Those five days were both the best and the worst of Raven's life. He was fed well, and even allowed to exercise in an elaborate gymnasium of sorts, but he was guarded constantly and spent most of his time in a plush but boring room. By the fifth day, he was climbing the walls (sometimes literally) with boredom.
When he woke up on the fifth day, he was ready and eager to go. After some quick warm up exercises, he ate the light breakfast that had been left for him and sat down to wait. He had just achieved the first level trance, when something tugged at his awareness. Looking around, he saw that a heavy white mist was pouring in from a corner of the room.
Gas!
He took a deep breath and headed for the door, which was still locked tight. He pounded a few times on the door, but by then the mist had caught up with him, and as soon as it touched him, the room darkened, his senses deadened, and he fell to the floor.
Contact poison!
He was about to pass out, when he heard the door open. He could just barely make out two thin, wrinkled legs standing over him.
"The test has begun," he heard, and then all sensation faded away.
Raven awoke in a small, dimly-lit room. He was lying on a cold stone floor. He got up slowly, still feeling groggy from the gas. As he did, a piece of parchment fell from his chest onto the floor. Looking down, he noted that he was wearing only a loincloth and a single dagger, not one of his own, was at his feet. He picked it and the parchment up, flipping the blade experimentally and noting that it was plain but well made, with good balance for throwing. Otherwise, the room was empty save for a dwindling candle and a single door. Once he moved closer to the candle, he could make out the writing on the parchment. It said simply:
Thrusting the dagger into the waist of the loincloth behind his back, he exercised briefly to throw off the last effects of the gas and then examined the door. It was locked.
So, it begins.
The loincloth yielded no hidden lockpick and neither did the dagger. He could have used the dagger, but that might have damaged it. It was time to play his first ace. As he peeled away the 'scar' on his abdomen, he mentally thanked again the alchemist who had developed the flesh-colored resin which now yielded up a fine steel pick.
Raven listened carefully at the door, but could hear no sound. Bending to his task, the lock quickly opened with a satisfying click. After dowsing the candle and waiting a moment while his eyes adjusted to the dark, Raven eased the door open outward to discover a corridor perpendicular to the door. It was lit by widely spaced torches and looking in both directions he could just make out two men coming toward him from one of the passages. They were talking to each other, and thus missed it as Raven slipped out the door.
Probably the first offense, let's see what happens when they don't find me in the room.
Closing the door behind him and locking it from the outside, he move in the opposite direction from the two men and then faded into the shadows. The two thieves paused outside the door and each drew a shortsword. The first unlocked and opened the door, while the second moved in quickly from the side. At that moment, Raven emerged from the shadows, striking the first in the base of the skull with the hilt of the dagger, and slamming the door into the back of the second.
The first went down like a marionette with its strings cut, while a crash in the room signaled the second's being knocked from his feet. Transferring the dagger to his left hand, and simultaneously scooping up the shortsword the first opponent had dropped, Raven whipped open the door and burst into the room, but his haste was unnecessary. The second man's was down and unconscious with blood trickling down his face from where his skull had impacted on the opposite wall. Raven dragged the first into the room, stripped and bound them both tightly with some of their clothing and donned the rest. A search revealed that they had little of value except two daggers and a shortsword each; one had a small, cheap silver earring, which Raven also took.
Now clothed and well armed, Raven headed down the corridor from which the men had come.
Gorm's strong arm and Janna's magic are sore missed now, Raven thought as he quietly crept down the corridor, but that is a decision long past and not worth dwelling on . He could not keep images of his former companions from his thoughts, however, as he moved through the gloomy corridor. They had shared many glorious adventures, but their betrayal still cut deep and he could not forgive.
I'm better off alone.
Turning a corner, Raven found himself at the foot of an unlit stairway which led up into darkness. Time for his second ace. Raven pulled out the earring, made a quick pass over it and uttered a few arcane words. A soft glow surrounded the earring at torch-like intensity, clearly lighting the stairs, while folding his hand over the earring plunged the area into darkness once more. Examining the each step as he ascended, Raven noted that the third step from the top was more dusty than the others. Looking closer, he could find no trap or trigger on the step, but when he examined the second step, he found it.
Cute.
Gathering himself, and not trusting the rest of the stairs, he leapt up to the landing, rolling forward as he landed, narrowly avoiding the guillotine blade which slid down from the top of the opening. Ending up on his feet, he looked quickly down the corridor which stretched out in front of him, but could see nothing dangerous.
Wrapping the earring tightly in a strip of cloth, he tucked it away in his waistband, trusting to his night vision to guide him.
(To be continued)
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