Your head pounded. Each throb sent spikes of pain behind your eyes, a relentless, pulsing rhythm.

You tried to open your eyes. The world swam into focus, blurry and tinted with gray.

You were somewhere else. Somewhere damp. Somewhere dark.

Slowly, you forced your eyes open. You were lying on a bed of damp straw. The ceiling was low, vaulted stone, and a single torch flickered in an iron bracket on the far wall.

A cell. You were in a cell.