"What was in the drink, friend?" Ulfric asked quietly.
Galmar gave a bark of unamused laughter. "Am I so transparent? Alright. It was a Paralysis Poison, probably the strongest I have ever come across, before or since. I downed half the bottle in a single swallow, and suddenly couldn't move. My legs and arms went stiff and straight. I couldn't blink my damned eyes!
I fell right out of my damned chair to the floor, just as the thrice-damned witch-elf bastards came in. That - that viper Elenwen came over to me and kindly closed my eyes so they wouldn't dry out and leave me blind. I couldn't move or I'd have ended her days right then and there.
I could hear them dragging you out - I assume they gagged you - and telling each other how well they'd managed it. Nobody suspected a thing, except Silver-Blood, who orchestrated the whole thing. I wager he gave them Legion positions that time we were looking for a mole, but I have no proof of that. He wanted us away from his precious mines, and he managed it.
It took an hour more for that damn poison to wear off enough to move even the slightest bit. Another hour later it wore off fully and you were well gone, along with any tracks or trails that I might have followed. And by the time I finally found you, you were so traumatised by their torturers that you couldn't tell the difference between a Healer and an enemy - and you still can't. Now. If you will kindly excuse me, my Jarl, I feel the need for some fresh air."
Ulfric nodded and Galmar stepped out the patio doors. Ulfric sagged back into his bed: he had been given plenty to think about. Almost immediately he sat upright again. "Ralof," he called.
"My Jarl?" Ralof stuck his head in the door.
"Send for General Stormblade, would you? Her services will be needed shortly."
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timeasmymeasure
The Old-Fashioned Way 8/?
Date: 2013-08-04 10:06 pm (UTC)Galmar gave a bark of unamused laughter. "Am I so transparent? Alright. It was a Paralysis Poison, probably the strongest I have ever come across, before or since. I downed half the bottle in a single swallow, and suddenly couldn't move. My legs and arms went stiff and straight. I couldn't blink my damned eyes!
I fell right out of my damned chair to the floor, just as the thrice-damned witch-elf bastards came in. That - that viper Elenwen came over to me and kindly closed my eyes so they wouldn't dry out and leave me blind. I couldn't move or I'd have ended her days right then and there.
I could hear them dragging you out - I assume they gagged you - and telling each other how well they'd managed it. Nobody suspected a thing, except Silver-Blood, who orchestrated the whole thing. I wager he gave them Legion positions that time we were looking for a mole, but I have no proof of that. He wanted us away from his precious mines, and he managed it.
It took an hour more for that damn poison to wear off enough to move even the slightest bit. Another hour later it wore off fully and you were well gone, along with any tracks or trails that I might have followed. And by the time I finally found you, you were so traumatised by their torturers that you couldn't tell the difference between a Healer and an enemy - and you still can't. Now. If you will kindly excuse me, my Jarl, I feel the need for some fresh air."
Ulfric nodded and Galmar stepped out the patio doors. Ulfric sagged back into his bed: he had been given plenty to think about. Almost immediately he sat upright again. "Ralof," he called.
"My Jarl?" Ralof stuck his head in the door.
"Send for General Stormblade, would you? Her services will be needed shortly."
"Right away, my Jarl," Ralof saluted.
*-*-*