Alim's dark eyes looked like a starlit sky from the reflection of the torch, the flames dancing within them. It even glinted with a barely suppressed mischief to match his smirk. He had to respect her spirit not being broken for having been captured, though a few weeks in the dungeon will break even the most spirited person. It was a shame, really. This woman seemed like she'd be fun in different circumstances. But alas, that was life. 

"If I could, you'd be talking to nobody right now, rather than the dashing man before you" he replied, giving a subtle wink. He ran a hand along the bars of the door idly, shaking his head as if he'd been given a dissatisfying meal. "You'd think older locks would be easier to pick, but the ones on mine must be truly ancient. I'd need the key... or maybe a strong Nord to break them down." He chuckled. Despite his implication of him being weaker, he yanked himself up with a simple tug of his powerful arms, planting his feet atop the bar that capered along the center of the door, and he held himself there like one of the mythical Apeman from Valenwood. 

"Alim," he said, replying with his own name. He pronounced his words with emphasis along the syllables as one would expect from someone of his province. Dark, thick hair hung and swayed around his face, cascading off his bare shoulders. "I must admit I am jealous the guards show you such treatment. You have must have done something that caused quite the stir." 
[@ImmortalBreath]