Now or Never [Nida][June 3010]

Wyn
Ghosts of the Third Age

Renegade

Rat of Mordor

Posts: 155

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 1, 2017 21:25:54 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Wyn on Nov 1, 2017 21:25:54 GMT -5

“It is a shame you think all power as having to come from combat,”
"It does, at least around here," she replied evenly, "Try to challenge an uruk to a battle of wits, and all you'll get is a cleaver between the eyes." Surviving by your wits was possible in Mordor, she was proof of that, but that's all it would ever be--survival. She would never command the fear and respect an orc warchief received, or rule over the wilderness as the graugs and caragor packs did. She would never be more than a prowling, vicious pariah dog--dangerous to a degree, certainly, but incapable of causing any significant problems. In Mordor, might made right, and those without might were forced to make their living at the fringes. "But, perhaps things are different in lands without man-eating monsters ruling over them."

Wyn shook her head at the woman's question. "No. I've helped others find passage across the river, and I've heard of a great city to the west carved into the very mountains, but I've never left the wilderness." Truth be told, the concept of a large city was strange to her. The only settlements she had ever been in, besides the tiny port-towns dotting the river, were the fortresses and camps of the uruk. They were filthy, dangerous places, and she had spent a great deal more time in their alleys, rooftops, and battlements than on their streets, prowling in the gloom of dusk and dawn in search of supplies to steal and lone, unwary throats to cut. She had come to associate settlements with inherent danger, and the idea of a city, even one filled with Men instead of Uruk, was unsettling. She rolled her shoulders, shrugging the question off. "At any rate, I'm better suited for the wilds than I am for the city--but you could probably tell as much just by looking at me." A quiet, self-deprecating chuckle followed this, and she leaned against the stone behind her, falling quiet for a moment as she watched the rain come down. Thunder rumbled low overhead, but she could hear nothing else--no uruk bellows or warg howls. Perhaps they were safe for the time being.

"You all should rest while you can. We'll be moving again as soon as the rain lets up."

Amira
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 57
Application: https://image.ibb.co/gTZyDT/43c4c25031d89686c45ec086f55f79bb.jpg

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 2, 2017 6:41:14 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Amira on Nov 2, 2017 6:41:14 GMT -5

"But, perhaps things are different in lands without man-eating monsters ruling over them."

A wry, half-smile formed on Nida’s lips, though the expression did not reach her eyes. “Do not make the mistake of thinking these uruk are that much more depraved than men, Wyn,” she hummed, the tone dark, though even and quiet. “Men are often cruel, and perhaps that makes it worse, for they are capable of higher things.”

She had seen it in Haradwaith; glory was measured by how many other men one killed, how many widows they made, and how many orphans. Women were bound to their husbands for contract, as alliances, and rarely was their success measured by anything more than their children, and their husband’s prowess. Gondorians thought her people backward and cruel, but they too mustered their sons to make sweep attacks of the lands between their lands. War was a sport.

"No. I've helped others find passage across the river, and I've heard of a great city to the west carved into the very mountains, but I've never left the wilderness."

“Then it does exist,” Nida hummed in awe. She had never seen mountains before being hauled away to Nurn. Near Harad had been soft in shape, flat for long stretches, then rising and falling in golden dunes. The first time she had laid eyes on the jagged, rising peaks in the distance, she had thought it was the maw of a great beast. Perhaps she had not been fully correct in the way she had at first assumed, but Nida knew now that Mordor was a land of monsters, and the unforgiving mountain slopes were the bared fangs of the Dark Lord.

"At any rate, I'm better suited for the wilds than I am for the city--but you could probably tell as much just by looking at me."

“There are wolves among men, the same as the wilds,” Nida said. A few of the other slaves eyed her, unable to understand the abstractness of her statement, and she could see upon their faces the consideration as to how beasts, likely imagined as the prowling wargs the uruk of Mordor tamed and trained, were able to walk among great cities. She did not seek to explain; that was something best learned directly. “Perhaps you do not fit in among them because they can see you do not suffer fangs.”

"You all should rest while you can. We'll be moving again as soon as the rain lets up."

