It seems not all of the stones were mortared in with the rest of the wall. With a little effort, they recessed into a doorway and slid open. I soon found myself in a cavernous room dimly lit by lightorb torches mounted ten yards apart on the stone walls. Eyeing me carefully was a tattered, weary figure, shackled spread-eagle to the opposite wall.
“Bag Man?” he whispered.
I suddenly became aware of my appearance. I was so covered in blood and mud from crawling in the tunnel that I must have been unrecognizable.
“No,” I whispered back. “My name is Ginger.”
The man craned his head away from the wall as far as he could to get a better look. “Two hands, two feet,” he observed. “A friend?”
“Then you’re my friend as well. I’m Hunter. Where’s Bag Man?”
“He… couldn’t make it.” I wasn’t sure how much to share. “Where am I?”
“Where are you? Where are you?” Hunter suppressed a laugh. “Where the hell do you think you are? Welcome to the Mapless Castle dungeon.”