[hider=8 Days of Hell]
8 Days.

That was Lana’s best reckoning for how long she had been stuck in this cell - at least from the time when she first woke up here. It was hard to keep count, but the effort was one of the few things helping to keep her sane. She had kept watch for the rise and fall of light from the tiny window at the top of the room, making a mental note of it whenever she could - which was not always, as she had passed out from pain at least twice.

Thanatos had been meticulous in his torture. At first, he had made shallow cuts on her bare arms with the devilishly sharp dragon bone blade - hurting her as much by using the weapon Eli had gifted her as he did with the actual injuries. Then he bound the cuts and treated them - treating her roughly as he did, but being professional about the treatment all the same.

Then, he began to beat her, though only lightly by most standards, she was unaccustomed to pain and every strike he landed stung and bruised with plenty of effectiveness. Always he avoided her face, and by necessity, her hands, which remained very effectively bound. She was far from stoic enough to resist the urge to cry out in pain, sob and cry. Even gagged as she was, it was not long until her voice was hoarse from screaming.

At the beginning and end of each day, he ungagged her and asked once again if she would sign away her lands and privileges to him, along with providing a small amount of bread and water. Every time she refused, spitting brutal epithets at him before he inevitably gagged her once more.

On the third day, Thanatos had begun by violently tearing her dress off, and she had feared the worst. But to her surprise, he seemed not to care at all for her body, simply seeking more flesh to cut. On the third day, rather than bind the cuts he made, he began to cauterise them instead. Heating the blade of the knife and pressing it to her sliced and bleeding skin. It was too much for her to handle, and had been the first time she lost consciousness from pain. After that, he kept burning her, eventually ceasing to cut at all in favor of it. He seemed to take perverse pleasure from it, especially when she adapted enough to the pain to remain conscious.

How she had survived eight days of this she did not know. Perhaps it was the small mercy that it could be worse - every time one of the other thugs accompanied Thanatos for any reason, they would stare lecherously, hungrily at her nearly naked form, and she was terrified that one of the brutes might be allowed to rape her. She didn’t think she could deal with that. Not at all.

Or perhaps it was the sheer spite and hatred that burned in her heart. She may be caged now, but even now she was certain she would have the chance to wreak terrible vengeance upon this thuggish mundane.

It could also have been the fact that Thanatos clearly wanted her alive. If he went too far, he would never get his family holdings back. She may not have had an heir, but she had enough influential nobles chasing her holdings that if she died Thanatos would only get to see the estate torn up and divided between greedy, ruthless would-be-lords. That, she imagined, was why he was making such an effort to keep her injuries well cared for.

It was then that Thanatos returned. Lana could not help but wonder what new torment he had in store for her today. As had become the norm in the morning, he brought food and water, opened her cell and ungagged her so that she might eat. She hungrily gulped it down, staying silent until she had finished, only barely noticing out the corner of her eye that two of the thugs had also brought in a very large bucket filled with water.

“Once again. This can all end right now if you simply sign this document Lanaya.” Thanatos said expectantly.

She looked at the piece of parchment, seeing an escape… for a moment, doubt crept into her mind. She remembered the pain of the last week and winced. Then the hatred flooded back in. That parchment was defeat. It was humiliation. Signing it would end her political career. She would never rule Formaroth if she did. She looked up at Thanatos and glared. “I will endure your pathetic mundane torture. And I will enjoy sentencing you to a lifetime in Nyhems dungeon.” He started walking towards her, and she braced for the incoming strike even as she continued. “You have nothing. You [i]are[/i] nothing. No one will remember -” Rather than hitting her, Thanatos had reached around the back of her head and roughly grabbed a handful of her hair.

He began to drag her out of her cell towards the water. She staggered forward, realising only moments before Thanatos forced her to her knees what the water was for. She had only barely enough time to shriek “No wai-” Before he pushed her head down into the water.

She tried to cry out in shock at the coldness of the water but could only hear a muffled gurgling as the water rushed into her throat. She tried to recoil back, but Thanatos held her head firmly underwater. Panic set in quickly, but no matter how she writhed she could not get free. The thought occurred to her - in some far off quiet corner of her mind, that it would be ironic for her to die gulping water in a bucket after she had swum so freely as a dolphin and forged myths of mermaids in Nyhem.

And then it was over - Thanatos pulling her out of the water as swiftly and firmly as he had put her in it. She gasped for air, coughing and sputtering at the water she had breathed. Thanatos looked on silently, and just as she was starting to recover, he forced her back down again.

It only now, as death felt so near, that the tiny corner of her mind not enveloped in panic began to contemplate the idea of sacrificing the life of another mage to save herself. She wanted revenge - and more than that - escape, so much now, that picturing Miriam tortured or killed was beginning to seem a necessity…
[/hider]

[hider=A letter... Or Two?]
It was at about that moment that a letter was being delivered to the Knights of St. Elenor in Nyhem, addressed to Ser Glynda. Curiously, it seemed to have pieces written in two different hands. The first, clean and ordered, every bit the hand of an official used to writing formal letter. The second was much rougher, clear, but hasty evidently not the work of a noble.

To the most Holy Ser Glynda of the Knights of Saint Elenor,

I, Seneschal Victor Elan of House Dionisa, write you now due to the absence of my mistress, Duchess Lanaya Dionisa, Magister of the Circle. I hope you forgive the tardiness of this reply, for my mistress is not oft so indisposed as to provide no input on such official business. Nonetheless, I am aware of previous collaborations between her grace and the Grand Master of your order, and in light of his departure from the city, I am quite sure that she would be eager to meet with you to continue to build an equitable relationship. I shall notify her of your interest in such a meeting the moment she is no longer indisposed.

Your humble Servant, Seneschal Victor Elan.

[i]Ser Glynda,

I know it is not my place to address you so directly, but I served alongside Ser Hansen and I have nothing but the utmost respect for your order. I don’t think Victor properly relayed the direness of the situation - Mistress Lanaya has disappeared before, sure, but never like this, and never for so long without telling us. I fear some ill fate has befallen her.

If you still respect the deal that Lanaya and your Grand Master made, please help me search for her. The House Guard is stretched thin already and I know your order is well respected in the city.

Guard Captain Moros of House [s]Tha[/s] Dionisa[/i]
[/hider]