Struggling
Day 1: Arwick’s dead, and we’ve all been put in a room barely big enough for all of us to fit in. We’ve gotten a bit to eat and drink, and I’ve managed to force it down, though the others are having more trouble and Tirondel stubbornly refuses to. Then he grabs a doorknob or pulls on a drawer and falls over, unconscious. I swear, I will never understand him.
Day 2: I decided to start sawing on this bed post. It’s slow work.
Day 3: Nobody knows what to do. I suppose we are like the animals my father and I used to keep on our ranch, just biding their time until they are killed. It must suck to be them.
Day 4: We were forced to go work today, cleaning up some wreckage that the Scourge caused. I looked around for things, but couldn’t find anything. I found some bread and ate a bit, but it disappeared very quickly. I’m not the only one forced to do such desperate things just to stay alive, I suppose.
Day 5: Another slave’s been killed for keeping something. He was sucked dry by a giant monster. I won’t let that happen to me.
Day 6: The others seem to have lost all hope, but I’m still sawing at the bed post. What is Tirondel doing?
Day 7: I may die here.
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Epic × 2!

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By the way, the days are not accurate, but they're how Belegor sees it, as nothing really happens and all the time seems to bleed together.