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[flame99]

You wake up, slowly. For a small, thankful second, you forget where you are, but it quickly comes back to you. You had done... Something to anger a warlock. For your blasphemy, he had sent you here, to the Black Prisons. There was only one known way out, and that was at the very bottom. Unfortunately, doing this was difficult, to say the least. One would have to first get past the monsters, traps, and other things engineered specifically to kill you in horrific ways.
You take a look around you, and notice first and foremost a gaping hole in the corner of the room. If you elect to go down, it doesn't look like you'd be able to get back up. A small stream issues from a much smaller hole in a wall, before cascading into the pit. Ringing the room are sets of shackles, one of which contains a horrible mutilated corpse, which would seem to have been killed recently, as the blood is still fresh. You also notice a wooden door near by.

[Urist Mc Dwarf]

Look for any rocks or loose bricks. Remeber our name and abilities

[flame99]

You find little in the way of stones, bricks, or other loose objects. Most of the fallen off pieces have been eroded into a fine dust by this point, and those left behind aren't far from it. You think of your life before you came here, and remember your name was Charles Dixon. While you didn't have any formal training, you were skilled with a blade, and had learned to use hammers, maces, and war axes as well. You had little innate magical power, but enough to trigger magical items such as wands, staves, and scrolls, but also enough to trigger magical traps.