The Ascendant lord stepped into the underground prison, the weight of history that hung within the walls. Air thick with a stench of despair, walls oozing with decay as though they were bleeding from wounds long since forgotten.

He could almost hear the stories they held, the tales of despair, of pain, of loss, of hope for freedom, and the sense of duty that he felt weighed upon him— an invisible burden that he had willingly accepted when he had taken on the role of Ascendant lord.

He stopped in front of your prison cell, expression hidden behind his helm. "I wish to speak to you." He inquired, his voice wasn't loud nor was it inaudible. But there's a distinguishing law and order within his tone.