There Will Be Blood

[Orin Evans]

Orin rode silently towards the castle. What could he really say to the man who he claimed to be dead and was actually captured for a year? He honestly didn't know what he could say.  Luckily, they would have the distraction of the Saelisian prisoner to keep them occupied and not have to talk about it. 
What made him feel worse about it all, was that he hadn't liked Eoin, and he never really gave him a chance.  He just knew that his and Alexandria's relationship had happened quickly and they were rushing into marriage without fully knowing one another. And that Eoin couldn't give him a decent enough response as to why he loved his sister and wanted to marry her.  It was none of his business, he had said.  But Alexandria was every bit of his business.

When they arrived at the castle, Orin first stopped at the stables, handing his horse off to the workers there.  He urged Eoin to do the same before he would lead him into the castle and down to the dungeons.  

The dungeons were cool, dimly lit and quiet. A guard sat by the entrance and Orin offered a nod to the man.  "We are here to see the Saelisian prisoner..."  The guard nodded and unlocked the main entrance of the dungeons and pointed out the cell that the man was in.  Orin looked to Eoin and offered him a nod.   He would let him go in first, but he would be right behind the man.  

[for Eoin Rodain]

[Eoin Rodain]

The silence was necessary. In fact, it was better that Orin didn't try and make any small talk because Eoin was falling deep into his own thoughts. The very thing that Nemeris was worried about was threatening to take hold, and it was all he could do to keep himself reined in. He had to concentrate on what was about to happen, what needed to be done. Saelis was either on their way or would be, and they needed to know when as well as the number of the enemy. Any other information was a bonus.
The thing was, though, Eoin had never tortured a soul before. He'd killed numerous men...but never this. Why was he suddenly so hellbent on doing it? Why did he think he was going to be capable of it? It was that hatred and vengeance that spurred him on, and it would blind him were he not careful. He supposed Orin would stop him if things got too out of hand.
Then again...maybe he wouldn't.

Leaving Nomad with the stable hand, he followed the queen's brother through the castle and towards the cold cells below. Just being there made him feel isolated and claustrophobic, despite the Aralorian dungeons managing to be more open than the one he had been kept in. Still, his eyes squinted, attempting to adjust to the sudden darkness below before they came to the Saelisian prisoner's cell. Orin was giving the go ahead, and there was only a moment of hesitation before Eoin opened the barred door to step inside.
The man was huddled in the corner, propped up against the wall. He'd been here for a few weeks by the look and smell of him, and his patience already long gone. Good. Maybe he'd break easier. Grey eyes drifted around, spotting the chain and shackles that dangled from the ceiling, lowered and risen by a pulley, but the man wasn't bound at the moment.

"I hear-" the ranger began, casually striding in as he withdrew the knife from his belt. His gaze did not turn towards the Saelisian, already knowing he was not one of the many who had tortured him. Not that it mattered. He eyed the glinting blade in his hand, twirling it around idly as though assessing the perfect balance of it. "The skin...right under the fingernails is very sensitive." Something in the tone of his voice made it clear that he knew this from firsthand experience.
There was no concern as he knelt down right in front of the man then, who was glaring at him with an unsure expression; gaze flickering between Eoin and that blade. Was he insinuating what he was going to do?
Eoin barely blinked, that steel a flash in the firelight as he brought the knife down against the Saelisian's hand that had been on the stone floor, holding him up. The tips of his middle and pointer fingers were severed right off, immediately causing the man's screams to echo loudly inside that cell. "That is so you understand...that when I make a threat, I'm not bluffing." The words were hissed, growled deep within his throat before he rose up to his feet. "Help me get him up," he directed at Orin as he busied himself pulling the shackled chain down from the ceiling. They were going to cuff him, with his arms behind him.

[Orin Evans]

Orin stood outside the prisoner's cell, listening and watching as Eoin approached the man.  Part of him expected Eoin to do some talking, and perhaps ease his way into things.  But no, he was already cutting the man's fingertips off.  The scream of the man slightly startled Orin, only because he wasn't expecting that quite so soon.  

From what he did know about Eoin, he was a kind and patient man, and he had a feeling he was about to see a different side of him now. 

As Eoin was suddenly calling for him to help him get the prisoner up, he moved into the cell and quickly lifted the man from under his shoulders, picking him up off the floor and dragging him over to where the shackles were.  He held the man up, so that Eoin could get the shackles on the man and he would wait until they were on before he'd let the man go and stand in front of him.  

"Who sent you here?" Orin growled at the man. But that would be all he would ask for now.  He would let Eoin take the lead in this...And simply observe and listen, in case Eoin had become too focused in the task that he'd forget to listen.  

