The cold, damp air of the dwarven dungeon bit into Berdine's skin, sending shivers down her spine. The stone walls of her cell were slick with moisture, and the faint glow of torches outside cast eerie shadows that danced across the rough surface. The chains binding her wrists and ankles clinked softly as she shifted, the iron biting into her skin with every movement.
Berdine's heart raced as she tried to focus on her surroundings. The cell was small, barely large enough for her to stand or stretch out fully. She could hear the distant murmur of voices and the clanging of metal from deeper within the fortress, a constant reminder of the hostile world outside her cell.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The air smelled of damp earth and rust, a scent that clung to her nostrils and made her stomach churn. Her mind wandered to Ninloth and the others, hoping they were safe and planning her rescue. But she knew the dwarves would not make it easy.