Partida Rol por web

Near the body you see a parchment. It has been rolled tightly, flattened, and stained from the years it has spent on the floor. Written in tiny letters, you find a day to day journal written by this cells final inmate. Due to the handwriting, age, and condition, most of the entries are illegible.

Day one:
Finally, I have been able to access a parchment and quill. I have lost all sense of time in this insufferable place. I am quite certain I have been here nearly a year since my imprisonment. There is no way to know. These slack-jawed guards refuse to answer any questions that I put forth.
They mockingly call my cell "the luxury suite". But, perhaps it is compared to the depths below. The screams of the mad can be heard even up here. One of the voices in particular constantly barks orders for the guards to return his spell book. There are heavy rumors that he is the reason that none of the guards are to be addressed by name in the lower levels.

Day ten:
These chains rub me raw. A barbaric treatment, at best. I know these gods and religions better than any "holy man". I laugh at the irony of these religious symbols they use to weigh me down. Some of these gods would punish their followers severely for applying such a punishment on someone in their name.

Day eleven:
The ones in the basement grow bold. There are whispers all over the prison. Those in the lower levels do not speak of escape. They seek to overthrow and take control. I do not know what I would do in such a plot. I doubt I would find it very difficult to influence a group that was powerful enough to not only take this fortress but maintain its resurrection. Control by the oppressors to control by the oppressed and, eventually, my control over them ... such a pleasant dream

Day thirteen:
Such a commotion! This may be it! The start of the insurrection.
There was an explosion in the dungeon just a few moments ago. The only thing that makes me nervous is that these dullards might slaughter me before I can pour my honeyed words in their ear. The guards are running all about, trying to gather arms and supplies. This is it!
The smell of smoke is starting to fill the air.