Rusty Pitted Dagger
8 Damage
25/50 Durability
He reached the door and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. The key hole looked perfect for the key he had just picked up. Inserting the key, he twisted it in the lock and heard a bolt snap open. Chuckling, he pushed the door open.
Quest Completed: Escape the Intake Wing.
Receive: Five Hundred XP.
The doors groaned open as he pushed against them. He found a large hallway easily forty feet wide stretching out before him. There were two five foot wide sections of a different colored stone on the floor, adjacent to the walls. Laughing, he shook his head as it reminded him of the guiding lines in jails and prisons. “You guys are funny, going to this length in this area.” He chuckled as he stepped into the five foot section that prisoners were supposed to walk in. Might as well keep up appearances, he thought, besides the other section of floor might be trapped to trigger if a non-guard walked on it.
Quest: Escape the Forgotten Prison.
Reward: Two Thousand XP.
Thirty feet down the hall he came to a door with a plaque on it. The plaque identified the room as Records. Alburet considered going in, waffling between escaping or exploring. Who knows, he thought, this place might be closed to him once he did escape and that decided him. “Fuck it,” he said softly as he pushed on the door, causing it to open inward.
Alburet
Human Summoner
Level 2
Strength: 5
Agility: 5
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 20
Health: 200
Mana: 250
Spells:
Demon Skin
Demonic Retribution
Abilities:
None
Exploring
The door swung open silently, making Alburet leery. Stepping into the room he saw it was mostly empty, a single chest along the back wall and a desk with chair the only furniture. The only other thing of note was the Skeletal Clerk that was standing up from the desk, level two with 150/150 health. It held a letter opener in one hand and a tome in the other like a shield as it advanced towards Alburet.
Setting the torch down carefully so it wouldn't go out, Alburet quickly cast his Demonic Retribution and Demon Skin before arming himself with the dagger and a femur. He’d thought about using the torch as a weapon, but the book might have useful info and he didn't want to burn it. When the skeleton got into range it lunged at Alburet with the letter opener. Batting aside the strike with his femur, Alburet returned an attack with the dagger. Alburet chuckled happily as he saw the dagger inflict full damage, 9 points, to the mob.
The next couple of seconds were parries and blocks by each of the combatants, until the skeleton landed a slight puncture on Alburet. Two things happened as the blade pierced him, firstly Alburet grimaced- this was the first time he’d been stabbed here, and it hurt. Secondly a flame flickered out from the wound, traveling up the skeleton's arm and bursting in a small pop on its chest, damaging it. Alburet lashed out with his dagger as the mob withdrew the letter opener for another attack, landing a hit clean to its head.
After landing the critical Alburet started to fight more defensively, not wanting to get stabbed again. The earlier damage, while it had hurt, was mostly blunt trauma which had almost been like full contact sparring in a dojo. Well, minus the first one where his hand had been getting shredded by teeth. Blocking the next attack, Alburet waited, not taking the small openings which would leave him vulnerable to counters.
The fight took longer than it should have, but he only ended up getting stabbed one more time. Grimacing until his health returned to full and the pain went away, Alburet shook his head. “Full pain sensory at low levels is fucking wrong, so you know my somewhat benevolent overlords.” he said out loud, knowing that the medical staff could hear him.
He looted the mob, which netted him the letter opener, book and a new Femur Club. Picking up the torch, he examined the desk and was disappointed to discover it had no drawers and nothing on it. Setting the book down, he turned to the chest along the back wall. He nudged the lid and found the thing locked, sighing he knelt down and looked more closely at the lock. It was rusty and pitted but still held the chest closed and he didn't have a key.
Sitting down before the chest, Alburet inserted the letter opener and began to fiddle with it seeing if he could make the lock pop. After several minutes he’d made no progress so decided to try bashing the chest with a femur to try and break it open. The top of the chest crumbled inward after half a dozen blows.
The chest contained eight silver, six scrolls, a dry inkwell along with a stylus and a small shield that fit in the palm of his hand. The front of the shield was engraved with an inscription, 'Trusted Guard' and had a pin on the back so it could be attached to clothing. Chuckling, Alburet attached the shield to the front of his robe. “I'm a guard again, surely this won't go badly,” Alburet laughed as he added the silver to his bag along with the letter opener before grabbing the scrolls.
Carrying them to the desk, Alburet opened the first five which turned out to be lists of people, listing height, weight and a short description of their crimes. The sixth one was about him, describing in detail the crime he had committed in the real world. He read through it once, his facing going hard before he placed it on the ground and applied the torch to it, causing it to go up in flame quickly. “Fuck you very much for that, Mindblown,” he muttered.
Turning to the book, he opened it to find a history of the Prison he was trying to escape. Imperial Prison Alctriuz had been founded in the year 50 Imperial Reckoning by decree of the Emperor Augustus the First. Flipping to the back of the book, Alburet found it ended with the prison’s completion in the year 75 IR. It was designated to hold the very worst of the Empire’s criminals. Shrugging, he placed it in his bag along with the letter opener, maybe it would be worth something if he reached a city.
Standing back up while stretching, Alburet made sure to keep the dagger in his main hand as he left the room. Stepping across the line that should divide inmates from guards, he adjusted the badge on his robe and started down the hallway again. Another fifty feet brought him to another door that held a plaque denoting it as Processing.
He pushed the door open to find a decent sized room with three desks, two of which were broken. The sole remaining desk had a Skeletal Clerk seated at it. The skeleton glanced at him then looked away and continued to sit there. Alburet shifted into a defensive posture as it looked at him, but as it looked away a grin came over his face. Walking into the room, he noted a Decayed Guard along a back wall next to a door marked Property.
Walking over to the door Alburet pushed on the door to find it locked. Frowning he turned and saw the key on a chain around the clerk's collar bone. Pursing his lips, Alburet tried to think of a way to get the key that wouldn't start a fight. He glanced at the Decayed Guard, noting the same rotting leather and club the previous one had had. He still didn't have a chance of taking them both on at once, not with the guard having armor and a club. Simply asking for the key crossed his mind, but he dismissed the idea. If this place operated anything like real world jails, it wouldn’t work as the one who had the key was responsible for everything in that area.