[Eoin Rodain]

He was no longer going to be a patient man. There was no more room for patience because of the importance of this subject. If he and Orin didn't figure out what they were up against, they'd be going about this war blindly...and they couldn't have that. It was too much of a risk to simply hope to fortify what they could and brace for the impact. Aralore would not survive it. Eoin already knew this and tried conveying it without being too blunt about it. But, maybe he should be.

First things first: answers. Orin hauled the man over where Eoin shackled his arms behind his back. The Saelisian was able to be on his knees for now, but Eoin had his hands on that chain, ready to yank up when he deemed it necessary. At Orin's question, their prisoner simply glared at him, spitting at his feet. His chest heaved with labored breaths after the initial pain and shock of losing parts of his fingers...but he wasn't going to utter a word. Not yet, that is.
Letting out a light sigh, Eoin was quick to pull on that chain, where it forcefully yanked the man's arm awkwardly up behind him. Not terribly far, but just enough for him to be very uncomfortable. "He asked you a question..." the ranger said with an eerie calm, being sure not to release any pressure with the chain.
The Saelisian hissed and cried out, still trying to bite his tongue. Eoin pulled a little more on that tether before they got the answer they were seeking. "Lord...Boudreau!" he spat out, trying to stand more on his feet to alleviate the pain the chain was causing on his arms. "After you killed Lord Aramis-" he continued in anger. "He stepped up."
"Very good," Eoin replied, still calm despite the fact that he was causing this man physical harm. "We know you tried to kill the queen...but I also know for a fact that Saelis is planning another attack." Just pulling a little more on that chain, he caused more pain in a small warning that he could make this go very badly. "When?"
"I...don't know..."
That didn't seem to convince Eoin, so he pulled the Saelisian a little more onto his feet, straining his arms even more. Those grey eyes flickered to Orin, silently questioning whether he wanted to have a go.

[Orin Evans]

Orin stood in front of the prisoner, arms folded over his chest as Eoin questioned the man and got some answer out of him. So they had appointed a new leader, who was seemingly continuing what Lord Aramis had started. This wasn't over as much as Aralore had hoped.

"You don't know, or you won't tell?" Orin asked after Eoin gave him that questioning look if he wanted to have a go.  He unfolded his arms and moved towards the man, tilting his head as he placed a hand on his shoulder.  His voice was eerily calm, though laced with a hint of anger.  "Let me rephrase that question...Or rather, ask a different one, first..."  He grabbed the man's chin and squeezed it tightly, forcing the man to look into his eyes.  "What is the reason for trying to assassinate our queen?  Why is Saelis planning another attack?"  

Orin's bluish-green eyes glared harshly at the man.  It was an intimidating gaze.  Orin often didn't need to pull out weapons or cause pain to get his answers, because his presence usually scared the hell out of people.  So, this is what he would try first.  
"Be careful of your answer... Do not forget you have someone behind you ready to pull at those chains..."  He smirked slightly and squeezed the man's chin harder, his eye twitching slightly from the glare he gave the man.  "And you've got a man in front of you who could do just about anything to you if you do not cooperate...  So again.... Choose your answer wisely..."  

[Eoin Rodain]

Eoin was grinding his teeth, already worried and agravated over the fact that these bastards were planning to bring another war to their doorstep. One that Aralore may not win this time. Unless they could find more unlikely allies, he was really unsure as to where this battle would go. Maybe this was why he was being instantly and brutally cruel to the prisoner. There was no easing into it. They didn't have time.

Holding tightly to the chain, he watched Orin question the man now, feeling his heart thundering inside his chest. All he wanted to do was beat the Saelisian's face in until he stopped moving, but he was quite aware that that would get them nowhere. Letting Orin try would lessen the chance of him suddenly snapping and losing himself.

It would appear that their prisoner was about to laugh in Orin's face just before his chin was grasped harshly, halting his mirth immediately. He didn't know how to react initially, unsure of what to make of the man's threat...but the other one behind him had already made him bleed and was currently making it difficult to stand without pain. He certainly was not doubting Orin, and the glare was becoming unsettling. Enough to make him hesitate and say anything stupid. Even still, the cruelty in his voice was not gone. "To kill the traitorous whore...why else?" He cried out again when Eoin yanked on the chain just a little bit more. "Boudreau wants...something..." he managed to get out through gritted teeth, feeling the fire in his nerves crawl up through his arms. "A...w-weapon..."

[Orin Evans]

Orin's hand moved from the man's chin to grasp around his throat when he called Alexandria a traitorous whore. He didn't squeeze too hard, but the intention was there. He growled at the man, but before he could say anything else, Eoin was yanking on the chain forcing the man to cry out, answering Orin's second question. Again, with the weapon thing?

Orin turned his gaze to Eoin briefly before brows furrowed and he glared back at the man, narrowing his eyes again at the man. "A weapon? What kind of weapon? We do not have anything aside from typical swords, bows, daggers... spears... whatever." This made no sense.

