In the dark dungeon, the light of the torches flickered.
From time to time, there were sounds of cursing and screams, and the Bugbear Guards wandered back and forth.
Alger leaned silently against the stone wall, his thin figure and pale, unnatural complexion indicating that he had not seen sunlight for a long time.
There were several horizontal lines carved on the wall.
He used these to keep track of time.
But as dozens of days passed, he could no longer distinguish time in this dark dungeon.
After that interrogation, he had been locked in the dungeon with no one caring about him.
There were no imagined tortures, no deliberate mistreatment, just eating some unknown mush daily and staying in the dark dungeon day after day.
Besides thinking and sleeping, there didn't seem to be anything else he could do.
The Bugbear Guards at the door were impossible to bribe, these simple-minded muscle-bound fellows only chatted with their comrades and had no ambitions of their own.
