This sounds so weird, but I'm looking for a way for one of my characters to get hurt that will permanently affect his strength.

He has gotten through life based on his strength, and good looks so I think this would be really good for him. The only problem is, that I really don't know if the body could take that kind of trauma without dying? And I don't know what would cause permanent muscle damage.

On a side note, is this Azriel?

I think there are illnesses that can do that your body... I'm not sure exactly what you were looking for.

Yes, this is Azriel. And Ixi does it somehow. But I have no idea how.

Mmm, poor guy. It would be good for him, though. <insert evil laugh>

Ahem. Anywho, this is what I dug up. Let me know if it works.

Hm....

Well. I don't really want a disease...and I don't want him to be able to get better either as far as just normal atrophy.

Acts of violence maybe? But what would that be...?

Perhaps he could get slammed in the spine by the pommel of a sword, or have some other traumatic impact upon his spine, like being slammed against a rock.

He could be injured, and have to lay around, and have his immune system get weakened... I think Airianna would know better.

There was a story of someone who dislocated their knee (ouch!) and didn't do Physiotherapy. They regained some of their muscle...

Edit: Or you could do what Jonathan said.

I could...I like the idea of the sword pommel.

But, I'd rather not do anything to his spine because of something else that happens in the book though...any other ideas?

A head injury could possibly cause muscle weakness the same as a spinal injury, so he could get a sword pommel to the head instead of the spine.

I agree. From my limited (nonexistent?) medical knowledge, a spine, neck, head, or other nerve injury sounds realistic.

It's also possible to tear one's muscles. (It hurts just to say that...) Depending on the medical care of the age in which your story is set, such damage might be permanent. You would have to research that, though - I am just making suggestions.

This isn't exactly a muscle weakness, but he could have tendonitis? I have it in my wrists and so my muscles aren't as strong as they used to be since certain weights (could be any kind of weight from a box to turning a page) can become painful to lift. My mom had it in her ankles as a teen where she could hardly run in gym. (She mainly limped along.)

Here's a link: http://orthopedics.about.com/cs/sportsm ... onitis.htm

Okay. So I'm tying up my Nano, and recently came to a scene that I'm a bit conflicted about. I don't know if it's to graphic, but it gets more into the physical side of torture than the emotional this time. Would you tell me what you think? It's slightly long.

“Wake up. Wake up right now.”
Azriel whimpered as he felt something hard fly into his ribs.
“Spoiled brat… Wake up!”
Something hit him again, and Azriel blearily opened his eyes. “Not again,” he whimpered, closing his eyes again.
“Oh, yes. I was hoping we’d find each other.”
Azriel groaned as he felt another blow to his ribs. Something cracked.
“I told you to wake up,” Ixi hissed. “Get up onto your feet this instant.”
Azriel opened his eyes, and saw that he was in a tent, Ixi standing in front of the door.
He struggled to lift himself up off the ground, but his arms started shaking and he fell back down with pain searing through his ribs.
“Get up.”
Tears of pain filled his eyes as Ixi dealt him another savage blow, this time in the small of the back. “Get up,” his enemy hissed.
Desparate to avoid any more kicks, Azriel rolled over and looked up at Ixi. I’m not…strong enough.
“Get up!” Ixi kicked him in the stomach this time.
To his embarrassment, a little sob escaped Azriel.
“Aw. Is the little boy crying?” Ixi taunted.
“No,” Azriel forced out.
“Then get up.”
“I—can’t…” Azriel growled.
“Yes, you can. Get up.” Ixi kicked him again, this time, hard in the belly. “Get on your feet right now!”
“Stop kicking me and I’ll try!”
He didn’t know how he did it, but somehow he made it to his knees, and then to his feet. He looked at Ixi triumphantly, despite the pain flaring in his ribs and the swaying on his feet.
Ixi narrowed his eyes, and easily drove Azriel back down with a few well aimed punches.
Azriel crumpled back to the dirt, tears of pain mixing with the mud and creating slimy trails down his face. If only he had a sword and could run Ixi through…
Ixi smirked. “Get back up,” he said.
Breathing heavily, Azriel managed to raise himself to his knees. He sat there, trying to move as little as possible,
“Where’s your whore?” Ixi demanded.
“I don’t know any,” Azriel hissed.
Ixi drove his hand down hard onto the base of Azriel’s neck.
Azriel collapsed again, haziness clouding his vision.
“Where is the Lady Tane?” Ixi asked. “I’m only going to ask you one more time.”
“She’s certainly not with me,” Azriel whispered bitterly.
“I didn’t ask where she isn’t. I asked where she is.”
Azriel closed his eyes. Let Ixi kill him. He would protect Nessa to the grave, and then she would realize what could have been between them. She would mourn him and at least he would be remembered as a hero…
“She snubbed you, didn’t she?”
Not snubbed! Azriel scowled. “Just kill me.” He was expecting another blow, or another debilitating kick, but instead found that Ixi was helping him to his feet. “Now what do you want?” Azriel growled at him.
“Can you walk?”
“I can try.”
“Then follow me.”

