Extract from "The Commander's Tribunal"

Item · 10 gp · Weight 0.1

"The crusader grunt was trembling like a leaf, sweat pouring off him, but the ball gag in his mouth stopped him from begging for mercy. He looked askance at the bucket of switches floating in salted water, and his shudders grew more violent as he imagined the Commander personally whipping him in full view of everyone. There were hooks dangling from the ceiling, but the grunt tried not to look at those at all. Irabeth was licking her fangs greedily, running her hand over her sword hilt, and as the grunt tracked her movement, he knew that all the orifices in his body that tightened under her gaze would be gaping wide open by the time this tribunal was over. Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the creak of tight-fitting leather pants: the Commander had risen from {mf|his|her} seat. The grunt knew what was about to happen, and he closed his eyes against the blow. Suddenly, his jaw was held in an iron grip, forcing his head up. Toying with a whip, the Commander said, "I've made my decision: you shall be punished, because you've been a very, very bad boy and I'm very, very displeased with you." "I think you will have to create a separate item in the budget for paddles. Using them on these rankers is sure to wear them out quickly," came the voice of a devil, but the Commander only chuckled and..."