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An acrid odor was the first thing she was aware of. As she opened her eyes, the dim torchlight gave her an ankle high view of her surroundings. There was a single torch somewhere on the wall abover her. She could tell from the flickering light, that this was a place of torture. Various instruments were lined neatly on the low shelf on the wall closest her. Stacked almost like floweres in a pot, very close to her face, were some objects she had never seen before, and this frightened her a little. What purpose could they serve? Tying to lift her head, her face peeled from the pitch covered plank floor. She realized that the pitch must be the smell. A flood of memories came back to her.. She had been in the forest outside Aberon, waiting for her contact...

It was a lazy, sunny day. She was nervous, as she knew that the orkish patrols were still on the hunt for her. A slight, warm breeze blew through the Aspen trees above her,It tickled the small hairs at the nape of her neck, sending goosebumps down her arms. The warm sun, seemed to hang in one place for hours, as she sat and waited. Fatigue and malnourishment were finally starting to take their toll. It had been 8 days since she had eaten, and her stomach felt as if it were going to swallow itself. She tried to close her eyees and think of home. FAmiliar faces, places, things. She must have dozed off, because when she awoke, the sounds of the Orkish patrol, were very close. How could I have let this happen?, she thought to herself. gathering her things quickly, she was just about to run deeper into the trees, when on the ground in front of her was a shadow. She looked up, just in time to feel the heavy blow of a staff across the back of her head, and to see the outline of an Ork captain. Tehn there was a blinding light, and then there was..

She struggled to try and remember what had happened next. She seemed to remeber, being dragged somewhere. Then there was food, if you could call it that. Pain, and rage crept into her heart as the memory of the repeated "visits" from the fatman's mercenaries came back to her.

The pain in her was replaced with horror, as the dread circumstances for her became clearer in her mind.
As of this moment, she was feeezing cold, naked, chained to a floor Elara knows where. As if things weren't bad enough, she realized why she was awake. There were voices outside the door. Her pulse began to race, her breathing also sped up. "Surely the guards had gotten their fill", she thought as she heard the door creak on it's hinges.

The shock of the icecold seawater brought her back to consciousness once again. The stinging in the manyburns given to her, was only augmented by the saltiness of the water.

The fatman was again standing on one of her limbs, his great weight already starting to make her joints crackle and pop. With a smirk on his pale face, he said, "I'll ask you again spy, how many of the Guilds have their support?". With this, he put a little more weight on her already swollen arm. She cried out in pain, but he only increased the pressure..."Neevver!!.

This was how it had been for three hours now. It was starting to get hot in the tiny room., as was evidenced by the fatman's glistening, pallid features. Even Garfet, who was closest to the fire, was starting to pull at the edges of his uniform. Still chained to the floor, she could smeel her own blood in the seawater that had begun to pool around her. The
pain was starting to be more than she could stand. She could now hear the fatman whispering to Garfet. After nodding in compliance, the Orkish guard turned and picked an instrument out of the iron pot, and set it upon the hotly flaming brazier.

"Once again", said Argalio, "How many are there? And how have they planned their defenses?" With that he once again put
more of his massive weight on her limb. The pain was more than she could bear, and she cried "I don't know, for Elara's sake, I dont know.". The reply she got was the sound or her last good limb snapping under the fatman's massive foot.
More whispers, and Garfet, checked his tools, nodded once again to his master, and left the room. The fatman knelt, looked into the Elfess eyes, and told her, "It doesn't have to be this way. You have the opportunity now, to end all this. Just tell me what I want to know, & I will kill you swiftly." He pauses, seeming to drift elsewhere for a moment, then continues, "If not, it shall be not long, I reckon, before Garfet gets some answers from you." Words formed on the Elfess lips, but were incoherent , so the fatman leaned a little closer to hear. When he did, the Elfess spat
at his face, spouting something in Elvish that he was sure was not the answer he was looking for.

After wiping her spittle from his cheeck, he rose, turned as if to leave, and the kicked her in the ribs with his pudgy foot. The kick itself hurt very little in comparison to the jar that it caused to her broken limbs. She could not keep herself from yelping at the blow.With a look of satisfaction, the fatman turned and opened the door to the tiny room, and whispered something again berfore leaving. Garfet, who must have been close by, entered the room after his master had left. Shinarrt knew this, as she gotten to know the sound of his heavy, untimely booted walk quite well over the past days.

