazor remembered correctly- all but ran up to them, curtsying hastily before turning her focus to Halla.
"Halla, I… the other girls and I, we think Irideth's in trouble…,"
"Yes, Inga, we've just been discussing that," Halla said, low and urgent, casting a furtive glance at Kamaal and the wraiths.
Inga took a deep breath. "No, not that… it's… Nafal, he's been hanging around the kitchen for the past hour…,"
"What?" Halla said, turning her head sharply toward the younger woman.
Inga swallowed. "He said something about not having time to go to the mess… ridiculous, of course, we all knew that. He always seemed to make his way over to Irideth's end of the kitchen. We kept him away from her as best we could, but the way he was watching her… she had to go to the storerooms; we thought he hadn't noticed, he was looking the other way, but then a few minutes later he was gone! Not one of us saw or heard him leaving, and Irideth isn't back…," Inga took another deep breath, sounding close to tears. "Halla, you know he serves Basaam, what they do to their younger slaves, especially the females…,"
Murazor did not need to hear any more to know where this was going, and judging by the alarm he could feel in his subordinates, neither did they.
'Find her,' he told them. 'Quickly!'
Being grabbed from behind had done a marvelous job banishing the heaviness from Irideth's limbs.
When she opened her mouth to scream, a hand clapped over the lower half of her face, and Irideth found herself being pinned against someone's chest.
She kicked and thrashed, uttering muffled cries as she was carried she wasn't sure where; she tried to twist around and get a look at her attacker, but he- judging by the build, the person was male- had her almost completely immobilized.
Irideth's heart almost stopped when she was dragged into a darkened room, lit by only a few sparse candles.
The girl almost stopped breathing when she was able to discern a desk at the far side of the room, and leaning against it, the shadowed form of Minister Basaam.
The tiny smirk curling the corners of his mouth sent a shock of cold dread shooting through her limbs, her whole body beginning to tremble. She knew that look, had seen how his slaves reacted to it. Oh, Valar, no!
"No one saw you?" Basaam said, quiet but no less menacing for it, as he stepped forward. Irideth heard her captor chuckle.
"No." Nafal, of course. "Little scum was practically dragging her feet. Was easier than grabbing a flightless bird."
Basaam made a tutting sound, pulling something… a stock whip, Irideth realized with a chill… from his belt, placing the tip of the handle beneath her chin as Nafal released her mouth, forcing her head up. "I'd have thought laziness, at least, would have been beaten out of you by now, slave."
Irideth's throat burned, heat flooding her blood just as quickly as the cold had before. And I'd have thought you would be more sensible.
"Please, my lords, I must return to the kitchens before I am missed," she said; it took no effort to make her voice tremble. "Lord Sauron will be angry with me if I…,"
She cried out when Basaam struck her sharply across the face with the whip, the sudden, harsh sting bringing tears to her eyes. "You do not speak unless asked, girl," the man said, as if he was reprimanding a dog. Apparently the threat of his Lord's ire wasn't enough to put him off; either that or he didn't think Sauron would care that someone else was manhandling his slave, in which case he was obscenely stupid.
Irideth flinched away when Basaam grabbed her chin, gritting her teeth to keep from making a sound when he dug his fingers very deliberately into her injured right cheek.
The heat in her throat expanded into her chest; her blood burned.
Moving impossibly fast, Irideth jerked her head out of the man's grip and sank her teeth into the offending hand, feeling the skin break a moment before the metallic taste of blood swept over her tongue.
Basaam yelled in pain before spitting several curses and trying to pull his hand free. Irideth bit down harder, twisting her head viciously to the side, practically tearing the back of his hand open before letting go and throwing her head back into Nafal's nose.
Irideth was promptly dropped, as she'd hoped. She managed to land on her feet, but was so off balance she toppled sideways, catching herself on her right arm.
She had pushed herself up and turned to run for the door when her left arm was seized in a vice grip and she was yanked backward with brutal force.
Irideth screamed as a stabbing, searing pain jack-knifed through her upper arm, an awful grinding noise seeming to reverberate through the inside of her skull. She didn't have time to process much else as she was lifted and thrown backward as though she weighed nothing.
The breath was driven from her lungs when her side and head struck the desk Basaam had been leaning on. Irideth saw stars; knife-like pain lanced through the right side of her chest, worst around the lower ribs. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream when the recoil from the impact sent her rolling onto her left arm, the pain sending black spots dancing across her vision and making bile rise in her throat.
Irideth managed to roll onto her back, shaking, breathing ragged, ears ringing, eyes unfocused. Vaguely she could hear her attackers cursing; she couldn't discern the words, until…
Irideth turned her head to the left when she heard approaching footsteps; she recognized Basaam immediately, a hollow feeling growing in her stomach at the twisted look on his face.
"I will make you pay dearly for that, you insolent little witch!" he hissed. Irideth tensed, rolling onto her side and curling into a ball as best she could, screwing her eyes shut and bringing her uninjured arm up to cover her head when she saw him raising the whip.