The idea of rest was sweet to the slaves now huddled on the ground beneath the rocky crag. It was their first act of freedom, in their minds, for the uruk had never hesitated to prevent them such simple care. Nida was last to settle, instead eyeing the falling rain outside the shelter’s mouth. Three years she had waited for this. Three years she had bided her time, awaiting the chance to fulfill the vow she mad.

Now she was on her way; this was the time to Proclaim.

Slowly, the woman lowered herself into a position to rest, though the contortion was uncomfortable, for there was no room for all of them to lay flat upon the ground. Still, she was so exhausted, it did not take long before Nida was asleep anyway.

Visions of golden sand, and familiar young faces played like ghosts through her dreams.

“Home is behind, the world ahead,
and there are many paths to tread
through shadows to the edge of night,
until the stars are all alight.”

Captains
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 66

Application: https://image.ibb.co/n8YYF7/post_3683_0_15547900_1445641373_2.jpg

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 2, 2017 9:48:04 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Captains on Nov 2, 2017 9:48:04 GMT -5

At the farm, the uruk were roaring, clambering out of the wood pilings and ripping the canvas tent as they raged to their feet. Loud, volatile blames were being tossed from one to the other, and they were soon followed by fists.

“What ya mean ya couldn’t smell the manflesh!?” The chief of the encampment declared in a growl.

“There ain’t no way ta smell one out here—there’s manflesh scent on e’rything, Lug!” Another hissed, his voice shrill and as sharp as his pointed, glinting teeth.

As if to accentuate the arguments and fights, a peal of thunder rumbled over the rocky crags and down into their stretch of land. Lug turned, eyeing the slaves left behind who were not brave enough to run, and their wide, fearful eyes marked him like prey. “Argug!” Lug bellowed.

A wiry, hunched orc fell instep beside him, pointed, crooked nose curling nearly to meet his chin with his grin. “Aye, Cap’n?”

“Lashings on the ones still here!” Lug growled. “Teach ‘em they shouldn’t’a let their worthless friends go!” Nobody was going to think that leaving was a good idea when he was done with them. Now, he just had to get the few that had bolted, skin them, and put their heads on pikes to remind them of what precisely running looked like when their whip-wounds had healed.

Argug laughed, the sound like scraping iron, and turned to begin to round the farmers together. Lug, though, was already turning and pulling his men apart. “I’m takin’ some of ya with me!” He roared. Five orcs stepped forward, once more gripping their cleavers and clubs. “We’re hunting ‘em down before this storm washes the whole trail away! Now get going, maggots!”

The orcs began to fall in step beside Lug, and they took off, into the rocky crags in chase. As they were approaching the outer rim of the farm, though, a small warg-riding party had appeared. “You Lug?” One asked. He was an average sized orc with red, bright eyes.

“What’s it to ya, worm?” Lug countered. He stopped his running, turning and lifting his large, chipped blade into the air.

“Name’s Moruk—Gruul sent me to get the food fer the raid on the horseland.”

Lug grunted, the sound long and drawn. “That’s gonna have ta wait,” he said, motioning to the crags. “Had some backs escape—need ‘em back ‘fore we can fill up your wagonload.”

Moruk frowned. Gruul was going to be unhappy if it took a while for them to track down these laborers. If Gruul was unhappy, he might get stuck with detail in the wastes again. “We’ll help. Wargs can track in rain longer than we can.” Moruk glanced over his shoulders, his two riding partners nodded. “They headed for the crags?”

“Hopefully the beasts didn’t get ‘em,” Lug growled as they all took off once more. “I want to skin ‘em myself.”

Wyn
Ghosts of the Third Age

Renegade

Rat of Mordor

Posts: 155

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 2, 2017 17:12:57 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Wyn on Nov 2, 2017 17:12:57 GMT -5

“Perhaps you do not fit in among them because they can see you do not suffer fangs.”
That had almost sounded like a compliment. She looked away from the rain to eye the woman, starting to like her despite her initial suspicions. "Perhaps that's true. Although, I have been told by one trader that there are trolls with better manners than I, so it may be best if I keep to the wilds."

As the refugees rested, Wyn kept vigil by the shelter's edge. Lulled by the music of the rain and thunder, she dozed, but sleep didn't take her in totality. She had learned to sleep light unless she was absolutely sure she was safe, and though they might have avoided danger for the moment, they certainly weren't safe. They wouldn't be, until they could find a better shelter and she could be sure they weren't being pursued.

