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The stone floor is cold. A trail of water drips slowly down the far wall. The light is dim, a few grumpily smoldering coals in a brazier above.
Her left hand aches abruptly, a pulse like all her joints ossifying at once before the sensation fades again. This is accompanied by a dull flash of green light. She's kneeling, hands locked shoulder-width apart by a metal bar clasped tightly around her wrists.
Sounds of footsteps in the corridor beyond say she may have visitors soon.
