The stench hit me like a wave the moment I stepped into the dungeon. It was a foul mixture of the acrid scent of black magic, mingled with the pungent odors of rust and sweat. Dina, a rogue, was no stranger to chains. They bound her, a grim testament to the harsh treatment meted out to those who strayed from the pack.
The dungeon, a place I'd never set foot in before, was a grim sight. The floor was a squalid mess, wet and caked with filth. My eyes swept over the cramped cages, barely large enough for a human to endure, let alone stand. An old, weathered table stood in the center, accompanied by a bench lacking any semblance of comfort or support. It was where Dina sat, her hands cuffed to the unforgiving chain.
Despite the squalor and the oppressive atmosphere, Dina's gaze met mine wit
