ubergeek2012: (Default)
[personal profile] ubergeek2012
We're starting a D&D game tonight, and I felt inspired to write up a little background story that also serves as a group kicker. We all decided at character creation that the game would start with us escaping from prison, so...

(In a damp cell, there is a loose brick in a wall covered in dark stains. Behind that brick lies a note scrawled in a cramped hand...)

My name is Akris, and I leave this record behind so that my deeds might not be forgotten. If I have succeeded then let my tale be a source of inspiration for those looking to retrace my road to liberty. If I have failed, then these words may well be the last remaining memory of me. Learn from my mistakes or laugh at my folly. Either way, you will not forget me.

Before I wound up here I was a mercenary, a member of the Red Shield Company. I'd been with the company for as long as I could remember. I believe that I was given to them in trade when I was a small child. Since it now seems that I am the last survivor, I guess I'll never know for sure where I really came from. Even after I was old enough to leave, I stayed with the company. Really, I had nowhere else to go. Having been raised by soldiers, fighting is all I really know. Besides, there's not too many places that someone of my tainted bloodline would be accepted.

We were serving a contract with the Republic of Krall, patrolling the border they share with with a remnant kingdom clinging to the old ways of the last dragon empire. It should have been a simple job, we were really only there to make the local barons feel better about the borderland security. The draconian remnants were isolationists, and nobody expected any trouble from them. We were probably right, up until we got lost.

It turns out that our local guides weren't as local as they claimed. They led us too far west, into the dragonlands. We didn't realize the mistake until the sun rose on the wrong side of the lake we were camped at, and by then it was too late. They were on us before we could break camp. It seemed like a wave pouring from the trees, more kobolds than I could count led by their larger kin. We didn't stand a chance. The last thing I remember of the battle is a hammer descending, and the ground rushing to meet me.

When I regained consciousness, I was here in this cell. I don't remember the trip, which I attribute to the head injury and the fever that followed. It has made planning my escape difficult. I have only managed to learn a small part of this prison's layout, and I'm not even sure exactly where it is. I can only assume from the mountains outside that I am now far to the west of the battleground where I fell.

Recovery from my injuries was far from guaranteed. If not for rain storms bringing fresh water to leak into my cell I doubt I would have survived, as my captors seemed to have little care whether I lived or died. In time my fever cleared and my wits recovered. I believe that I will always bear the scars of my capture though, as I do not think that my right horn will ever fully grow back.

If I escape, it will serve as a constant reminder of my defeat. It will also drive me to make the best of my second chance. While previously I only opposed this kingdom as a mercenary, now it's personal. I won't be able to rest until this sad remnant of a fallen empire joins its forebears in antiquity. If I have to, I'll tear it down with my own talons. Before I am done, this prison will fall.

Enough of the future, not it is time to focus on the present, and how I got here. My kobold captors are vicious, but not as clever as they think. It was easy to make them think that my wounds and sickness forever dulled my mind. They believe that I have become a simple fool, strong enough to do the labor they don't want to do themselves and too slow and stupid to be any kind of threat. Soon they will learn the truth. In the meantime, it has allowed me to move about this section of the prison and prepare for my escape.

I could not do this myself, of course. Fortunately, I am not alone here. There are a few others kept in this block, oddities like myself that were separated from the rest of the prisoners here. Over the last few months I have managed to make contact with them and organize our escape.

First there is Fenrigar, one of the large dragon-men that rule this land. Apparently he is some sort of traitor to their kind. It's been hard to learn much about him because he's kept muzzled when I'm not feeding him. It seems our gaolers fear his flame, and with good reason. However he got here, he's as eager as I am to leave. His sword arms are strong, which we'll need to escape the walls. More importantly he has skills as a woodsman, which we'll need to make our freedom last.

Next, there is Meilee. I've never actually seen her, because she's being kept locked deep in an oubliette. Apparently she is some sort of creature that can flit from place to place without regard for obstacles, so she is kept sealed in darkness. I would normally be wary of trusting anyone I haven't met face to face, but in this place I can't afford to overlook any potential ally. She claims that she can open locks and remove the bindings placed on Fenrigar and G27, and I'll need them unfettered. It's actually quite strange talking to her, because her voice seems so alien and out of place here. It's like a cool stream in a desert of suffering. I find myself quite curious to see what she looks like.

Finally, there is my secret weapon. Apparently this prison fortress is but a shadow of its ancient self, and there are more things left here to be forgotten than just the current crop of prisoners. Fortune has conspired to deliver one of these secrets into my hands.

Because it amuses my wardens to make me do heavy labor, they had me clearing rubble from ancient unused halls. I've made the best of it, the act of moving heavy stone helping me to regain my strength. While filling one of the cells with excess boulders, I made my discovery. Bolted to the wall and half covered with debris was yet another prisoner of this citadel, unknown even to his captors.

All he has for a name is a number, G27. A man made of metal, sealed here ever since one of the great wars of a previous generation. A machine built for war, his power should give us the edge we need to overcome our guards. Unsleeping, uneating, unbreathing, he has waited for his freedom far longer than I can even comprehend. If all goes as I hope, he shall have it along with the rest of us.

I'm afraid the plan itself is quite simple. Unfortunately I don't have the resources for anything sophisticated. I've been able to salvage bits and pieces of discarded weapons and armor during my labors, most of them apparently dropped in battle when these halls were young. I've managed to cobble them together into a usable form. They're crude, but they'll serve.

The rest is just getting all of my allies together and in condition for flight. I've already sabotaged Meilee's cage, all I have to do is shift one brick and she'll be free. A detour when taking Fenrigar to dinner and a kicked brick along the way will have us all together in G27's chamber where I've hidden the equipment. If Meilee is true to her word and can remove the restraints on the others then we'll be ready to strike, hard and swift.

It is time to go. We won't stop until we see the sun again. May fortune favor you and allow you to follow our footsteps to freedom. If the fates are not so kind then keep your strength and wait. One day we will return, and we will end this place.

Date: 2008-10-24 10:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] psiko2001.livejournal.com
Nice. You've got me even more excited about game tonight. :)

That's going to rock so hard

Date: 2008-10-25 06:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jasondrake.livejournal.com
I wish I could still play on friday nights but so far it seems like I'm closing the deli. New jobs are great for money but bad for socialization


ubergeek2012: (Default)

February 2011


Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 19th, 2017 03:29 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios