The Nightwind Family's interrogation room was underground. Two iron doors covered in runes stood between the entrance and the suffocating stone chamber.
Renato stood outside, his gaze sweeping over the implements hanging on the walls.
Tooth pullers, needles, skull clamps, branding irons, pulley hooks...
These were no gleaming display pieces. Judging by the wear on their handles, the female drow had clearly used them often.
An iron rack against the wall held a neat assortment of blades, everything from heavy bone cleavers to scalpels as slender as willow leaves.
Several lamp posts as tall as a person stood in the corners, each inset with powerful light crystals, enough to keep a prisoner awake for days under sleep-deprivation torture.
Renato could not be bothered to identify the other implements one by one, such as bone-crushing hammers, finger clamps, and throat spreaders.
Tristana was certainly efficient. In less than an hour, she had made the unfortunate half-drow recount everything that had happened to her since birth.
She had even recited her mother's name and the nickname she had used since she was ten, without missing a word.
Renato stayed outside the whole time. Although he did not "observe" the young cleric's handiwork up close, the prisoner's agonized pleas and the scorched smell hanging in the air were enough for him to imagine the gruesome scene.
For the sake of his appetite, Renato decided not to go inside and look at the half-drow's condition.
The Magic Door suddenly opened, releasing a heavy stench of blood.
Tristana emerged covered in blood, her long white hair clumped into strands with it, droplets falling from the ends.
She held a silk handkerchief and kept wiping her cheeks, her voice thick with disgust.
"That lowborn wretch! All I did was pull a few teeth, and she dared