* Sill sits on the floor of the cell, her voice hoarse from yelling curses and complaints with no response. She still has her arms tied behind her and she can feel the blood from where Calandra gashed her slowly gumming up in the bonds around her wrists. She hadn't even noticed the pain until she calmed down some, and now her arm is throbbing. She sighs and lays her head against the bars of the cell, staring out into the firelit hall.
<Lt_Kilborn> It could be described as cruel and unusual punishment, leaving her hands bound behind her like that. It certainly was not their ordinary practice to do such. It must've made her morning meal a little bit interesting to swallow. Of course she'd have to wait till morning. They weren't going to rouse the Lieutenant in the middle of the night to question someone. She therefore, waited at least till morning. It might've been later though, all depended when the man got there. Calandra probably wound up better off. She didn't kick, scream, curse or rant and rave. She probably had her hands untied upon her arrival here. Finally though, for Sill, there was the sound of approaching footsteps.
* Sill doesn't bother getting up.. just the patrol by again. She prepares some particularly cutting remarks to throw at them though. Oh yes, she's spent time in cells before, and has subsequently learned just how far one can push a guard before they snap.
<Lt_Kilborn> Perhaps. The Order had been fairly well run of late. And Otis, the primary guard in this region, had snapped a number of cutting remarks back towards Sill. Maybe. It was awfully difficult to tell, since he had a ball of tobacco the size of a small orange in his mouth. She had spittle leavings from the man, stinking nearby. This patrol however, seemed a trace bit more numerous than the others, and lo and behold, about five figures made an appearance in front of her cell and stopped.
* Sill gazes up at them, the large number of them inspiring a considerable amount of concern in her. She forces a deep breath and settles a glare on them. She hadn't slept much and mourned for her friend alone in the middle of the night. Now she only has hot anger that has proven to be her undoing time and again. "About time you realize the mistake you've made." She holds back the insults, she really doesn't want to get kicked around, her back is sore enough from the night in the cold, damp cell.
* Lt_Kilborn glanced to one of the recognizable guards, namely Otis, and gestured towards the cell door. The jailkeep moved forward and with a rattle of the keys about his personage, started to work the door open. Not a single one of them seemed to react to her commentary about the 'mistake'.
* Sill scowls at them, and would have gotten to her feet but it actually proved to be particularly challenging for her all tied and such. She just ends up kicking around some dirt and sawdust and falling over with a few choice gypsy curses. Cursing in her inherited language is that area that she's most fluent in, as Calandra has no doubt kept after her about endlessly.
<Lt_Kilborn> The door was opened and two of the additional guards stepped forward, ignoring her feeble kicks for now, so that they could reach down, grasp her by the elbows and attempt to haul her to her feet. The guards outside the cell took a step backwards, giving no opportunity for Sill to try to kick out at all. Though one was heard muttering to the other..."What sort of language is that?"
* Sill might not have kicked them, but might isn't a very concrete word. Regardless, she isn't even given the opportunity and looks sharply at the man who commented on the language. "Clearly something YOU'LL never understand. Where are we going?" She winces when the guard wraps a hand around the gash on her arm, possibly breaking the blood clots and causing it to bleed freely once more, Calandra got her good with that one.
<Lt_Kilborn> Just come along for now please. Joshua Kilborn himself directed, and turned to lead the way towards a small office in another level of the building. One that obviously doubled as an interrogation room. They weren't exactly verbose at the moment and wouldn't reply to anything till they got to the office, at which point she would be ushered towards one chair, her hands finally freed, and left with three guardsmen.
<Sill> When they cut her bonds, which have been slowly soaking in her blood and sweat and are as such somewhat grungy, she can't help but give an audible gasp of pain as her shoulder muscles protest after being restrained. She sinks into the chair and looks at the wound on her arm, which has had the entire night to collect dirt and she winces. Too much dried blood, the gash definitely needs some medical attention sooner than later.
<Lt_Kilborn> "We'll have someone look at that before we put you back." Joshua stated, moving to take a seat opposite of her, on the other side of a table that separated them. Another of the guardsmen lingered at some distance behind Sill, while the last sat at a small desk, prepared to copy down everything that Sill stated.
* Sill frowns at the term 'put you back'. She forgets the injury and studies the man in front of her, her blue eyes appraising him coolly.
<Lt_Kilborn> The man opposite of her certainly seemed to have a higher rank than anyone else that she'd come across. Short brown hair, light build, despite the broad shoulders. He looked particularly at home in the uniform. "You have been charged with the Murder of Tyralor McDougal." He informed her next.
* Sill just stares at him passively, studying what he has on his desk, how neat his uniform is, and any other tidbits towards the character of this man. His accusation wounds her on the inside. Tyralor was second on the list of people she was LEAST likely to murder, Calandra coming first naturally.
<Lt_Kilborn> There wasn't anything on this particular desk. It was simply an obstacle between the two of them really. At the moment, from the written report of Private Ryan Spencer, there is little reason for us to doubt your involvement in the murder. Would you like to make a full confession? It might, prevent you from being hung.
* Sill pales at the thought of being hung, and it brings her back to full attention of the man in front of her. She had always entertained careers less than approving of the law, but nothing this serious. She is quiet for a moment, "What of the other woman you brought in?.. She's innocent. She took the dagger from me just before the guards arrived."
<Lt_Kilborn> "We will be speaking with her shortly." Was what Kilborn offered to Sill in response to her words. He settled back, with a faint hint of raised eyebrows. Normally, most people didn't try to alleviate the guilt of their companions, and from her response, he half expected her to make that full confession. Well. There were always firsts weren't there?
<Sill> "Well make sure you write that down.. " She gestures to him a bit sluggishly, her fingers tingling with the sharp pins that all feel when blood returns to extremities. As concerned as Sill was of getting herself out of this mess, she was more concerned for her cousin.
<Lt_Kilborn> "Everything that is stated here is written down." Kilborn assured her. And then folded his arms over his chest, waiting for her to go on. Apparently being somewhat patient.
* Sill sighs and sits back, kneading her hands to return the circulation more quickly. She has a sick feeling in her stomach, and wonders what the best thing to tell him is. Stalling is good. "Can I have a drink?"
<Lt_Kilborn> "Perhaps in a bit." Ah, she was trying to stall; he was trying to get her to talk. That much was obvious, considering the light smile that touched his lips for a second or two. He wasn't going to sit around all day playing games with her, that was for certain.
* Sill just frowns, her mind running through a dozen different scenario's of what she could tell him, and what she expects the outcome might be. Clearly none are good because she doesn't say anything for a long time. "You know.. my.. friend.. is much better at talking and explaining things than I am. She could explain everything much better, though there isn't really much to tell. When I got there Tyr-.. well.. he was already dead." A pang of emotion for her lost friend crosses her face.