<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/0y8wEtc.jpg)  </div><br/>There's a jingling of iron chain as Zabeth eases her way into the main room.  "Whoever put us here, they seem to have a mind for games."  She sidles up to the crowd, sizing up the assembly.  "All of us have something in our cells, and--" she pauses to double-take at Mikka's robe and slippers, "... and, ah, it seems that the cell's items are not necessarily fitting to the prisoner."  She hauls up a suit of rusted chainmail-- though complete, it's seen better days.  She offers the heavy chain sheets to Alisandra.  "Unless, of course you have a use for this."<br/><br/>She sighs, offering it over.  "I'm with him.  We pool our resources here, boil some water, and make some torches.   I found a chest in my cell, that'll burn."  She shrugs, looking about.  "Let's find the bloody door already."<br/><br/>Pausing to see what the others were musing about, she notes the stains scrawled on the tablet mid-room.  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on something there.  Long fingers trace over the symbol-- a stain that strangely resembles a smudged face.  To her, however, it is eerily reminiscent of a a skull and rose.  "Memento mori," she whispers softly, continuing to stare, before consciously shaking off the crawling sensation of dread that has shaken her, for a moment.<br/><br/>Sweat causes the filmy cotton garment to cling to her, and she wipes at her forehead, leaving a small smudge of rust and dirt on her skin.  "I'll look for a way out."<br/><br/>She begins to search, checking for obvious doors first, and if she finds none she looks for loose stones, unnatural seams, or shadowy alcoves that might hold a tunnel.