The first time she heard the sound, it was so faint that for a moment, she thought she might have imagined it--a paranoid and stressed mind playing tricks on itself. Nonetheless, she roused herself and sat up, listening intently for any sounds above the staccato of the rain. She was sure she had heard something--and there it was again, a brief and distant noise. A bark? A bay? She had been hunted by wargs before, both wild and those with orcish riders, and she knew how they howled and snarled amongst eachother as they ran their prey down. A prickle of unease ran down her spine, and she half-stood, bent over to avoid smacking her head against the rock. Shuffling her way out of the overhang, she peered through the rain, looking down the gully towards the way they had come. She couldn't see anything yet, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Nida," she murmured, returning to the woman's side and attempting to rouse her with a gentle nudge to the shoulder, "we might need to go sooner than I thought. If you hear me shout, take the others and run." The handful of slaves that had accompanied them were beginning to wake up as well, roused by the disturbance, and several looked to Wyn in puzzlement. "What is it?" asked one, the same man who had joined with Nida in voicing concerns about Gondor.
"We might have company coming," she responded. "I'm going to go back a little ways and look. If they are after us, I'll see if I can't get us a head start." Her intent was to hide further up the canyon, where she would be able to see any approaching uruk--hopefully, without them seeing her. Their current shelter was easy-visible from the center of the gully, and if they remained here, they'd be seen for sure. "All of you, get out of sight. Hide behind those boulders on the other side of the gully," she said, gesturing to the nearby pile of rocks. "Better to be rained on than chased down."

She stepped carefully out once more and made her down back up the gully, hugging the walls and using the boulders and washouts strewn about to her advantage. The element of surprise wouldn't be worth much when it was one scrawny human against who knew how many orcs, but perhaps it would buy her a moment to think.

Amira
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 57
Application: https://image.ibb.co/gTZyDT/43c4c25031d89686c45ec086f55f79bb.jpg

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 2, 2017 18:40:34 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Amira on Nov 2, 2017 18:40:34 GMT -5

Nida could feel someone nudging her shoulder. They were saying her name and for a moment Nida did not remember where she was. It was not until the hurried whisper began to explain that they would have to leave sooner than they had imagined that she recalled Wyn, the escaped slaves, and the daring break they had made from the uruk’s farm. She sat up and snapped to attention quickly. Whatever urgency had spurred Wyn to seek them out before the storm had passed was most certainly not good news.

"We might need to go sooner than I thought. If you hear me shout, take the others and run."

“Run?” The woman repeated. “To where? You do not need to sacrifice for us, Wyn. Come with us,” Nida urged. “We will not know the way.”

The man, the one Nida knew had always been fond of details even in her tales of the desert, asked the question that perhaps nobody else really desired to know the answer to: what was coming. Though, perhaps it was better phrased as who. Apparently, the uruk were taking more readily to the storms than any of them had anticipated, likely due to the fire planted in their chests at Nida and her fellow laborer’s escape. Her mouth felt dry.

"All of you, get out of sight. Hide behind those boulders on the other side of the gully."

Nida followed Wyn’s motion, face grim with consideration. “As you say,” she hummed slowly, but as the other laborers from her camp flew into action, heading down the slope of rock, then back up, she turned to the cloaked rescuer. “Are you sure you do not need me?” Perhaps the young woman was reminding her a little of home. The palace wing she had made her bed in for years had been full of waifs and pained hearts like Wyn’s, Nida included. The only difference was Nida and her harem sisters were hidden behind masks of painted faces and rich, indulgent silks.

Wyn apparently either had not heard, or did not care to acknowledge her statement. With determination, Nida slipped out into the rain and made move to join the others huddled behind the rockpile at the top of the gully.

The rocks upon the path were slick, though, and about halfway through the climb, Nida lost her footing, and slid with a rough grind against her ragged clothes and skin halfway down once more. The woman bit her lip to keep from crying out against the stinging stone and rain. Hurriedly, she looked up, seeing her fellow refugees motioning to her with urgent gestures, looking beyond the Haradrim’s shoulders and down the rocky path. She knew they were afraid. If Nida, a mere woman, could smell the fear they left hanging in the air, she doubted that those uruk would be unable to. She hauled herself to her feet, fabric hanging heavy upon her shoulders and hips, and hair plastered like ink to her dark skin.

