...found a key in here. Is it yours?"

Through the thick and grainy wood of your prison door you can barely discern the sound of tinkling metal, no doubt the sound of a slightly confused guard counting his keys.  To be be quite honest with yourself, you didn't think that bluff all the way through.  Outside the birds caw and cackle at your puny attempt.  One of them you swear even screams like a old woman, but that to be a trick of the wind.

Just as you give up hope you hear the door rattle as a previously-unnoticed block of wood etches it way out level with your head and swings in on inverted hinges.  You can now see three rusted bars over a window looking out to a decisively hideous face framed by a dented metal and worn leather helmet.

The guard sneers, spits at the door and growls, "I'd suggest you quit bein' an idiot."  He glances down at your full hands and barks a laugh.  "You fancyin' a drink, boy?"

"No," you say cheerfully as you launch the sordid contents of the bucket through the window.  "I was actually just going to share!"

Your target begins hacking and sputtering, and you can now hear keys being fumbled for as the guard spits, "Yer dead, Peyton."  He yells more about calling for guards or something, but what he called you throws you into a semi-fugue state. 

[flashes of memories of women calling out that name in either alarm or passion; men cursing it in a manner much like the urine-soaked guard was doing now and - more recently - a memory of being in a fight no-to-long ago... in a tavern?  Was that why you were here... You're Peyton... why where you here...?] 

With a rush, the present swings back into focus.  You throw down the bucket, splintering it on the stones just as the door opens to let in the broad and stumbling man you had just accosted.  You assess him quickly:  wide stance, one eye closed, broad and empty searching hands, and a scabbard to his right side with an unbound short sword tucked inside.  Perfect.

In moments the man had been approached on his blind side and tripped, using his momentum and a firm kick to his rear end to send him flying all-too-quickly into the thick stones next to the cot.  At the same time you helpfully liberated his sword, seeing as he didn't need it anymore.  In all likely-hood, he would need a doctor.  You hear bone give way in that fall.

You turn to the open door and can hear guards flat-footing their way up the stairs to your level from the left.  You can't, however, hear anything coming from the right.  You could stay in the room and force a bottle-neck situation...  Daylight's wasting.  What do you do?

The End

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