You spend hours training the rats to fetch keys and then send them out

From Create Your Own Story

Both determined and desperate, you resolutely and reluctantly spend weeks training rats with the scraps of miniscule meals you recieve each day, fingers crossed, bracing, hoping against all odds that no patrolling guardsman notices the keys. You can barely make out the damn things still lying sadly on the prison floor. They remind you of your childhood.

Unlike the keys, soon enough you are able to distinguish between the rats, you even named them; all eight of the scuttlers.

"Timmy", you bark, despite your parched throat, and almost immediately a tiny silhoutte darts out of the corner, you stare through slitted, yearning eyes at the keys sitting behind the bars.

Command Timmy to fetch the keys.