Hollowed cheeks, gaunt frame spoke of iron control and wild helplessness, the faint taste of bile lingered at the back of her throat. Beauty was fickl..., the slender frame now skeletal, ravaged by years of starvation and her skin sagged on her dejectedly, the lines that burrowed into her brow premature. Rumpled clothing, the kind that one bought in the attempt to feign wealth, in cut that nearly draped beautifully, save for the cheap cloth and subtle imperfection, clung in silent witness to the. The Orc entered behind him, fastening the flap shut and bending double in order to move about in what to her was a cramped space.There was a large pile of pelts on the ground that obviously served as her bed, bear or wolf maybe. He ran his fingers through the material, enjoying the sensation of the silky fur on his fingertips. It was a far cry from the straw-stuffed mattresses he was accustomed to sleeping on at the monastery.He heard clanking metal and turned to see Gharol removing the iron. More

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