Iron key, well preserved. The Scribes were present at each interrogation, tasked with recording the inevitable confessions of the tortured.
Used on doors in the Wall of the Holy Prohibitions.
Father, take off these things that restrain my arms and legs... Father, they are killing me... it does not help me to tell them what I did, for they want to hear what I did not do... Father... They are not looking for the truth... They want an offence against you from my mouth, Father, may the Miracle save me....