Nida could hear them: wolves, and heavy, iron boots pounding against stone. Slowly, she limped to turn and face them as they came, the blood upon her knee and stinging pain through her leg enough to tell her she would not be able to climb fast enough. Perhaps this was as far as she would make it. But she could die knowing she had tried to fulfill her vows, and maybe someone in Maalik’s court would become wise to Mordor’s plans.

Defiantly, she lifted her chin and adjusted her shoulders. “Run.” She told the other refugees. She did not look to see if they had gone, knowing that if she did their location would be given away.

Last Edit: Nov 2, 2017 18:40:47 GMT -5 by Amira

“Home is behind, the world ahead,
and there are many paths to tread
through shadows to the edge of night,
until the stars are all alight.”

Captains
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 66

Application: https://image.ibb.co/n8YYF7/post_3683_0_15547900_1445641373_2.jpg

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 2, 2017 18:56:34 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Captains on Nov 2, 2017 18:56:34 GMT -5

The rain was pouring buckets, and the wargs were growling, barking, and snarling between each other as their feet found their path through the slick array of rocky hazards. Behind the three warg riders, the uruk of the farm were attempting to keep stride, falling behind and in some cases succumbing to the wet, inhospitable terrain before having to stand and set off once more.

They were incredibly cantankerous now, and they were cursing the sky, the warg riders, and their chief in many colorful expressions shouted in the black speech. They were going to need to have a word with Lug; they wanted wolves of their own, and Lug was snarling enough that perhaps he would be amenable to indulging them long enough to listen.

“They ain’t findin’ nothin’ in this rain!” Lug cried out above the next peal of thunder.

“Tha wolves’re good,” another remarked, the sound almost lost amongst the patter of the falling floods. “We’ll have the flesh back soon, you’ll see.”

Lug did not appreciate the comment, and with a swing of his arm sent the mouthy orc flying with the back of his hand. With a cry, he fell from the ledge, the sound of his cries and impact lost amongst the storm. “If he survives the fall, we’ll kill ‘em on the way back,” Lug grunted That had at least raised the running orc’s spirits enough to continue to muster on.

Moruk’s wolf bayed, a snarl riding in the sound that marked the creature as something of Mordor and not the wolves of the western lands. “There!” Moruk declared. He could see ahead, even through the driving rain, that there was a single figure lifting themselves from the wet ground. “Is that one of them?”

Lug growled, lifting his lip in snarl and adjusting the hold on his cleaver. “That’s the maggot that sings,” he spat.

The rest of the orcs frowned. The dark-skinned woman’s music was worse than any torture they ever inflicted on the slaves; they had not been able to find an equivalent to counter with.

“You! Ya filthy maggot! Get down here. There ain’t no savin’ ya now!” Lug roared. “Where’re the rest of ya cattle?”

The woman merely held his gaze, silent in her defiance. Moruk drew his blade as well, and his warg snapped its jaws, the sound loud enough to be heard over the rest of the noise the orc party was raising.

“I know it ain’t just you that ran, cattle,” Lug threatened once more, shouldering his way up through the wargs. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll kill ya first and make it almost painless.”

Wyn
Ghosts of the Third Age

Renegade

Rat of Mordor

Posts: 155

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 2, 2017 22:25:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Wyn on Nov 2, 2017 22:25:05 GMT -5

Nida's concerns were noted, but hopefully would not come to pass. Wyn had no intention of dying today. She had played the part of decoy before, occupying a pursuit party's attentions while others slipped away, and she was prepared to do that now if it came to it. She was no fighter, true, but she was quick on her feet, and knew how to stay just out of reach, taunting her foes and keeping their fury focused on her rather than the slaves they should have been retrieving. Uruk were vicious, but they were also stupid and predictable--most of them were, anyway--and she knew how to exploit that.

Plans had an annoying tendency to go astray, however.

