Barefoot on Broken Glass

Liga Bur, leading loyal Mir Hundur and carrying the fiercely flaming Dijonn, is the last to enter the brightly lit ‘Orb’ chamber. His friends have already beaten its trap and stepped through the round cage to the other side of the thick diagonal wall and he moves to follow, but his keen Halfling senses and Orcish training force him to stop in his tracks. 

As a Halfling raised by Orcs, Liga Bur had been encouraged to trust his more primal instincts. Something was distinctly odd here and, before he could move on, he needed to know what?

Taking in the room, the sharp-eyed Halfling tries to work out what's troubling him. Is it the copper running through the mortar of the rough, central wall? Is it the blackened gutter feeding from whatever used to be clamped to the central metal stand? Is it the smashed, darkly lacquered display cabinet?

Despite being raised by the more tender footed Orcs, Liga Bur has never felt the need to wrap his feet in cloth or bind them in leather. Now though, he has cause to pause. 

Examining the shallow collecting pool beneath the black-blood stained 'T-bar' stand, Liga Bur realises that the tiny swords were designed, not to kill but rather keep the prisoner bleeding constantly. The blood from the thousand cuts would drip down and collect in the stone basin beneath them and flow across the gutter leading from it and then out of the tower through the narrow pipe. The very same pipe that he'd seen from outside. The very same stone pipe that had endlessly fed the outer circle of scorpions! 

Being careful not to stand in any of the dried black remains, the Halfling tracker jogs back towards the broken cabinet. The glass was smashed hurriedly and the floor immediately in front, is covered by sharp shards of it.

Climbing back up and standing on Mir Hundur’s saddle, Liga Bur urges his hound mount forward, counting on the big dog’s thick paws to keep them both safe. The varnished wooden remnants of the display case are bolted to the wall about five feet above the floor and deliberately positioned in a direct line of sight from the main orb. It's empty now but, by the indentation in the plush, green velvet, it patently contained the chain and heart-shaped pendant worn by the Hag during his fevered dreams.

It was also obviously valued greatly by the prisoner, so why keep it almost within their reach? For the sake of vindictive cruelty? Was this half of the room kept unnecessarily bright, just to allow the prisoner occasional glimpses of their prized possession? It made little sense but what other reason could their be?

Scowling, the gruff tracker, dissatisfied with his own conclusion, drops back into his saddle. Guiding Mir Hundur with his knees, he raises the brightly burning Dijonn high in the air and follows his companions through to the other, darker side of the diagonal wall.