The chamber existed where light feared to venture.
Deep beneath the Arass manor, past corridors that twisted like the intestines of some great beast, past doors sealed with locks that had no keys, past wards that would burn the skin of any who lacked Arass blood... there was a room that smelled of suffering.
The walls were smooth stone, unmarked except for sigils carved so deep they seemed to bleed shadow. Chains hung from the ceiling, their links black with old blood and newer fluids that glistened wetly in the dim purple glow of ceremonial candles. The floor was stained in layers, each atrocity adding another shade to the grotesque tapestry of cruelty.
In this chamber, three men hung suspended.
