In the meantime...

[Kelewen]

She no longer struggled, only gritted her teeth against the pain radiating in her wrist. Better to save her strength for when resistance might prove useful.

For what foul purposes was the elven scout permitted to live? Velatha, even as she was jarred and jostled being carried along by the loathsome creatures, could not help but ponder why they had not gutted her then and there. Unfortunately, any explanation she could concoct left her contemplating how she could take her own life before their plans could be fulfilled.

[Assallya]

Ratharr strode along in a half crouch, leading those carrying the leaf eating she-elf. They ascended and descended the hills, occasionally slipping around the crown of some that drew up too steeply. Wrapped in the dozen arms bearing her Velatha was inundated with their unwashed bodily odours. Ratharr led the men in a chant, chewing a small bit of a hallucinogenic root as they made their way back to the fortification.

[OOC: Sorry, I don't know what the you have in mind for the vile spell caster nor what his lair looks like. You can establish the new scene.]

[Kelewen]

To distract herself from the foul odors filling her nostrils and the pain in her broken wrist, Velatha was doing her best to take careful note of the path on which they carried her. They headed mostly north, traveling for several hours in this manner and venturing into territory not well known by the elven scout.

Dusk was beginning to descend and, for a short time, Velatha almost missed the change in the landscape, attributing it to the falling darkness. But the forest took on an unhealthy look, the autumn foliage of a few miles past slowly replaced by barren branches, as if winter already had a grasp on the region.

Almost inexplicably, fear took a stronger hold on the woman and she shuddered even before their destination came into view. The tower poked it's head above the trees and the elf's sense of dread only increased at the sight of the oddly shaped tower. And, as if their approach had been observed, the door creaked open as the orcs drew near and out stepped a small, manish creature with a heavy coin purse hanging from his belt.

The thing eyed the bound elf greedily before looking to Ratharr since he was in the lead. "How much, how much?" he asked, obviously anxious to have her.

[Assallya]

Ratharr's head twitched, tilting suddenly to the side, causing the severed head suspended over his own to dance on the end of its tether. His breath hissed through his jagged file sharpened teeth and he shuffled his bare feet. Grabbing the young elf's head by the hair he tilted her head up towards the black magister. The fact her head hung upside down was not of import to the orcish ranger. He merely wished to display his wares. Caressing her jawline first he then tapped gently at her throat as if demonstrating it was both taut and the elf was young.

"Elf. Same," he hissed simply, his common tongue broken, "same other one."

Idly he caressed his pick, fingers doting on the owlbear beark. He was eager, most eager to be paid.

"Grimrot want. Ratharr want."