"Information is the most important asset in war. There are many ways to obtain information, from stealing enemy reports and orders to figuring out the enemy strategy. However, the most accurate information comes from the enemy themselves. If you are lucky enough to capture an enemy, the most reliable way to obtain information from them is torture. With torture, do not needlessly inflict pain. Inflict enough pain for them to give up their information but make sure to keep on dangling the promise of escape if they the information is given up. Of course you would still kill the enemy, however that is the most important rule of torture. Too much or too little of pain will render that opportunity of gathering information useless."
-Redcap Translations, by Cameron Coy
As the morning light shone through the cracks in the walls and the barred window, a battered and ruined boy finally decided to tear his eyelids open. Rather than being met with his bedroom, the sight of a cold, stone cell greeted him grimly.
No bed, just an armless chair which the boy was strapped too. No work desk, but a small wooden projection from the wall with countless unrecognisable tools on it. No window with a view of the whole of Lower Alandriel, just a small barred up gap at the very top of the wall behind Daniel which he couldn't even see. No Igo barging in through that wooden bedroom door, just a heavy iron slab with a handle blocking any view of where he could be.
A constant banging rang throughout Daniel's head, his ears and eyes trying to figure out how to hear or see once again. A raw pain shot around each and every nerve in his body, his eyes darting up and down and side to side around the room in absolute terror and agony. His throat, completely dry and coarse and whatever voice that croaked out of it was not one usually associated with its bearer. Fingers bloodied and warped, with a few fingernails ripped out hear and there.
The banging become worse. No amount of screaming and yelling could get across the pain and fear Daniel felt. The banging became consistent with a small voice accompanying it. Why? The voice became louder. Why? w-What happened... I want to go home! The voice began to sound like words. P-please get me home! Anyone... Nyn! Lanyon! Igo! Sun! P-please-
"Wakey-wakey, get up already! Your host is arriving!"
The voice became real. Host? I-I'm a guest?! What do you mean! I-I-I want to g-go home! Please! I beg of you! Just let- The door of the cell swung open. What would be the outside of the cell was obscured by a towering figure, seeming larger than life itself.
The man exhumed pride and power with every step he took towards Daniel. Though his eyes could not raise themselves enough to see the mans face, only allowing him to see a smart crimson suit and black shoes, Daniel could see that behind him cowered a shaking boy, dishevelled white hair crashing down the sides of his head, an expression of pure embarrassment and shame smothered over his face; for some reason Daniel felt like that appearance and especially that expression did not suit the boy he just met, a boy just around the same age as him, and oddly familiar in a way he could not describe.
"Is this him?" a booming voice exploded massively, sending shivers down those who heard it.
"Y-yes, fath-Inquisitor." the boy behind this man squealed.
"I thought I told you not to call me father, boy." an otherworldly voice threatened, the bearer of this voice looking down upon the boy.
"Yes, Inquisitor" the boy uttered emotionlessly, standing up straight with a blank stare at that mans orders.
"Good. No need to remind you then." the voice ordered, "Now... Daniel, I believe your name is, yes?"
"...y-yes..." Daniel croaked, using every bit of resolve in himself to respond, even though he didn't particularly want to; as if he was compelled to do it by some unknown force.
"Daniel, the reason I have you here is because I believe you know of someone very... lets say important to me. So, with that in mind," the voice crouched down to head level with the boy, his head turned slightly to the left, "do you know of a man called Lucan Duskwalker?"
This man, much like his voice, felt almost god-like. A glorious head of brown and slightly greying hair topped the war-hardened and dead expression of his face. A stout yet sharp nose, accompanied by slightly slanted eyes, a creeping smile engulfing the bottom half of his face, though there was no emotion behind that smile.
That smile was deliberate, only made to force fear down the throat of any who just so happen to lay their gaze upon it. This man was the epitome of beauty itself, with not even the prettiest woman in all of Alium able to match it.
"What is your answer, Daniel?" the voice boomed again, more demanding this time. With Daniel not even realising it, minutes had passed between the first question and what this man was saying now; that long of a time absorbed simply in the appearance of a man.
"...w-wh..."
"Hmm? What did you say?"
"...w-ho.."
"Denying it are you? Well, some persuading will help with that. Boy, lets leave this to Harold, shall we?"
"Yes Inquisitor."
"Harold, I'll leave it to you" the voice commanded, looking over to a hunch-back man smirking behind the door entrance.
"It'll be my pleasure..." the man laughed cynically, stepping into the room and preparing the strange tools; various knifes and saws stained in red, "I'll enjoy this. I hope you will too..."
That day, a large manor in Upper Alandriel in the nobles quarter was filled with the screams of a young boy, begging for help. But by the time the screaming stopped, help never came.