Your name is DAGGER TARTARUS, THE FORGOTTEN HOSTAGE. The moon's rays don't penetrate this deep, so laps mean nothing to you. You're a satyr, sure, a STONE-COLD STALLION, but more than that, you're a timeless child of the darkness.
You have a number of INTERESTS, all of which are as DANGEROUS AND MASCULINE as you are. Like BREAKING BONES and MAKESHIFT WEAPONRY and PUSH-UPS IN THE DARK. You stalk the shadows- no. Shadows imply the existence of light, and the only light to be found here flickers dimly in the WARDEN'S WATCHTOWER.
Who is THE WARDEN? Only your TIMELESS ENEMY, the reason you're stuck in this Exemplar-forsaken abyss in the first place. He has eyes everywhere, and despite your stealth and gruelingly-honed cunning, he always manages to find you and make you do chores. PRISON chores.
You HATE doing prison chores!
ONE FATEFUL DAY, you're sure, you'll slay him. And when he gurgles his last, you'll escape this dilapidated dungeon, to join your brethren on the highest peaks and bellow victory to the wind.
ONE FATEFUL DAY.
