The Lament

Deep in the Ashgray Wastes, where even the Frostmarked fear to tread, stands a structure that should not exist: a fortress of black stone that seems to absorb light rather than merely block it. This is The Lament, and it is a wound in the world—a place where suffering has accumulated for so long and so intensely that it has become a force unto itself, warping reality and corrupting all who approach.

The Lament was once an imperial "correctional research facility," a euphemism concealing its true purpose: a black site where the Old Empire's mages conducted experiments on prisoners deemed too dangerous or too expendable to warrant normal incarceration. For decades, the screams of test subjects echoed through its halls as arcanists pushed the boundaries of magical theory, ethical limits abandoned in pursuit of knowledge and power.

When the Eternal Frost came and the Empire collapsed, The Lament was sealed by its final staff—locked from the outside with every warding they could muster. They hoped to contain what they had created. They failed.

Now, thirty years later, The Lament remains a place of active malevolence. The suffering inflicted within its walls did not dissipate when the prisoners died. Instead, it crystallized, concentrated, and gained a terrible awareness. Torment itself has become manifest—an invisible presence that seeps from the facility's stones, infecting the very air around it and twisting all who enter into reflections of the agony once inflicted there.

The few who have ventured close and survived speak of hearing things: not screams, exactly, but the memory of screams. The ghost of pain. An ache that originates in the soul rather than the body. They speak of shadows that move with purpose, of walls that weep blood that isn't blood, and of whispers that promise relief if you'll only open the doors and let the prisoners out.

But there are no prisoners left in The Lament. Only the torment remains.

Physical Description

Exterior

The Lament is a squat, brutal fortress built from blocks of dark volcanic stone imported from the southern mountains. Its architecture is distinctly late-Imperial military: functional, oppressive, designed to resist both siege and escape. The main structure rises four stories above ground with no windows on the lower three levels—only narrow ventilation slits protected by iron grates.

The compound is surrounded by a 20-foot wall topped with iron spikes, now rusted and bent. A single gate, massive bronze doors inscribed with containment wards, provides entry. The doors remain sealed, though travelers report they sometimes swing slightly in windless air, as if something inside is pushing.

The most unsettling feature is the Absence Field—an area extending roughly 100 yards from the facility's walls where sound dampens unnaturally. Footsteps become muffled, voices lose resonance, and even the ever-present howl of the wastes' wind fades to uncomfortable near-silence. Some describe it as feeling like the air itself is holding its breath.

The Courtyard

Beyond the main gate lies an enclosed courtyard, originally used for prisoner exercise and transport. The ground here is paved with dark stones now cracked and heaved by ice. At the courtyard's center stands a gallows—not decorative, actively used until the very end.

What disturbs visitors most is the Stain: a large, irregular discoloration in the courtyard stones that no amount of snow can cover. The Stain is always visible, always clear of ice, and always warm to the touch. Its shape changes slowly—travelers who sketch it report subtle differences in outline when they return weeks later, as if it's growing.

The Interior (Reported)

Only three living people have entered The Lament and returned sane enough to give accounts. Their descriptions are fragmentary and sometimes contradictory, but certain elements appear consistently:

The Entry Hall

A vaulted chamber dominated by a massive registry desk of black wood. The registry books remain, pages filled with names, crimes, and dates of admission. No dates of release. Behind the desk, iron doors lead deeper into the facility. These doors are often found open when they should be locked, closed when they should be open.

The Cell Blocks

Three levels of individual cells, each 8 feet by 6 feet, with stone walls, iron-barred doors, and minimal furnishings. Many cells show signs of violence—scratches in stone, blood stains that have resisted thirty years of time, and disturbing carvings left by inmates driven mad by isolation. Several cells contain skeletons, still shackled.

The Testing Chambers

A series of larger rooms equipped with arcane apparatus—rune circles etched into floors, restraint tables, crystalline observation devices. These rooms are the epicenter of The Lament's corruption. The very stones here seem to pulse with malevolent energy, and standing in these chambers causes intense physical pain even without any visible source.

