General Firion's Journal

Description

A page from the personal journal of a Palomist general in charge of torturing Sabinian prisoners. Found on a desk in the underground ruins of Senedra Forest.

Inspection Text

From the Private Writings of General Firion, Year of Our Lady 918

The spire sings tonight. Its halls echo with the wails of the damned, and I, their conductor, wield the baton of justice most exquisite. The Sabinian wretches, eyes wide with dread, are dragged forth like cattle to the altar of their reckoning. Oh, how their tongues betray them before the lash has even struck! They babble prayers, they barter with words that hold no coin in this sacred place.

One, a youth of barely twenty summers, dared plead, thinking mercy could be plied from my hand. A foolish notion. His screams as the irons kissed his flesh did, please me more than any psalm sung in chapel. He crumpled as they all do, his body broken before the rack had taken its full toll. It is always the proudest who shatter first; their arrogance turns to mewling within a few strokes of the flail.

What a righteous duty it is, to cleanse the land of this vermin. What a gift, to hold dominion over agony and watch it shape itself into obedience. The spire stands tall upon the bones of traitors, its stones steeped in the sweat of the suffering.

Come dawn, another cartload of prisoners shall arrive. Another day’s symphony awaits.