A Prisoner

[Peridan]

Within the desolate halls of the dungeon, darkness seems to pervade the very air itself. No light, and windows are sealed with stone that prevents any fresh air from getting into the foul cells. The bright eyes of rats are the only sources of illumination as they scurry forth, searching for any scraps from unlucky visitors flesh recently. One rat in particular makes its way down deeper into the dungeon, where the darkness and the stench is palpable to the senses so much that it can overwhelm given the right circumstances.

The rat sniffs the wall, peeking around the corner into the hallway. Moans of other poor souls cry out every so often, weak expressions of the other prisoner's pains and sufferings. It scurries past other cells, as if searching for something in particular, until it reaches a large iron door. the door stands only about five feet high, but it is about six feet wide and made of reinforced metal so strong, that it would take a golem to be able to bash through it. Luckily for the rat, there is a small slit where the prisoner within can be seen that it takes advantage of to hop on through. Squeaking curiously, it approaches the figure chained to the wall, his hair unkempt and ragged. Fresh wounds litter his body generously, and his legs are burned badly, the flesh blistering in the cool dark of the dungeon. Unmoving, the prisoner doesn't react to the rat's curiosity. Sniffing the floor, covered in dried blood the rat stiffens as it hears someone walking down the hallway. It scurries away to find another meal, one that is less prone to attract the runners of this dungeon.

A soft clink can be heard as whoever is outside turns the key, stepping in. A man, his face shrouded in shadow, addresses the prisoner with a smile that causes a shudder in the very depths of one's soul.

"Time for a new session, Immunes."

The elf stirs against his chains, and his blood red eye opens.

[Peridan]

"Open!"

The shrouded man commands the undead guard outside the cell door. The door swings open and he strides in. He casts light and the wretch is illuminated. Peridan's wounds are festering again. "That will not do" he mutters. His hand hovers over Peridan's unconscious body and a green glow envelops the elf. The elf spasms and gasps in pain before the coma lightens to real sleep. The shrouded Banite shakes his head in frustration while thinking, "After all my prayer and work in restoring his spirit to his body I have nothing to gain from it." "No real information gathered." He wonders for a moment why he actual bothered to revive an enemy of The Church. Sympathy for his plight? Prolonged torture and satisfaction in watching his suffering, perhaps."I can't see Peridan coming to salvation." He turns on his heel and leaves the damp cell to darken as the magic fades.

"Close and guard closely!" The skeletal guard clatters noisily as it jumps to act.

As he heads toward the temple the man thinks back on the previous night.

After his success of dragging the elf's soul back into his body he had been confident in his ability to glean information on legion operations from Peridan. Sadly, it was not to be, a skilled torturer he was not. Yes he could inflict pain or kill, but to balance those gifts and make a subject bend, break, and speak was much more difficult. The Sister showed a talent for torture that he just didn't possess, but she was too heavy handed and damaged the elf to dangerous levels that could send his soul back to the abyss.

"Best do what I know and leave the extraction of whatever information the elf was in possession of to the experts."

The shrouded figure returns to his room and pours himself a glass of blood red wine before settling down to study worn human skin bound tomes. Leaning back in his chair and resting his eyes momentarily he is struck by inspiration. Of course he hadn't spoken with that advisor in some time. Why didn't he think of that earlier. "Need more sleep." He mutters to himself.

The black, sulfurous smelling smoke clears and the imp sneers as it's red eyes meet the man's own. "Master" it squawks, "How may I serve?"

((Posted from another player's own post))