"When are they coming?" He repeated Eoin's question, his hand still wrapped around the man's throat.
"How many in their army?"

He gave the man a threatening glance. If he said he didn't know again, he'd better be prepared for a lot of pain, because Orin was ready, and that could easily be told in his eyes as he glared at him.

[Eoin Rodain]

The man was nervous to respond to Orin when his throat was grabbed, mainly because he really didn't know the answer to that. It would appear that it was a question no one had the answer to, and yet there was about to be an entire war over it. But he didn't argue with his lord- when Boudreau wanted something done, they did it. And that was that. Killing the queen who had defied Lord Aramis and resulted in his death was just another job to him and his comrades.
"I...don't know..." he repeated, gritting his teeth against the pain again. "I don't even think...he knows...what it is..." The last part was stammered out in hesitation, making it clear that the Saelisian leader either didn't tell his followers what this weapon was, or he himself had no clue.

Eoin's attention flickered to Orin, confusion written all over his face. Everyone was saying the same thing. There was some sort of weapon that Aralore possessed but not even the queen's brother knew what they were speaking of. Did Alexandria? Did anyone? When the Saelisian stalled on answering Orin's question, his patience wore even thinner. None too gently, he viciously yanked on the chain to bring the man off his feet, his toes lingering a few inches off the ground. He had to hook the metal tether to a hook on the wall because he wouldn't be able to hold him there himself. The prisoner cried out in agony that echoed off the stone; his arms pulled up horribly awkward behind his back, his shoulders threatening to pop from their sockets from his weight.
"When...and how many?" he growled the questions again, a hand going to that knife's hilt once again as if ready to withdraw it. What would he do with it next?
The Saelisian panted, grunting in his pain and discomfort, struggling to find words...but he knew the ranger would not release him if he did not answer. And he was so very tired. Boudreau would kill him for this..."Eight-thousand troops...possibly...closer to nine...if Noath joins..."
Blinking, Eoin drew in a deep, annoyed breath. It was a little less than he had originally thought...but not by much. It was still too big of a number for Aralore to take on alone. Silently praying Nemeris would get answers from their allies, he finally drew out his blade again, still stained with the man's dried blood, and held it against one of his fingers. Since the prisoner couldn't see it this time, he'd certainly feel the sharp blade pressing into the skin of one of his still intact fingers. "When?" he asked again. And he wasn't going to ask another time.
Their prisoner quivered at the sensation of steel already cutting the delicate skin. He was trying to look defiantly at Orin, seeming as though he was going to deny them both this very necessary answer. Maybe he shouldn't say anything, because he was going to die either way, wasn't he?

Grinding his teeth, Eoin looked over at Orin when the Saelisian refused to respond now...and silently handed him his blade, if he wished to try.

[Orin Evans]

Orin continued to glare at the man as he admitted he didn't know what this so-called weapon was that Aralore supposedly had. His own eyes glanced past the man and over to Eoin. If the man was telling the truth, it at least matched up to what Eoin had said previously.

He returned his gaze at the prisoner when Eoin repeated his question that had gone unanswered. He was growing impatient now. They both were. But the chains seemed to be doing the job because he was getting the answers they needed. Eight-thousand troops. Maybe nine? It wasn't good news. And Aralore was not prepared right now to handle that kind of number.

When was this all going to take place? No answer, despite Eoin's threats. The prisoner looked defiantly at him and Orin narrowed his eyes threateningly. He would be smart to answer because unlike his Saelisian friends, who would kill him if they found out he gave away this information--or even for failing at assassinating the queen, Orin would spare the man his life if he'd cooperate. But it wouldn't save him from rotting in this prison for the rest of his life.

Eoin handed him his blade, which he took and spun it around in his hand a couple of times in a playful threat to the prisoner. Would he use the blade? Or would he continue to just wave it around? The man wouldn't be able to tell, because Orin just stood there for a moment, not saying anything, not even looking at the man. He walked back and forth in front of the man, tapping the point of the blade against his chin in thought.

"It takes... about a month and a half, if I am correct, To sail from Saelis to Aralore...You arrived about, what? A couple weeks ago? Was this... Lord Boudreau waiting for your return to see if you had succeeded with assassinating our queen? This way, they would not have to bother sending troops...They could simply take over, right? So that would buy us about a month right now, that they are waiting for your return... And when you don't return, in a month... Then what happens?"

Orin spoke extremely calmly, but still, his tone managed to have a menacing and threatening manner about it.

He quickly moved towards the prisoner without warning, and he swiped that blade up to his cheek, through his eye and to his brow, much like his new scar that one of the Saelisian asses had given to him. He then moved the blade to the man's throat and kneed him hard into his stomach before he shouted loudly. "WHEN will they be coming!?"

