In the corner, the scrap of blanket ripples as Rizx stirs, wincing and softly hissing as she tried to loosen up her back despite all the scars that crisscrossed it and the cold stone that drew her heat away. Her brown eyes took everything in, the darkness revealing all its secrets to the goblin. Quickly, she adjusted the blanket so that it looked like she still slept in it.

Turning, the goblin flashed her pointed teeth in a fierce grin, then carefully made her way across the cell, her feet making no sound on the cold stone. She then fumbles with the drawstring of her pants, producing two wires she'd shaped into crude lock picks, and pressed her side into the cell door as she slips the picks into the key hole. In truth, she and this lock were old, familiar friends. 

She glances back at the others, then coughs deeply, a common complaint among many of the prisoners so hardly remarkable, as she twists the mechanism inside, hoping to hide the sound of the bolt retracting, assuming she managed to pick it....