Sam Harlton squatted down running his hand through the sand, trying to help himself think. He glanced around at his fellow prisoners. A young woman who had the look of a fighter. A young man fidgeting with an awkwardly sized sword. Another young man with an instrument clutched in his fingers. A young elven girl. The last one he couldn't put his finger on. Sam scratched his beard thoughtfully.
One of the guards got a little loud with his protest over the game of cards, but was mollified by the guard sitting next to him. Sam quietly stood and inched his way over to the wall of sand, grunting softly with the effort as he tried to use his staff as a measuring rod to check how deep the sand was at the top. He looked to the others and brought his finger to his lips, nodding. Then he whispered quietly as he proffered his hand to the person closest to him, "My name is Sam Harlton, pleased to meetcha."
The sand was over seven feet deep, he couldn't reach open air with his staff.
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Snippet #1381629
located in Nevelair, a part of The Dragon War, one of the many universes on RPG.
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