"Will you now?"
Everyone froze. Irideth's eyes opened, widening further when her gaze found the door.
Sauron's beguiling smile was completely belied by his voice; smooth and soft as it usually was, but Irideth had no problem detecting the coldness beneath his words. She was used to him presenting a suggestion of menace whenever he was displeased with his servants, but now… his hair looked almost like living flames, and his eyes, instead of their usual soft glow, appeared almost lit from within by a fire of their own. They were more red than amber, Irideth noted, and the look in them promised bloodshed.
Eru, he was furious.
Irideth checked the link when the Dark Lord stepped further into the room. Sauron was blocking it, she realized quite quickly, which was why she hadn't sensed him coming. It was also the only reason she wasn't terrified out of her mind; sensing his rage from a distance was bad enough.
Basaam, meanwhile, appeared to have snapped out of his own stupor and moved to kneel. A flick of Sauron's wrist had the man flying across the room, slamming into the far wall hard enough that Irideth could hear the air leaving his lungs quite clearly despite her ringing ears. She carefully moved her right arm from its defensive position to be able to see better. The girl blinked in confusion when she saw Nafal lying on the floor near Basaam's prone form, clutching his left arm and bleeding from a wound to the head, face bloodless and twisted in a pained grimace.
How had that happened? Irideth didn't remember seeing or sensing Sauron make any move against him. Had she hit her head harder than she'd thought?
"What, in all of Arda, gave you the idea that you could touch my slave?" Sauron said, voice still soft but considerably colder, advancing slowly and purposefully toward the two men. Both drew back as much as they were able.
"M…my lord, forgive me," Basaam croaked, a steady trickle of blood flowing from his mouth. "The slave was…"
Sauron's gaze somehow became deadlier. "Do you think to lie to me, Basaam?" he purred, and somehow that was so much more terrifying than anything else Irideth could have imagined him doing.
Basaam was apparently of the same mind; he ducked his head, unable to meet the Dark Lord's eyes, trembling visibly. "Forgive me, my lord," he said again, voice barely more than a whisper.
Sauron was now standing over the two men. He smiled, showing far too many teeth for it to be considered anything but predatory. "No. I don't think I will."
Faster than Irideth's eyes could track, Sauron reached down and seized Basaam by the throat, hauling him upward as easily as he would a feather, holding the man so his eyes were level with the Dark Lord's. Basaam gave a strangled scream, both hands wrapping around Sauron's wrist in an instinctive attempt to ease the no doubt choking grip. Sauron's hold only tightened, his clawed gauntlets digging deep into the man's neck and drawing blood. Irideth felt a thrill of horror when she noticed the blisters forming beneath Sauron's hand, smelled charred hair and burning skin.
A sudden chill, made all the more noticeable by the heat of Sauron's rage, drew Irideth's attention back toward the door. She was just in time to see Murazor and several other wraiths entering, their pace seeming rather hurried. Akorahil, who had entered just behind his Captain, immediately made his way over to Irideth, followed closely by Adunaphel and Ren.
Another horrid scream from Basaam sent a chill down Irideth's spine and she flinched despite the pain, eyes moving toward the noise instinctively.
"Don't look," Akorahil said softly as he knelt beside her, gently supporting her head while Adunaphel carefully rolled her onto her back. "What hurts?"
Irideth blinked, taking a moment to catalog things. There was a throbbing pain at the top of her left arm, an inch or two below the shoulder; everything below that was almost numb. She tried flexing her fingers experimentally. The action sent a sharp pain through the injured area, and as far as Irideth could tell her fingers hadn't moved much, if at all. Breathing hurt; every inhalation was accompanied by a jagged pain in her right side, most prominent near the lower ribs. Her head was pounding, her vision was blurred, and judging by the wetness she could feel on the side of her face and the tang at the back of her throat, her nose and a cut somewhere on her head were both bleeding.
Irideth swallowed. "I think my left arm is broken. Just below the shoulder," she managed, voice ragged and scarcely more than a whisper. "Breathing… my chest hurts. I can't see very well; my head hurts."
"Yes, that looks like quite the blow to the head you took," Akorahil muttered, half to himself. "You likely have a minor concussion. Are your ears ringing? Any nausea?"
Irideth nodded as best she could.
"Minor concussion, then. Can you move your left hand at all?" Akorahil asked.
"Not really," Irideth answered, wincing internally at the thinness of her voice. "I…,"
Everything suddenly tilted violently sideways. Irideth blinked rapidly, letting herself go completely limp in an effort to stabilize things. The spinning only got worse, the ringing in her ears becoming deafening before the world faded to black.
Sauron was still seething when he entered the healing wing; even the most senior healers all but scrambled out of his way as he headed toward one of the smaller rooms in the back.
The nerve of Basaam! The sheer, utter temerity of the minister and that impudent assistant of his, to even think of laying a hand on something that belonged to him! His personal slave, no less!