The Archive

A fireproof vault containing records of every experiment conducted, every subject tested, every ethical line crossed. The documents are preserved perfectly by the cold and by preservation spells. They make for horrifying reading—clinical descriptions of suffering inflicted in the name of magical advancement.

The Warden's Office

The facility administrator's quarters and command center. Here, the final log entry remains: "Day of Frost, Hour Unknown. The subjects are screaming even though they're already dead. The walls are screaming. We're sealing the compound. May whatever gods remain forgive us. May they not."

The Torment: A Living Curse

What makes The Lament truly dangerous is not its history but its present—the phenomenon scholars call simply The Torment.

Nature of the Effect

The Torment is not a haunting in any conventional sense. It is suffering that has become self-sustaining, a psychic feedback loop that perpetuates itself by feeding on new victims. Magic-sensitive individuals describe it as a "wound in consciousness itself" or "pain that has learned to exist without a body to feel it."

The Torment manifests in several stages as one approaches and enters The Lament:

Stage One: The Approach (100-200 yards)

Symptoms

• Unexplained feelings of dread and sorrow
• The sense of being watched by something that wishes you harm
• Intrusive thoughts of past regrets and failures
• Minor auditory hallucinations (distant weeping, chains rattling)

Effect

Psychologically unsettling but not immediately dangerous. Most travelers can push through with effort, though the experience is deeply unpleasant.

Stage Two: The Absence Field (20-100 yards)

Symptoms

• Profound silence that feels oppressive rather than peaceful
• Difficulty maintaining focus and coherent thought
• Visual hallucinations appearing at the edge of vision (figures that vanish when looked at directly)
• Physical discomfort—headaches, nausea, sensation of being crushed
• Strong compulsion to either flee or enter the facility (but not to remain in this zone)

Effect

Extended exposure (more than an hour) causes lasting psychological trauma. The Absence Field seems designed to drive people toward a binary choice: escape or enter.

Stage Three: Interior Exposure

Symptoms

• Acute physical pain without visible cause—stabbing, burning, crushing sensations cycling through the body
• Vivid, involuntary visions of the suffering inflicted in The Lament (experiencing it from the victims' perspective)
• Loss of personal identity—victims begin to believe they ARE the prisoners who died here
• Compulsion to harm oneself or others as "penance" or "completion"
• Progressive loss of ability to distinguish past from present

Effect

The Torment begins actively attempting to trap the victim, to add their suffering to its accumulated mass. Those who remain inside more than an hour rarely leave willingly and never leave unchanged.

Stage Four: Integration (Complete Corruption)

Symptoms

• Total psychological breakdown
• Victim becomes a vector for The Torment, spreading its influence to others through proximity
• Loss of all personality—the individual becomes a hollow vessel for manifest suffering
• Physical transformation begins: emaciation despite eating, skin taking on a grayish, translucent quality, eyes becoming reflective like dark glass

Effect

The victim is functionally lost. They become a Torment-Touched, a walking manifestation of The Lament's curse. The Order of the Last Light has standing orders to mercy-kill Torment-Touched on sight, though it tears at their principles to do so.

The Three Survivors

Only three people have entered The Lament since Year 0 and emerged with their minds intact (if damaged):

Brenton "Twice-Broken" Ashmark

Background: A scavenger and former Iron Hand scout who entered The Lament fifteen years ago seeking pre-Fall military intelligence.

Experience: Brenton spent four hours inside before his team dragged him out, screaming. He emerged with permanent psychological scarring and an obsessive need to document what he experienced.

Current State

Lives as a hermit near Farrow's Rest. Covered in self-inflicted scars that form patterns—he claims they're "maps of the pain" that help him remember who he is. He sometimes serves as a consultant for those planning expeditions to The Lament, though his advice is often cryptic and disturbing. He speaks of The Torment as if it's a living entity: "It doesn't want you dead. It wants you aware. Aware of every moment of suffering ever inflicted there, all at once, forever."

Affliction

Brenton experiences random, intense pain episodes where he feels injuries he never received. Healers can find no physical cause.

