You finish picking the lock to your cell and creak the door open to reveal a maze of passages.
You quietly step out of your cell and feel a cold breeze rush at you from the side. Your time in the dungeon has left you weak and tired. The chilling air eats away at what little body heat you have left. The unpleasant mildew smell doesn't help.
Down the hall, you see a torch on the wall, its flame burning boldly. Even from a distance, you can feel the warm embrace revitalize you. You're tempted to move towards it, letting it thaw the ice that's begun to seep into your bones.