After a long pause, Altwen looked at the prisoner now speaking to him. "No, that was the Royal Guard, though I can see you have a similar lack of intelligence. Perhaps that's where the mistake arose. Take my advice or stay out of my way. Maybe you don't think you belong in this room? I don't belong in this entire worthless country, and I plan on leaving it." Altwen said this and got up slowly, watching the older man. "I should warn you, I have surpassed six sins, but I am not above Wrath. Do not rouse it." Altwen walked forwards, aiming to put himself in the middle of the room. His training relied heavily on mobility, and he could not afford to be trapped in a corner if this became a fight.

Altwen looked around, searching for anything he could use. The other half of his training: resourcefulness. He was not trained in any particular weapons, but he knew how to make something into one and use it effectively. So he looked: rectangular room , 8 beds, thin sheets. Small, made for a large group, but with minimal cost in materials and space. 3 stones walls, middle one leads to outside, probably thickest. One barred wall, heavy metal door, slot presumably for food. One small window, tiny, too high to reach, barred. High ceiling, damp floor, both also stone. Not much to work with. The sheets on the bed could be used to blind a target, but not for long, rapid consolidation would be necessary. Damp floor only useful against inexperienced fighters. High ceiling means possible vertical maneuverability, though the walls would be almost impossible to climb. Not much to work with.