Part 4

A few days have passed, and I’ve learned a few things. Firstly, the former guard is an Italian named Arnaldo Dragoni. Since there was nothing to do in the cell, and he surprisingly didn’t hate me for condemning him to prison, he told me how he got to Norway and became a guard. Apparently, a few years ago, he was called to Norway to receive an estate left to him by a deceased aunt, but upon arriving at the estate, he saw that it was being turned into a prison. Arnaldo was then told that he would be compensated for the estate, but only after he worked for a while as a guard at the new prison. Arnaldo, having spent most of his money traveling to Norway, accepted this offer. The longer he worked, however, the more he was told to wait a little longer for the compensation, and he soon realised that it would never come. Already annoyed with the whole situation, he decided to leave it alone and continued to work at the prison.

After hearing his story, I had sympathy for him. Also, I knew that I could trust him, and that we would be able to escape from this prison.

Part 3

Just as I thought. That guard is now my cellmate. He doesn’t say much, which suits me just fine. He did ask me what happened when he threw his sword in my cell though, and I explained everything to him. He can’t do anything about it now anyway.

I spent the next few days thinking of ways to get out. There was nothing small enough to fit inside the lock, and of course there was nothing sharp enough to cut through the bars. In fact, the only sharp thing I had was a small breadknife. I tried to think of someway to use the knife to escape, but to no avail.

Then I had an idea.
The now imprisoned guard should know everything about the prison complex, including the blueprints and guard patrols. And I’m sure he wants to get out of here too. So I just need him to help me escape. The problem is, I don’t know exactly what he can do, and I don’t know if I can even trust him, since he might think that playing me into the hands of the other guards would improve his situation somehow. Unfortunately I have to risk it, because this guard’s cooperation is my only way out.

Part 2

A few minutes later, the guard came back downstairs with two other prison guards, both high ranking Captains. I could tell that they were captains because of their padded chainmail.
Before the first guard realised his ideal crime scene had changed, he told the captains his fabricated story, while they looked around and just stared at him with disbelief. When he saw their angry expressions, he looked at my cell, and then the cell of the dead prisoner, and started crying. Pathetic. He then still tried to explain that I had killed the other prisoner, and said that he had no idea what happened after that. Thankfully the captains didn’t believe him, and without a word, they seized him and carried him upstairs. I don’t know what his punishment will be, but I have a feeling he’ll soon be living in one of these cells. And since nothing will be happening for a while, I think I’ll enjoy the silence by taking a much needed rest.

Part 1

CONFUSED PRISONER

  You can call me Silent Storm. Right now I’m in a prison in Norway, and I don’t even remember why the hell I’m here. All I know is that I’m innocent…I think. Unsurprisingly, my cell is pretty boring. Stone walls, a cot, a stool, a makeshift toilet, and some shackles dangling in the back of the cell. At least they didn’t put me on those.
I can’t remember what day or month this is, but I do know that the year is 1408 A.D.

Right now some idiot in the cell across from me keeps talking about how I’m gonna die in here. If I could only break out of this cell I could shut him up. You see, I have a very short temper, and I really like to fight. Hmm, that’s probably why I’m in prison now. I guess I’ll just have to deal with the annoyance.

I had hidden a lockpick under my tongue when I was captured. I needed to wait until there were no guards in sight to try to use it. I know the basics of lockpicking, fitting the pick inside the lock, pushing the tumblers up, etc., but I always have trouble keeping the tumblers up, because if I don’t do it right, it just drops down onto the pick and breaks it. I guess I’ll try it now while there are no guards around. There are three tumblers, I’ll have to be careful. Ok, one…two are up…and finally…SNAP!

 Oh Crap! Brittle piece of junk! Now I’m definitely going to rot in here…

I hadn’t realised how loud the sound of the pick breaking was until I saw the idiot in the cell across from me wake up, and I could also hear a guard running this way. I quickly jumped into my cot, and pretended to be asleep.

The idiot was still groggy from just waking up, and had no idea what was going on when a guard bounded into the hallway. He was wearing full chainmail armor with a coat-of-arms on the front, and brandished a very impressive looking steel longsword.
The guard looked at me first, but seeing as I was “asleep”, he realised that I couldn’t have been the culprit of any troublemaking, even though I was quite awake and my eyes were wide open. He then turned to the guy in the other cell and started questioning him angrily. Of course the guy had no idea what was going on, so the guard had to use painful techniques to get that “persistent liar” to confess that he was trying to use a lockpick, and to show him the broken pick. Right now I’m still trying to figure out how the hell he could discern the sound of a lockpick breaking from about 30 yards away. I guess he had heard a whole lot of them while working as a prison guard.

Of course the guy had no lockpick to confess about, so the guard put him in the shackles in his cell, and repeatedly beat him in the head with the broad side of his sword. I wanted to laugh, but I wouldn’t dare to while an angry guard was on a rampage, so I just smiled in the dark. It’s cruel, I know, but that guy really deserved it. He was probably a serial killer or something anyway.

Either the guard with all his heightened senses was still a bit clumsy, or he was really burning with anger, because while he was beating the prisoner, he accidentally twisted his hand, and the sharp side of the sword hit the prisoner’s skull and sliced it clean off. Getting knocked upside the head was funny, but this is too much. The guard’s expression was nothing short of terror, as he stood in the dark figuring out what to do. Another guard was bound to come down soon to see what was taking the first guard so long, and he would definitely be caught. The thing that puzzled me me the most is that he kept looking at me, like I was some ignorant, sleeping prisoner. Which was good, because that was what I was going for.

Then he raised his sword in my direction! “Oh hell no!”, I thought. “You don’t have to kill me!” I was about to jump up to try to defend myself, when instead of thrusting his sword at me, he threw it at the wall behind me, then ran out back into the guards’ quarters. It took me a while to realise that he was trying to frame me and say that I killed the prisoner. Which doesn’t make any sense at all since I’m still locked up behind bars. There’s no way I could have grabbed the guard’s sword, thrown it at the other prisoner, and then somehow getting it back. But then again, nobody in this place is very smart, so I had to think fast before more guards came down to probably kill me.

As much as I wanted to keep the beautiful steel sword, there was no way I could get out of here alive with it, and I’m still locked up anyway. So I grabbed the sword and threw it back into the now dead prisoner’s cell. There, now that bastard can’t tell anyone that it was me. Besides, I’m still “asleep” anyway.