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S

sageridder

Guest
Deep in a long ago depleted mine is the prison city of the doomed. Long ago left the harmonious work songs of the dwarves that dug the tunnels to only be replaced by the dread and futility of those incarcerated here. In other prisons you might even pass the time with the mindless work assignments you had thrust upon you. This is a prison exclusively for thieves and tools of any sort could lead to escape so the occupants sat like caged animals. They were the twelve most infamous thieves in the land. There was not a one in the lot that would not slit someone’s throat for coin of the realm. Although kept separate, there seemed to be one prisoner that was a leader of sorts. His name was Soloman. This night was a night like any other; quiet, dreary and hopeless. That was all broken by the sudden excitement going on. None of the prisoners had a clue as to what was going on. Guards were hollering and running about. Then all went silent. All too silent. Rumors started to spread among the prisoners. Soloman bellowed, “They have left us to rot as they go to war with the dragons. I will not live on my knees any longer. I would rather die on my feet”.

Soloman had a lock pick embedded in his left forearm. He could have used it years ago, but knew the time wasn’t right until now …
 
H

Hawaiian mage

Guest
After chewing through his arm for about 15 minutes unsecsessfully, the guards started to come back. some of them walked by his cell...

"Be ready... We could get another signal at any moment... What the hell happened here!?!" one of the guards said as he passed Soloman's blood stained cell. "We haven't starved you THAT much have we?" A different guard spoke. "We better get him in the white room, and give him some sedetives."

The guard opened up the cell gate with his taser in hand. Just at that moment another alarm went off. Both of the guards ran off without giveing the opened cell a second thought.

The pick fell out of Soloman's arm.

Now that the gate was opened, he felt pretty stupid for chewing halfway through his arm. But he at least could escape now...
 
S

sageridder

Guest
Come on,common sence imbedded just under the skin.I was hoping the use of a sharpened stone,a buckel from his clothes worn to a sharp edge,these are the most infamous thives of the relm that are not loose.A stolen hidden item of silverware,or some other concealed item.I'm not dictating the story direction,but this a middle earth setting.
 
H

Hawaiian mage

Guest
If he had something sharp enough to peirce his skin, couldn't he just use that to pick the lock?

What ever, I was just trying to progress it.
 
A

Apollo

Guest
...except that just then he collapsed from blood loss.

He woke with a start to find a Goblin Chirugeon standing over him. The Chirugeon reached for him with a mallet, saying "Oh, dear. I wasn't quite finished. Hold still for a second, I'll have to put you back under so I can finish the operation."

Solomon did not stop to consider why a Goblin was speaking plain english. All he knew was that he was not about to let a Chirugeon operate on him. He had seen what their "surgery" had done to others. He leaped off the table, and started to bolt for the door. He ony made it two steps before the dizziness caught him. He stumbled and almost lost his feet, but he knew that he had no choice but to continue. If he collapsed, who knew what the chirugeon would do to him?

Solomon wavered, but stayed on his feet and made it to the door. He leaned on the frame and turned to see the Chirugeon calling something after him.
Solomon staggered out the door, and down an alley. He had no idea where he was. The alley was empty except for a woman calling for her lost cat. He turned down the next street. All he knew was that he had to keep going. He just kept running and running.

Finally, Solomon couldn't stay on his feet. He fell, and landed at the base of a tree. He hauled himself to his knees, and leaned against the tree, gasping for breath. He was hurt, and he was tired, but he was free, and that was all that mattered.

With the adrenaline finally wearing off, Solomon noticed the pain in his left arm. He looked down to see how bad the wound was. He gasped in shock at the sight of his own arm. Or rather, his paw. It seemed the chirugeon had gotten to do some of her surgery after all. And now he knew what had happened to the lady's cat.
 
A

Apollo

Guest
Hey! While I was typing that, Sageridder and HM both posted once!

I was writing based on HM's continuation, so please don't start over.
 
R

Riva Iron-Grip

Guest
Soloman walked down the next street to find it hustling with guards of sort. They were trying to fend off what looked like a dragon...but more like a griffin. Could it be that it was both?
He didn't care. All that he wanted to do was get somewhere quiet, to rest. As he rounded a corner, an old, dirty, man fell into his arms. As Soloman stared into the man's eyes, he felt drowsy, and collapsed on the street.
***
Silk pushed his hand out between the bars of his cell. Attached to his hand was a small silver saucer that he used as a mirror. It appeared that noone was coming. Silk pulled at something in his hair, and was pleased when he fished out a small brass fork. The fork only had three prongs, and the prong on the left was bent off; while the middle prong was straight, and the right prong slightly bent outward, then inwards......
 
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