"Go on in, it's okay. You can see him."
The Dungeon Master was frozen at the door. He was nervous for what he'd find on the other side. But that was his player in there. His friend. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside. Just ahead, there were the bars of a secure cell visible. He could hear the Rogue's voice. He was saying something, something unclear. The nurse saw that the Dungeon Master was unsure, and so she stepped inside with him.
"Rogue, you have a visitor. Your Dungeon Master has come to see you."
The Dungeon Master crept further and saw through the cell bars. On the other side was the Rogue. He was pale and trembling. His arms were bound and his surroundings were padded. Their eyes met, but there was no recognition in the Rogue's gaze. He just continued muttering.
"It doesn't even give the length. Not in feet, not in meters, not in squares, nothing."
"The length of what, Rogue?" asked the Dungeon Master.
"Why are those words capitalized? Why are so many words capitalized?"
It was no use. He wasn't talking to them at all. He wasn't in the same room as them, in the same world as them. The Dungeon Master choked. It was too difficult for him to see. His friend of so many years, now a total stranger. The Rogue had changed.