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Toxic Trials and Tribulations (by an unknown Fae, now deceased)
From WikiWatch
I write this down, with the eyes of that Teir'Dal in my back. The eyes I don't fear, but her blade glinster with the brightness of cold steel, dimmed down with poison and my blood. MY BLOOD!!! She made me feel her blades in ways I never experienced pain before. She enjoys her ways, her experimenting. She feels intoxicated when she used her new batches of toxins and poisons.
How did I get here? I don't recall. One moment I'm going to my home in Kelethin, the next I wake up in a dungeon - dark, moist, reeking with death and decay. I can only suspect I'm in Neriak, as the next thing I saw when the door opened was more locked prisoncells, more chained people - all kinds of races. All being tortured, tested, mutilated by Teir'Dal. Some of these prisoners, myself included, were taken to a more secluded part of the dungeon.
Here I met her, for the first time. Even though a Teir'Dal, she looked nice, pretty even. But her grin, her mouth, her eyes shown a fury, a bloodlust that distorted her whole being. She looked at the others, and then at me, looking at my hands. "Are you capable of writing?" she asked me. Even before think I muttered a small yes, looking away. "Fine, you will write down what I tell you, describe what you see, and make it good. I will be to... we'll say busy to do it myself. I want to taste fear and disgust in your words. Understood?". I thought I had a chance, so I said yes with no hesitation. How foolish I was. Death would have been welcome for the horrors I saw.
How can one be so filled with hatred to commit such acts? I wasn't allowed to detail the actions, but I need to write down the effects. Ravaged Ratonga's, wingless Fae's, Koada'Dal beyond recognition, even Teir'Dal pleading for their sanity, not even their lives. Disection, amputation, mutilation - this was the better side of things seen. The things not seen, the practices of testing new potent poisons on already decaying bodies - I can't call them people anymore, it makes it to hard. I even saw some Inquisitors reviving the dead, healing them partially, just to let them rot, to have the tortured again. And again.
Once they finally died, they weren't even left to be at rest. There was this other Teir'Dal with her, a necromancer, who experimented with the corpses, the body parts, the flabby intestines. Monstreous moving things, tested with their resistances for poisons, toxins, diseases. Imbued with powers to terrifying, and all at the whim of the demonic Teir'Dal that controlled them. I couldn't call them anything less, these hate infused, monsters!
I felt that I had it all. That I got through it all. Writing this down, tasting the death on my lips, like the salty breezy of the sea. Hearing screams, more inhuman then I ever experienced. The all surrounding darkness filled with decay, smothering your senses. But then she turned to me. She looked at me with a thirst in her eyes that made my wings shiver. "Write down, what happens now, step by step!" she screamed at me.
That is when I felt the pain of a knife cutting through my wings. She stepped back, looking. I felt a coldness tear through my body, the realisation that I was poisoned hit me harder then the toxins itself. A numbing feeling followed by inmens pain ripping through my body. I felt flames tear at my ligaments, the tissue of my nerves becoming liquid. I dropped my pen, but she pushed it back. But I can't write... Can't feel... Pain... so much pain... let me... I don't want to die... don't... let me... please, I... beg...