Sister Sara the Penitent

Background

A priest of the Old Faith who entered The Lament ten years ago, believing she could consecrate the facility and lay its victims' spirits to rest.

Experience

Sara lasted barely an hour. She performed consecration rites in three different locations before fleeing. She claims she felt the facility's prisoners reaching out to her, begging her to stay, promising that if she shared their suffering, they could finally rest.

Current State

Remains a functional member of the Order of the Last Light, but fundamentally changed. She has taken a vow of silence except for prayer, claiming that normal speech feels "obscene" after hearing what The Lament whispered to her. She refuses all comforts and lives in deliberate discomfort, believing that cushioning herself from pain is somehow an act of betrayal to those who suffered in The Lament.

Affliction

Sara can see the pain in others—not metaphorically, but literally. She perceives suffering as a visible distortion around people, which sometimes allows her to diagnose injuries or illnesses but more often simply torments her with awareness of universal suffering.

Dren Coaltallow

Background

A member of a Silver Company expedition sent to retrieve The Lament's archives twelve years ago.

Experience: Dren's team spent six hours inside, methodically searching and documenting. Of the twelve who entered, only Dren emerged. He never speaks of what happened to the others, but he carries eleven small pouches of ash that he claims are "what's left."

Current State

Employed by the Silver Company as an advisor on cursed locations and magical hazards. Functional but deeply damaged. He sleeps no more than two hours per night—claims that longer sleep brings dreams of The Lament where he experiences the deaths of every prisoner ever held there, in sequence.

Affliction

Dren's shadow doesn't match his movements. It lags slightly, and occasionally moves independently—reaching toward things, gesturing. He pretends not to notice, but observers report that the shadow seems to be trying to communicate or warn him about something.

Documented Incidents

The First Reconnaissance (Year 3)

A Solar Legion remnant squad investigated The Lament shortly after the Eternal Frost began, believing it might serve as a secure base. All fifteen soldiers entered. Three days later, two emerged—one catatonic, one in a violent frenzy. The catatonic soldier died within a week without regaining consciousness. The frenzied one killed two comrades before being subdued, and spent his final hours screaming that "they're all still in there, still being tested, it never stopped, it's happening forever."

The Legion declared The Lament off-limits thereafter.

The Black Ice Incident (Year 11)

A Black Ice Courier, pursued by raiders, took shelter in The Lament's courtyard for a single night. The raiders refused to follow—even Iceclaw Raiders know better. The Courier emerged at dawn, delivered their package successfully, then walked into the wastes without proper gear and was never seen again. The package's recipient reported that the Courier "didn't blink, didn't speak, just handed over the contract and left. Their eyes were wrong. Reflective. Like polished obsidian."

The Scholar's Expedition (Year 22)

The Aurora Conservatory funded an expedition to document The Lament comprehensively. A team of five researchers, all volunteers, equipped with protective wards and supported by combat specialists. They entered at dawn on a clear day, planning a systematic six-hour survey.

They all emerged after three hours, walking slowly, holding hands in a line. When approached, they began speaking in perfect unison, reciting prisoner numbers and experimental protocols from decades ago. They walked past the expedition's support camp without acknowledging anyone and continued into the wastes.

Tracking parties found their frozen corpses days later, arranged in a perfect circle, all facing inward. Their journals were recovered but consisted only of the same sentence written thousands of times: "It remembers. It all remembers. We help it remember."

The Child of Silence (Year 28)

A Husher of the Children of Silence entered The Lament alone, apparently seeking some form of communion or trial. Reports from distant observers (watched through telescopes from a safe mile away) indicate the cultist spent an entire day within, moving from room to room purposefully.

When they emerged, they began walking back toward the wastes, but then stopped. They stood motionless in the courtyard for three full days and nights without food, water, or shelter from the wind. On the fourth morning, they were gone—no tracks leading away, no body, simply vanished. The Children of Silence neither confirm nor deny that this event occurred.

Theories and Research

What Created The Torment?

Scholars debate what transformed The Lament from a site of historical atrocities into an actively malevolent location:

The Accumulated Suffering Theory

The most accepted explanation suggests that decades of intense, concentrated suffering created a kind of psychic scar. When the Endless Winter came, it somehow catalyzed this accumulated trauma into an active force.

