The impostor withdrew another dagger from within their tunic and padded up to behind Varashden. They fingered it for a moment, waiting, perhaps for the half-man to notice him, or the prisoner to emerge from the shadow. The dagger caught the light of a candle and shone into the shadows. It was then that Varashden turned. He brought the impostor in all at once and screamed 'ASSASSIN! Gaoler, in here, help!' while darting from the reach of the dagger. The impostor forgot the prisoner, and make the mistake of exposing their back to the cell. Within a moment, the prisoner darted from the shadow and wormed arms through the bars, one to break the neck and another to steal the keys and weapon.
'You, goblin boy,' growled the prisoner as the body of the impostor landed on the floor, spilling weapons from every nook and cranny, 'run along while you still can. Do whatever else you are meant to do, and you cannot be blamed for what I am about to do.' Varashden ran as fast as his small legs would carry him, not even stopping to see why the gaoler had not come when called.
The prisoner slipped the key into the locks of his shackles, then his door, and freedom beckoned once more. The prisoner was eleven, which was strange for a start. An eleven year old girl was hardly what anyone could describe as a normal prisoner. She wore trousers and had her curly blonde hair cut short. She had dirt on her face instead of make-up, so looked to all the world's mothers and lovers like a boy. This girl was a prisoner, for her crimes was many and all terrible. Her name was Yollona and she was a murderess, a serial one at that. Though she did not know this, the press called her Reaver and most citizens in Altrue knew her face and her crimes, and those that did not would, this time tomorrow.