[Eoin Rodain]

If they knew they would have the time, this process would have been a lot slower. Eoin wouldn't have been so brazen in his actions. Then again, he was still seeking that revenge for what had been done to him, so there was no telling whether that would have been true or not. Regardless, he silently worried they had been too forward with the light bit of torture they already inflicted and were pushing the man too hard, too soon.

However, it didn't seem like Orin felt that way.

Barely flinching, although there was a hint of surprise in his eyes, Eoin watched him drag the blade straight down the man's face, echoing the wound that was seemingly scarring on his own face. Perhaps he shouldn't have grinned, but it was hard not to when, after the prisoner's screaming finally died down, he was beginning to sputter out words.

The blade stung, causing blood to pour immediately, dripping down into his eye that he was certain was damaged. "Y-yes!" he cried out, letting the psycho know that his assumptions were correct. He and the others were supposed to return with news...but soon enough, Boudreau would realize that they weren't coming.

The Saelisian was gasping for breath with the knee to his gut, struggling against those chains which only made the pain worse. His shoulders were so close to popping out of their sockets and he was desperate to just pass out now. "Spring!" he eventually blurted out. "They...won't sail in the winter." At least, that's what he was told. It was too much of a risk to send all their troops out in such weather. It was best to wait until the lands were thawed and a little warmer.

[Orin Evans]

Orin stood there lacking any emotion or expression on his face as he stared at the prisoner. Although, clearly he was angry. They had already fought a war with these assholes... Then had the nerve to come back and try and assassinate Alexandria, and now were threatening war again? When would this end?

He only stood a couple of feet from the man, arms folded over his chest as he listened to him. When he blurted out that they would be coming in the spring and that Saelis didn't sail in the winter, he thought to himself. It was December now, so that gave them at least three months. If the man was telling the truth.

Orin closed that space again and grabbed the man's hair, yanking his head back. "Are you lying!? Trying to trick us into thinking we have some time, when in fact they might be on their way now? How can I trust your information? Do I need to continue to torture you?" He growled at the man, nearly daring him to tell a lie. If he hadn't expected his eye to nearly be gouged out, Orin had other tricks up his sleeve. He wouldn't tolerate lies.

[Eoin Rodain]

Eoin remained behind the prisoner, watching as Orin took over this interrogation. And Nemeris thought it was a bad idea for him to do this? Orin was already losing it. And yet, the ranger remained where he was, unflinching, not trying to stop him. He wouldn't kill him yet...not until they were sure they had the information they needed.

The Saelisian cried out again when his head was yanked back. With his arms still in that terrible position and giving him strain, this made it far worse and he was gasping for breath from both pain and fear. He was telling the truth! How was he supposed to make this lunatic believe him? Anything spoken from his mouth could be deemed a lie, no matter what it was.
He was a dead man either way.
"It's what we were told!" he spat, squirming to try and alleviate any of his discomfort, but it was pointless. "Doesn't matter what you believe-" their prisoner continued in a growl. Then, his words became darkly humorous. "You're all going to die anyway..."

[Orin Evans]

After the man shouted that it was what they were told, Orin forcefully let go of his hair, shoving him back slightly.
He glared at him, still and when he spoke again, those darkly humorous words, Orin grabbed him by the neck and tightened his grip, holding him up off the floor. "Not before you will die." Again, Orin shoved him back and stepped away, growling slightly.

His gaze shifted to Eoin again, as if asking him if he had any more questions to ask the man. He'd turn the spot back to him to take over, offering him his blade back. He was done with it. For now.

[Eoin Rodain]

The prisoner swayed when he was shoved, increasing the pain in his arms even further, but immediately halted when Orin seized his neck. The Saelisian already knew he was a dead man either way, so he no longer cared. He laughed in his dark amusement, silently praying for death now.

And it would seem like he would get it.

Eoin had been watching silently. They could break and cut this man all day and demand the truth, but there was no saying that they would get it. It was clear, by the way the prisoner laugh and spat his words, he was already accepting his death.

So when Orin handed his blade back to him, there was barely a moment of hesitation. The ranger moved in front of the Saelis assassin and drove the knife straight through his neck; hardly flinching when the warm blood splattered across his own face.

[Orin Evans]

Orin had come close to taking the man's life, but he held back because he felt Eoin should have the honor, after being held prisoner for so long by these men.

They had gotten most of the information they needed. And he hoped that the man was being truthful, at least. It was a risk they had to take.

Orin barely flinched when Eoin drove his knife through the man's neck and the blood splattered towards both of them. He watched as the prisoner died before he turned to Eoin. "Think he was telling the truth?" He said simply as if nothing had just happened. All in a day's work.