The Failed Containment Hypothesis

Some believe the facility's final wardens attempted a desperate ritual to contain or neutralize the psychic pollution within The Lament. The ritual failed catastrophically, instead amplifying and preserving the suffering indefinitely.

The Experiment Continuation Theory

The darkest possibility is that The Lament's final experiments were into the nature of consciousness and suffering itself. Perhaps the mages succeeded in creating something that could experience pain independently of a physical body—and that thing still exists within the facility, unable to die, forever experiencing its own creation.

The Sympathetic Resonance Theory

A few scholars propose that The Lament resonates with something larger—that it's connected to whatever force inflicted the Eternal Frost itself, serving as a node in a network of suffering that spans the whole world.

Can It Be Destroyed?

Multiple factions have considered destroying The Lament entirely:

The Iron Hand Regiment believes total demolition would be strategically sound—one less threat on the map. However, their mage-advisors warn that destroying the physical structure might simply release The Torment without containment, allowing it to spread.

The Order of the Last Light argues that the victims' spirits might finally find rest if the facility were properly consecrated and dismantled with sacred rites. However, Sister Miren's failed attempt suggests this approach is dangerously naive.

The Aurora Conservatory insists The Lament should be studied, not destroyed—that understanding its nature could provide insight into magical corruption and perhaps even the Eternal Frost itself. Few are willing to volunteer for such research.

The Silver Company maintains detailed files on The Lament and quietly offers substantial payment for anyone who can retrieve specific items from its archives. Their interest is purely pragmatic: the facility's records contain magical formulas and experimental results worth fortunes. That the information was obtained through atrocity doesn't diminish its value.

Advice for Travelers

If you must pass near The Lament:

1. Maintain a minimum 300-yard distance. Do not cut through the Absence Field "to save time." You will not save time.
2. Never approach alone. Companions can pull you back if The Torment begins affecting you. They can also bear witness to what happened if you don't return.
3. Do not look at the structure for extended periods. Prolonged visual focus on The Lament can create a psychological "hook" that makes resisting the compulsion to enter more difficult.
4. If you hear voices calling your name, do not respond. Do not try to identify whose voice it is. Keep moving away.
5. Do not enter to rescue someone. Multiple rescue attempts have transformed single tragedies into multiple casualties. The Torment uses victims as bait.
6. If you begin experiencing unexplained pain after leaving the area, report immediately to Order of the Last Light healers. Early intervention can sometimes prevent full corruption.
7. Do not try to "make sense" of what you see or hear near The Lament. Rational analysis of the irrational invites it into your mind.

The single best advice: Choose a different route. Whatever time you save by passing close to The Lament is not worth the risk.

Related Articles

• The Day the World Broke
• The Old Empire
• Frost Madness
• The Piercing
• The Amiss
• Magical Corruption and Dissonance
• The Children of Silence
• Order of the Last Light
• The Aurora Conservatory
• The Silver Company
• Torment-Touched (Creatures)
• Cursed Locations of the Wastes

"They asked me what I saw inside. I told them the truth: I saw every choice I ever made that caused someone else pain. Every careless word, every broken promise, every time I looked away when I could have helped. And I felt what each one felt. All at once. For what seemed like years. That was just the entry hall. I didn't make it any further."

— Brenton "Twice-Broken" Ashmark, survivor

"The prisoners aren't dead. That's what people don't understand. Death would have been mercy. Whatever was done to them, whatever experiments twisted their consciousness—they're still there. Still aware. Still suffering. The bodies died thirty years ago, but the pain they felt? That became immortal."

— Unknown researcher, note found near The Lament, Year 19

"You want to know the worst part? The real horror? It's that The Lament proves suffering can outlive everything else. Hope dies. Love dies. Memory dies. The world itself dies. But pain? Pain endures. Pain remembers. And somewhere in that black fortress, pain has learned to hunger."

— Sister Miren the Penitent, recorded by Order historians (one of her few spoken statements)