That night another tradition was being performed. In a cell occupied by six elves, one half-elf, one halfling, two humans and a Nilfgaardian, there was joy. The Dijkstra Riesling was being poured into a tin plate and sipped without hands, in order to have better chances of getting a slight dizziness from the watered down wine. Only one of the elves, a Scoia’tael from Iorveth’s commandos had recently received a heavy beating in the laundry room, he kept his serenity and dignity, and wrote on a wall beam the inscription: “Freedom or death”. There were hundreds of similar inscriptions.
The rest of the condemned, also following tradition, sang in chorus the hymn of the Joyful, an anonymous song, composed in Drakenborg, whose words were learned by each of the prisoners in the barracks at nigh
