The Jailer: Look at you. Pathetic. A puppet dancing on strings.
Runecarver: I will not break... I will not break... I will not...
The Jailer: Fool. Your mind is already broken.
The Jailer: But even a broken thing can be made to serve.
The Jailer: Countless secrets extracted. Insidious designs forged into weapons for my armies.
The Jailer: But I require... more.
Runecarver: (screams in pain)
The Jailer: Your grandest design... to claim the final prize.
The Jailer: The secret that the First Ones sought to hide.
The Jailer: Yes. Your finest mourneblade...
The Jailer: ... and a crown fit for the king of the damned.
The Jailer: The vessels... of Domination.