Agony wracked her with every fiber of her being as she lifted her head in time to see Garfet lift something from the brazier.
It appeared to be a rolling pin, but was made of iron, with wooden handles. The iron cylinder glowed brightly in places.

Unceremoniously, Garfet says, "I have not patience like my master". "You will give me answers now", was all she heard, as the searing, burning pain, crept up and down her back. After only moments though, the darkness of unconsciousness once again consumed her...........

"Clear the gunwales and ready the corvus!" Argalio shouts, keeping a keen eye on the
activties around him. The sea was swelling gently in stark contrast to the flurry of motion on
the deck of the ships. As the fatman rubbed the magic ointment over his nearly naked grotuesqly
obese form, he barked orders to the Lizardman sailors. They did their best to keep up with his orders, but the vollies of arrows from the vessel 10 meters to starboard kept tehm dodging and ducking. Meanwhile, the human, drow, and Orkish marines removed their shields from the ships railings and drew their weapons.

Lizardmen sailors lifted the massive, spiked plank to about 50 degrees and swung it around; pointing it towards the main deck of the other ship. Seeing this, Argalio turned to the helsman saying "On my mark, hard to starboard." Shouting something in the strange hissing sound of the Lizards, he ordered the
Lizardmen to ready their weapon.

Raising his hand to where the helmsman could see, he counted down on his fingers, then shouted "NOW!"
With that came immediately a great crash as the ship moved sharply and rubbed the side of the Lyrenzian schooner. A great creak, then the satisfying thud of the boarding plank prompted Argalio to grab his massive scimitars and run to the corvus.

After shouting orders to the marines, he motions to Garfet, saying "As soon as we're aboard, take three of you're best and secure the captains quarters." With this he shouted a shrill war cry and charged, nearly naked and skin all aglow, across the plank and into the waiting fray of sailors and soldiers.
His arms seemed to move faster than was possible for a man of this great size. As the scimitars whirled around him, they started to glow a Golden color, leaving streaks of light as they flew through the air.
Very shortly though the Gold was turned to a red aura, as the blood of those in his path sprayed in the air.
Tiny pieces of what was once several of their marines, now lay scattered on the deck. Blood spray had even managed to reach the bottom meter of the foresail. As the rest of the cargo vessel's crew and passengers watched in horror, two more were shredded in the swath of the fatman.

Just behind him, his own marines had boarded, and out of the corner of his eye, Argalio saw
Garfet make his way towards the quarterdeck. In front of him all the remaining crew had fallen back from the onslaught. Seeing this, he slowed his movement, and finally brought his scimitars down hard. Embedding them 5 or 6 centimeters in the deck at his feet. "Do you surrender?" he shouted.
From the the captains cabin he heard a squeal of pain, and turned to see the halfling captian of the vessel come out of the hatch, with Garfet behind him; Garfet's sabre piercing the captains small shoulder. A small twist of the sabre and the captain squealed again, and finally says, "Aye, we are at your mercy."

A quick kick to the halflings back by Garfet sent the halfling sprawling across the deck, smearing blood for almost a full meter. Argalio seemed to be amused by this, and waddled over to him. Bending down just enough to grab the Halflings hair, he stood up and held the small one out at arms length. Blood was still dripping from the fatman's strangely growing visage which gave him an almost clownish appearance. The halfling managed to tear his eyes away from the fatman long enough to see what was left of his crew, and the huge red stain that was still slowly spreading across the deck before everything went black.

Argalio ordered everyone aboard to be collared and chained below decks aboard the Leviathan .
As the remaining crew and passengers were shackled and brought to the corvus to be transferred, Argalio
kept a sharp eye out for his quarry. According to the information Garfet had managed to torture out of the Elf spy, a Lyrenzian official was supposed to be aboard. To capture such a worthy prize could ensure a foothold in Troll's Bane's marketplace and at the very least, a nice ransom could be gotten. He nwas just about to order his men to start searching belowdecks, when our of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, then felt the tickle at the back of his neck. A tickle he knew all too well. The feel of spells being charged....