Well. These two seem plenty eager to talk, which will pass the time at least. You just need to get them going.
“What, in all this time there haven’t been any gossiping guards? I’m surprised.”
“It’s all old gossip,” grumbles one of the prisoners. “Like, someone lost an arm in the rain, and it’s Burgundy’s fault. Pah, we heard that one from old Sieve before we even left the fortress!”
“Yeah, but you know, if it’s goin’ around these parts too, it might actually be true,” the other says. “I mean, sure, I’ve heard more than one tall tale about someone survivin’ the rain. Always a real close call, remember they used to say that was how Patch lost an eye? Even though she got her name ’cause she was wearin’ the thing the day she turned up?”
“Boy, do I ever. But if they got close enough to reach your eye, your whole face would come off.”
“Right, right. But what I mean is, even aside from the obvious flaws, the stories are different. Like, Blackfish, you remember Blackfish, right? Could never keep his story straight. He said Patch killed the thing, which is ridiculous. Now, if you told me Rider killed one, that’d be one thing. I wouldn’t buy it, mind, but I wouldn’t rule it out immediately. But Patch? She’s tough, sure, but she’s only human.”
You’re not feeling comfortable right now, and that may be the point.
“There’s no sense in bringing up the rain,” you say. “I’m sticking around here no matter what you say.”
“Then give us something better to talk about,” the first prisoner jeers. “Like I said, we’re starved for good conversation. We don’t need secrets, but we do need stuff that’s more recent.”
Well. Do you have anything to say to them?
Rumors about swarms of rats?