Sauron was very pointedly ignoring the memory of the unpleasant feeling in his stomach when he'd seen Irideth on the floor, face covered in blood, curled into a ball in an effort to protect herself from a man more than twice her size…
Sauron growled in annoyance as he flicked away a spot of flame that had ignited in his hair.
No. He was not going there.
The Dark Lord was distracted enough that he almost didn't notice Uvatha, Indur, Adunaphel and Akorahil exiting the door he was approaching. He stopped briefly when they bowed, then moved forward when they stepped aside.
'Join the others,' he ordered as he moved past them. 'I will be with you when I am finished here.'
He sensed no small amount of glee as the wraiths set off purposefully for the dungeons. Sauron smiled, rather darkly, as he stepped through the door, closing it behind him with a small wave of his hand.
His smile faded, being replaced by a study of blankness when his eyes found Asha, who was pulling a blanket over a sleeping Irideth. There were bandages wrapped around the child's head, and the dried blood on them did not escape his notice.
The orc glanced up when she heard the door shut. She immediately began listing her patient's injuries. "Her left humerus is fractured an inch or so below the shoulder; I've wrapped it in a make-shift cast for now. She's mildly concussed. She woke up for a few minutes after the wraiths brought her in and was quite confused, but seemed to remember at least the gist of what happened after a minute or so. It's difficult to say how much of that is due to the injury and how much is the effect of the overall trauma. There's a nice gash on the right side of her head, but it doesn't need stitches, thankfully. I believe some of the lower ribs on her right side are cracked, and she may have a bruised lung."
Sauron was fairly certain he could hear his teeth creaking, his jaw was clenched so hard. Noticing the way Asha was looking at him, he took a quiet breath and forced his muscles to relax.
"Rest assured, Asha, it is not her I am angry with," he said, much softer than he would have thought himself capable at the moment. "How long do you estimate it will take her to recover?"
"She's young; the bones will heal relatively quickly. Her ribs will probably take two to three weeks, the arm will likely take a bit longer, I'd estimate between three and five weeks. I'm going to keep her here overnight to monitor her. I'll probably have to change her bandages at least one more time today. I'll have her come in every day for a while so I can check the head injury and change them as necessary, or have Akorahil do it," Asha said. "I have her on some fairly strong painkillers; she'll be asleep for most of the day."
Sauron nodded in acknowledgement. "Leave us, Asha."
The healer's eyes widened momentarily, but she nonetheless bowed her head and made her way quietly past Sauron to the door.
The Maia didn't move until he heard the door click shut. He moved to the head of Irideth's bed, doing nothing but study her for several moments.
He didn't like the way she looked like this. She looked so small, so… fragile. Why were humans so breakable?
Sauron felt a wry smile creeping over his face before he could stop it. It wasn't really something that had bothered him before. Humans were just beneath his notice, for the most part. Some of them were useful to him, or interesting, but he didn't care for them. Well, the Nine had grown on him after a while, admittedly. But this was a child,a slave. She was certainly interesting, but she wasn't integral to any of his plans.
Yet. He hadn't determined the significance of her lack of a soul, the silence of her Music. If nothing else, it might provide some useful insights. The girl was an experiment; that was all.
A sudden pressure at the front of his skull drew Sauron's attention to his still-blocked bond with the child. He looked down at Irideth; her head had turned just slightly toward him, and her expression was mildly pained.
Sauron unblocked the link, slowly so as not to wake the girl. He wasn't surprised that what little he could discern was muddled; she was in a drugged sleep. But she could apparently still feel the pain of her injuries, dull though it was. And there was definitely fear lurking at the edges of her consciousness, half-visible nightmares only fueled by the memories that pain brought.
Sauron had reached forward almost before he'd realized it, gently cupping the side of Irideth's face in his hand as he wove a calming spell around her, accompanied by a pulse of soothing energy across the bond.
'Shh, little one. You are safe now,' he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His effort was rewarded when the child relaxed, the turmoil in her mind becoming almost nonexistent. Sauron used another inflection of power to push her into a deeper sleep before stepping back, closing the bond again as he turned for the door.
He could feel his anger rising again as he left the healing wing. He was barely conscious of the sparks igniting in his hair. A snarl threatened to take over his face. He had torn through Basaam and Nafal's minds before ordering Murazor and Hoarmurath to toss them in a cell; he knew what they'd intended to do to the girl, and he suspected the Nazgûl did as well.
He did hope the wraiths had left their minds mostly intact; he wanted Basaam awake and aware when he flayed the skin from his back. Maybe he would use heated knives on the chest… he hadn't done that in a while.
Neither man would be leaving the dungeons alive.
And likely not in one piece, either.
So, yeah, darker chapter with a darker ending. Basaam and Nafal are pedophilic creeps and are totally going to pay for it. I feel no remorse about that. I suck unbelievably at writing torture scenes, so I cut that bit out (pun not intended), but I did want to hint at some of Sauron's more sadistic tendencies. He is still a Dark Lord, and as the name 'Gorthaur the Cruel' implies, he's supposed to be a very skilled torturer.