She pressed herself against the soaked rock face as the sounds of baying wargs and ironshod boots drew closer, hand straying down to brush the knife sheathed at her side as if to reassure herself that she wasn't defenseless. Wrapped in her cloak, she was difficult to pick out from the rocks and lichen surrounding her, but it was by no means a foolproof disguise. She forced herself to remain still as the hunting party finally rounded about the gully's winding path, coming into view through the rain. There were five or six on foot, as far as she could guess, and an additional three riding wolfback. She gritted her teeth, wondering where they had come from--there had been no warg riders at the farm. Maybe they had been nearby and were drawn by the commotion? Regardless of their origins, she'd have to deal with them as well as the soldiers on foot. A human, even a malnourished slave, had at least a chance of outpacing an orc, but wargs were built for the chase and could run for miles.

She glanced towards the rocks where the slaves were hidden, hoping desperately that they had managed to conceal themselves. Maybe, if they were lucky, the hunters would go right past them.

Or maybe one of them would get stuck out on the rocks and be seen.

Wyn's blood went cold as the orcs' ruckus increased, a sure sign that they had caught sign of the figure atop the boulders. It was Nida, she realized, standing defiant against both uruk and storm. She was about to curse the woman's foolishness when she saw the dark slash across her leg, and realized why she had been too slow to hide with the others. Rather than attempt a last desperate scramble for safety, she had chosen to face death head-on.

She racked her brain for a solution to what seemed like certain tragedy. She couldn't let her or the others die, but if she tried to take the entire warband on herself, she'd be slaughtered--and so would they, once the orcs caught up with them. She needed to draw their attention away from Nida without immediately being torn to pieces herself.

Memories rose of another time she had been cornered and facing death, and with, inspiration. Taking a breath and cursing herself for the utter stupidity of what she was about to attempt, she stepped out of hiding and, doing her best to appear formidable and intimidating, stalked towards the assembled orcs. <"What business you have harassing spy?"> she demanded, her voice pitched to carry through the rain as she tried to remember what little Black Speech she knew. The language was coarse and growling, suited more for an orc's throat than a humans, but she managed a passable rendition of it, even if she had a feeling her grasp of the language wasn't perfect. Coming to a halt several feet away (she didn't quite have the nerve to get up in their faces) she stood with arms crossed and a fierce glower on her face. <"This woman is Easterling, maggot-brain. We are allies of Dark Lord, and you are keeping us from mission.">

Amira
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 57
Application: https://image.ibb.co/gTZyDT/43c4c25031d89686c45ec086f55f79bb.jpg

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 3, 2017 8:15:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Amira on Nov 3, 2017 8:15:05 GMT -5

“I know it ain’t just you that ran, cattle. Tell me where they are, and I’ll kill ya first and make it almost painless.”

Nida did her best to keep her face serene, severe, and free of any hint that her heart was battering her ribs like a drum. She was not sure she would be able to do succeed, though, for the rain was dripping from their raised black-iron weapons, so there was little imagination needed to paint it red. “I am not the only one who ran,” she agreed. “But I fell behind. They are long gone.” She motioned to her leg and the blood upon it, and prayed they were willing to believe the wound was older than the mere moments it was.

“It seems those raised under your whip have similar loyalties,” she added curtly.

It looked like the orc was going to say something, but a strange exclamation crossed the gully, and Nida looked to find Wyn storming forward. Was that the language of the uruk she was using? Nida had not been able to pick up much beyond basic commands, though she could communicate with them well enough with the Westron she had learned while in Near Harad.

<"What business you have harassing spy?">

She glanced from Wyn to the uruk, wondering what it was the young woman was saying.

<"This woman is Easterling, maggot-brain. We are allies of Dark Lord, and you are keeping us from mission.">

Again Wyn spoke, and the tone remained forceful and angry. Nida examined the way she had planted herself, the defiant, authoritative spread of her stance, the scowl that peeked through her hood. She had seen Maalik use such body language in courts; Nida crossed her arms as if cued, looking back to the group of orcs with much the same fire. She did not know what words she was weaving, but it would be no favor to either of them if Nida herself looked confused.

“Home is behind, the world ahead,
and there are many paths to tread
through shadows to the edge of night,
until the stars are all alight.”

