(OOC: Hope Warlock doesn't mind me putting some touches of my own in his prison)
Coal Dog shivered, and hugged himself.
"It's so d**n cold in here!" he said aloud to no-one in particular.
The damp and chill tunnel gave way to a large circular chamber, with a curious zig-zag pattern on the floor.
The island man walked out onto the floor and gazed about, bewildered. This room seemed a dead end.
He walked in a circuit around the chamber twice, absently scratching his head.
He traced the zig-zag pattern with his fingers.
He struck the floor with his sword.
Sitting against the wall, Coal Dog spat irritatedly, stretched his arms, tried to remember how he had got to this cold, dark, damp place so unlike his sunny, tropical home.
A sudden loud crash broke his reverie, as the floor of the chamber sank several inches, and then several feet.
Coal Dog leapt to his feet with a shout of astonishment, and then was deposited solidly on his head as the room sank yet again.
Then, he was tumbling, tumbling through a swirling wind tunnel, a gaping void of blackness.
As Coal Dog came to, he was sliding down some sort of smooth iron chute towards a very bright light. Coal Dog's eyes popped wide in yet more astonishment as he flew at high speeds out of the chute and landed painfully in the midst of a croud of dour looking individuals, namely, a black cloaked, sinister man, a very, very short woman, a corpse clutching a dagger, a man in red and bronze armor, and a rogueish looking woman with a large bump on her forehead.
"Well, hello!" Coal Dog said cheerily. "Why the long faces?"
(OOC: Andimia, am I correct in assuming your character looks "rogueish"? You never really described her.)