*A part that does not pertain to torture but in which Azriel succeeds in infuriating Ixi*

Azriel wrinkled his nose into a sneer when Ixi visited him the next day. “Got permission to strangle me?” he asked.
Ixi just smiled. “No,” he said. “I really don’t want to strangle you anymore.”
“Of course not.”
The two sentries from the night before walked in, each carrying a sturdy pole.
“Set them down on either side of him,” Ixi told them. They obeyed and left again.
“Remember the question you asked me last night?” Ixi said.
Azriel nodded mutely, worrying more about why the guards were tying his hands to the poles.
“I’m going to show you why I serve.”
Azriel stiffened as he saw Ixi pull out a knife. “That’s ok,” he said weakly. “You don’t want to strangle me; I don’t want to know anymore.”
“Well, I want you to know.”
Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as Ixi took the blade, and made a little cut on the top of his wrist. “The soldiers came to my house,” he said. “And asked me to serve…I told them no, and they left.”
He dug deeply into Azriel’s flesh and started to drag the knife along down his arm. Azriel’s legs shook and gave way beneath him as all his strength went into keeping his mouth shut, but the poles held him up.
“Two weeks later, they came back,” Ixi said, watching his victim dispassionately. “And they took away me and my family.”
He gave a sudden jerk, deeper with the knife and Azriel let out a strangled cry. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” Ixi said, looking Azriel in the eyes and pausing for a moment. His voice was very cold and dispassionate, but an inferno of hatred was burning in his eyes.
Azriel said nothing, trembling beneath the pain and trying not to humiliate himself any further. He could take it.
“While I was chained helplessly, they flayed my wife,” Ixi hissed, as he pushed the knife further up Azriel’s arm, carving into the muscle as well as the skin. “When they finally finished, they let me go and I ran to try to comfort her.” He shook his head. “But she was already dead. I hear her screams every night.”
He ripped the knife up out of Azriel’s arm and smiled at the agonized scream that followed. The strip of flesh fell to the ground.
“Now for your other arm.” Ixi made the nick in Azriel’s wrist.
“Please, please, no…” Azriel whispered. “I’m sorry about your wife.”
“Being sorry doesn’t bring her back,” Ixi hissed. He started again, and this time Azriel didn’t even try to stop the cries of pain.
Ixi slowed... “They have my little girl,” he murmured absentmindedly.
Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to muster up the will to go on. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He couldn’t take it.
“I’m sorry too,” Ixi said coldly. He dug the knife in deeper and then ripped it back out of Azriel’s arm. “Maybe now you see why I serve,” he said.
He walked around behind him, and Azriel groaned in horror as he realized that Ixi was going to begin on his back.
“I know how it feels to stand by and watch the person you love die,” Ixi said, even as he plied his blade. “After Nessa has been forced to help us, the Emperor plans to execute her. If you were to help us. Her sentence might be more lenient.”
Azriel shuddered, and the blade sliced deeper into his back. “Will you give it some thought?” Ixi asked pleasantly.
Azriel nodded jerkily.
“I’ll be back with some salve.”

It didn't seem to graphic to me, but OUCH! Poor Azriel.

Ouch. That does sound like a convincing case for muscle damage

(Willow, you're still not off the hook. I want to read more in this story.)

eruheran