12-25-2016, 04:58 AM
Kelly was annoyed to discover that while the trap-door leading to the gate-house's ground-level was open, an iron grate had been placed over the threshold. Close examination, and one or two good shoves, revealed it was secured somehow to the stone floor outside by a thick chain woven between the bars, and fastened with a padlock the size of his fist.
Typical.
The prisoner rapped on the bars three times with the end of his staff, called "Hello?" and waited for a response.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. They're preparing for a siege, and I didn't exactly arrive looking my best. In retrospect, offering me the cellar was probably a calculated move. I wonder what would have happened if I'd said I wanted to find an inn?
"Sarge!" yelled a man he couldn't see, a young voice cracking with excitement, "The stranger we left in the lockup's awake!"
Kelly climbed back down the ladder and waited, using the time to further straighten his ponytail, and to roll some residual stiffness out of his neck and shoulders. The joints popped. Although he was mostly healed, save for some moderate-to-minor cuts and lingering bruises, his muscles were still tight from the previous night's trials, afire with ephemeral aches.
After a brief time, the prisoner heard voices above him, in whispered conversation. One was the voice that had called out. The other was, presumably, the Sargeant. The hushed discussion went on for about a minute, and when it stopped, a helmeted face appeared, kneeling by the grate. It was the gaunt, tired-looking fellow who'd directed Kelly here, looking down at the prisoner with an expression that was equal parts thoughtful and dour.
"Hello again," said Kelly. "I hope you're feeling as rested as I am."
The Sargeant's pale lips twitched.
"You're funny. Well, funny-man, I'll make this short. Earlier, you said you were a prime. Show me, and answer a couple of simple questions, and I'll let you out of there. Otherwise, here you stay until someone has the time to deal with you. D'you understand?"
Kelly nodded. "Completely." He said, and held out his hand, calling forth a scintillating, prismatic orb. It cast dazzling rainbow shadows on the walls as it pulsed with possibility. The guard made a satisfied noise, nodding his head in turn, and the prisoner closed his fist, snuffing out the ball of Omnilium.
"Good enough?"
"It'll do. Now - Who are you, and why'd you come here? Are a part of the Darkshire garrison?"
Kelly shook his head. "My name is Kelly MacAryn, and I've never been here before. As for why I'm here now, a man called Forester contacted me. He told me your town was under threat, and I agreed to help."
"You agreed? Just like that?"
"It wasn't a hard decision. Leaving aside the fact that I'm a person who values lives, if Darkshire falls, Count Dracula gains control of the Pale Moors. Speaking in terms of the overall strategic situation, that's a disaster I'd prefer to avoid."
The Sargeant frowned, squinting down at the Prime in the pit.
"'The Overall Strategic Situation?'"
Kelly smiled warmly. "I take as a wide a view of events as I can."
"Riiight... Why is your blood purple?"
"Because I'm not completely human. It's not a secret. But I'm not a monster either - just a different kind of person."
"And you came here alone."
"Yes."
The Sargeant rubbed his stubbled chin with a leather-gloved hand. He sighed heavily, the beleaguered weight of decision written plainly on his features.
"Well, we know you can fight - the boys on the walls saw you doing in that monster. And heaven knows we could use a few more Primes right about now."
The man retrieved something from his belt, fiddling with the chains. The lock opened with a resounding CLANG!
"I've got other places to be. Don't make me regret this."
Typical.
The prisoner rapped on the bars three times with the end of his staff, called "Hello?" and waited for a response.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. They're preparing for a siege, and I didn't exactly arrive looking my best. In retrospect, offering me the cellar was probably a calculated move. I wonder what would have happened if I'd said I wanted to find an inn?
"Sarge!" yelled a man he couldn't see, a young voice cracking with excitement, "The stranger we left in the lockup's awake!"
Kelly climbed back down the ladder and waited, using the time to further straighten his ponytail, and to roll some residual stiffness out of his neck and shoulders. The joints popped. Although he was mostly healed, save for some moderate-to-minor cuts and lingering bruises, his muscles were still tight from the previous night's trials, afire with ephemeral aches.
After a brief time, the prisoner heard voices above him, in whispered conversation. One was the voice that had called out. The other was, presumably, the Sargeant. The hushed discussion went on for about a minute, and when it stopped, a helmeted face appeared, kneeling by the grate. It was the gaunt, tired-looking fellow who'd directed Kelly here, looking down at the prisoner with an expression that was equal parts thoughtful and dour.
"Hello again," said Kelly. "I hope you're feeling as rested as I am."
The Sargeant's pale lips twitched.
"You're funny. Well, funny-man, I'll make this short. Earlier, you said you were a prime. Show me, and answer a couple of simple questions, and I'll let you out of there. Otherwise, here you stay until someone has the time to deal with you. D'you understand?"
Kelly nodded. "Completely." He said, and held out his hand, calling forth a scintillating, prismatic orb. It cast dazzling rainbow shadows on the walls as it pulsed with possibility. The guard made a satisfied noise, nodding his head in turn, and the prisoner closed his fist, snuffing out the ball of Omnilium.
"Good enough?"
"It'll do. Now - Who are you, and why'd you come here? Are a part of the Darkshire garrison?"
Kelly shook his head. "My name is Kelly MacAryn, and I've never been here before. As for why I'm here now, a man called Forester contacted me. He told me your town was under threat, and I agreed to help."
"You agreed? Just like that?"
"It wasn't a hard decision. Leaving aside the fact that I'm a person who values lives, if Darkshire falls, Count Dracula gains control of the Pale Moors. Speaking in terms of the overall strategic situation, that's a disaster I'd prefer to avoid."
The Sargeant frowned, squinting down at the Prime in the pit.
"'The Overall Strategic Situation?'"
Kelly smiled warmly. "I take as a wide a view of events as I can."
"Riiight... Why is your blood purple?"
"Because I'm not completely human. It's not a secret. But I'm not a monster either - just a different kind of person."
"And you came here alone."
"Yes."
The Sargeant rubbed his stubbled chin with a leather-gloved hand. He sighed heavily, the beleaguered weight of decision written plainly on his features.
"Well, we know you can fight - the boys on the walls saw you doing in that monster. And heaven knows we could use a few more Primes right about now."
The man retrieved something from his belt, fiddling with the chains. The lock opened with a resounding CLANG!
"I've got other places to be. Don't make me regret this."