For a time, perhaps as much as an hour, Lauralana was left to hang.  Ana was left in the corner, her ruined body unable to move and her voice rising in a steady moaning and wailing as she made feeble efforts at movement.  The bodies of the orcs where taken away, and a scrawny goblin wench shuffled in to scrub at the blood and vomit across the wagon's floor and walls.  As she worked, she muttered under her breath in the language of her kind.<br/><br/>Then the unlatched door swung open and Halae strode in, her cat-like eyes narrowed and her face a glow with satisfaction.  Behind her, two orcs carried Tristan, his hands and feet bound.  As they brought him in and dropped him like a side of beef to the floor, Halae moved up and ran her fingers along Lauralana's belly, slowly stroking and making her way up toward the elf's bloody breasts.<br/><br/>"I owe you more rings now," she purred, "Two to replace the ones this naughty boy pulled out to start with..."