There isn't much point in looking for a guard; if one had been nearby, they would have already attended to you as you screamed for help and vengance over the last few hours.

So you puff, steeling yourself as you stride towards the first door. Ready to ask, no, demand the help you deserve. Whatever wretched criminal sits behind there will count itself lucky to be graced by your presence. Sure, everyone locked up in here might be considered dangerous, but

You are royalty! You are might! You are the divinely ordained monarch of this realm! Everything the sun touches is yours. And even those scuttling around in the dark effectively stand in your shadow!

Anyone who defies you will be crushed within the strong grasp of your iron fist!

They will listen to you!

...

But as the door comes ever closer...

It's becoming increasingly obvious...

You can deny it no longer...

You are small.

You pause, glancing at the signs hanging above you; by now they began to look like the magical writings and drawings your court magicians used to conjure into the clouds for your birthdays, but here they weren't homages to your beauty and grace. They loomed as ominous warnings of what lies ahead.

Most of your might is political. (For now, you remind yourself.) And without your loyals here to enforce your divine decree, perhaps the closest door isn't the best choice. Yes, perhaps somebody .. less intimidatingly large... more weak-willed would be quicker to convince: A barbarian? Way too large and brutish. An elf? Secretive, treacherous, and a filthy imitation of a human. A mage? Power-hungry and unstable maniacs, the lot of them. The goblin thief? A despicable, hideous species, abusing their gift of sentience for the most annoying deeds. But, she'd be the closest in stature to your own, and they are all easily motivated by gold. Yes, the goblin should do.

You turn on your heel and begin marching towards the last door, trying your hardest to ignore all the concerning noises you hear in passing. Unfortuantely the squelching coming from your door of choice let your mind immediately wander to the most depraved and indecent scene it could think of. You dread to imagine walking in on one of those hideous creatures in the nude - their ballooning proportions make them look so ridiculous, with hips, chests, and heads way too large for how short they are. But you've made your choice now! No cold feet! (You ignore how cold your feet genuienly are in this dark, wet dungeon.)

With some considerable effort you lift the flap covering the food slot at the bottom of the door and you jump inside. There you find...