Gregor stared in horror at the sight before him. Master Silverwing had told him stories of man’s cruelty to man but never had it hung before his innocent eyes. He had not been seeking evil, only offering simple aid to the taxed guardsmen working in the city’s gaols, but here it was and it could not be wished away with conscience. The corpse before him still hung where it had expired, only the maggots feasting within the decayed flesh indicating how long it may have been here. Gregor was not wise to the methods of torture but the marks on the man’s hanging body would have educated even the dullest half orc to the implements that were brought to bear on the flesh.
It was obvious that every nerve in the poor soul’s body had been submitted to various degrees of excruciating pain. No skin remained unmarked and Gregor found himself just able to steel himself against retching as he turned the suspended body, looking for clues to the person’s former identity. There were burns charred deeply into the flesh as if the master of the man’s final hours, days, or months here had singed away the first bits to bare the muscle beneath. Various other implements in the small room still bore the blood and skin of the prisoner. The rack near the wall had broken him in such a way that the body would have been dead weight before a noose had encircled his neck. Bits of the man stained with dried blood still hung from a short wicked whip, hanging from its metal handle were strung nine leather strands tipped with short steel claws. The handle itself had crushed and bruised the abused soul in a manner no living thing should have been scarred. Death has finally come after much labor it seemed. The pulley system above the corpse had been well worn in its history. The labors of the torturer made sure the neck had been bitten repeatedly to the point of becoming callused before the death had released the prisoner.
The man showed only one identifying mark that had been supplied by the fiend that had caused such agony. A rough "T" had been burned into the flesh of the forehead and scoring the skull, leaving only enough room for one other mark to be left above the eyes. This mark, the freshest of the brands, must have been done after blood no longer flowed in the body. The thin circular pattern enclosed the mark of the Emperor. Gregor disgorged his meager breakfast in the bucket where the flies still feasted. Something was very wrong here. Did the Emperor know and if he did why hide the execution of a presumed traitor from the city’s population? What would merit such extreme treatment of anyone? “God Etoth give me your light that I may see my path clearly and give me your strength to face what must be done.”
A Question of Law
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Nuclear Diva
- Dasarian
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Thu Sep 28, 2006 11:45 pm
A Question of Law
"Dreams come true. Without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them" John Updike
-
Nuclear Diva
- Dasarian
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Thu Sep 28, 2006 11:45 pm