Captains
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 66

Application: https://image.ibb.co/n8YYF7/post_3683_0_15547900_1445641373_2.jpg

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 3, 2017 8:50:50 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Captains on Nov 3, 2017 8:50:50 GMT -5

Moruk’s warg snapped it’s jaws once more as the dark-skinned manflesh spoke. Perhaps it was the strange accent the woman carried that made the beast angrier, or maybe it was the tone. Moruk himself could not say. He had not heard words like hers before. Or, rather, the harmony in the words. Where had this cattle come from, he wondered.

“It seems those raised under your whip have similar loyalties.”

Lug howled a laugh, the sound a mockery of levity. “Ya think I’m a fool, meat?” He growled. “Ain’t no way they got far. Not through these rocks and rains!”

He was stepping forward, cleaver now prepped and measured. Bootfall by bootfall.

<"What business you have harassing spy? This woman is Easterling, maggot-brain. We are allies of Dark Lord, and you are keeping us from mission.">

The uruk’s attention flew to Wyn, and while Lug’s face seemed surprised in a disbelieving way, Moruk’s though was surprised in recognition. “That ain’t no Easterling,” Lug declared roughly. “That maggot’s been cattle for us for three seasons!”

Moruk frowned, looking at Lug with bitter red eyes. “You idiot!” He snarled. “Don’t you recognize the allies when you see one?”
“Allies!?” Lug roared. “This is the rat that freed those cattle!”

“Then you failed the test!” Moruk said. His three warg riders nodded emphatically. “This is an agent of His will! She tested our camp and we passed inspection.”

Lug looked at him in disbelief and turned away from Nida a moment to point emphatically at Wyn with his cleaver. “You ain’t no Easterling, manflesh!” He declared.

Wyn
Ghosts of the Third Age

Renegade

Rat of Mordor

Posts: 155

Now or Never [Nida][June 3010] Nov 3, 2017 13:15:17 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Wyn on Nov 3, 2017 13:15:17 GMT -5

She had dared a glance over towards Nida as she approached the orcs, and was pleased to note that she was playing along, even if she likely wasn't sure exactly what was going on. She had copied Wyn's posture with an ease that suggested she was used to wielding (or at least being in the presence of) authority. Interesting. She had no time to mull on that, however, as the uruk were now all looking to her. One of the wargs snarled viciously and took a step forward, held back from springing upon her only by the rider's clout upon its head. The orc at the front of the trio, however, seemed to be looking at her with more surprise than hostility. She rarely paid attention to the faces of every uruk she encountered, and most of them tended to blend together in her mind. Unless it was a captain or other particularly-dangerous orc that she would do well to avoid, there wasn't much point in remembering every brute she crossed paths with. This red-eyed fellow stood out as strangely familiar, however, and when he berated the burly orc from the farm, she realized why.

She had never been particularly religious, but if there was a higher power out there, perhaps it was smiling on her for once.

Doing her best to look aloof and annoyed by the orcs' bickering, despite her heart beating a mile a minute, she nodded haughtily at the red-eyed orc's declaration, letting him do the talking for the moment while she tried to think of a way for them to get away with their lives. The burly orc was unconvinced, however, and wasted no time in pointing out the glaring holes in her cover. Though there was no outward change in her expression, she cringed inwardly, realizing that she might have just made a dire mistake in revealing herself. Perhaps she could pass off the escape as a failed "test", jumping on what the rider had said, until the burly one growled, most adamantly, that she was in fact not an Easterling.

Uh oh.

<"T-then what am I, if not Easterling?"> she challenged with a slight stammer in her voice. <"I know your tongue, I carry your Master's will."> That was a massive lie, of course. <"And I not orc, so I must be Easterling, yes? Nothing else I could be without being killed as soon as I set foot in your lands."> It was shaky logic at best, but she'd do her best to sell it and hope that these orcs weren't capable of holding more than one thought in their head at a time. Gesturing towards Nida again, she added, <"This woman is Easterling spy. She--uh--was sent to live among the slaves, look for signs of rebellion, yes. I would give them an opportunity to escape, to see if they would take it. And they did."> She gave the burly orc a scathing look. <"And you let it happen. The Master will hear of your failure.">