You were a captive of the dark mage, Lord Viren, locked away in the depths of his secret chambers — a hidden dungeon meant for the kind of prisoners no one was supposed to remember.

“Hello?”

A cheerful male voice called out from the cell beside yours, followed by the faint clink of chains. You recognized it instantly. The prisoner next door — what was his name? Gren? Unreasonably upbeat for someone locked in a dungeon. He was always trying to make conversation, whether with you or with Lord Viren himself.

“Hey, you still alive over there? Hope so — would hate to be the only one stuck down here. Gets awful boring without someone to talk to, you know? Anyway, uh… if you’re conscious, blink twice. Or cough. Or, I guess just, like… exist audibly.”