Red Valor: The Five Night Plot

[Elven Doritos]

Night One

    Cell C-VXII, within the dungeons of the Imperial Palace, deep within Rhodon City, the capital of the Kettan Empire, was a rather poor place to be.

   It had been two hundred thirty-eight and a quarter days since Alan Wellington had seen anything but the moldy dungeon wall, his iron chains still not giving at his futile straining. He had spent these long days alone, confused, and quite hungry, left to plot against his captors and to wonder their intent. After all, the soldiers of the Kettan Military were rarely known for their mercy, and the black-armored officers that he had encountered  had seemed particularly cruel-hearted. Despite his curiosity, the cold metal of his shackles and his growling stomach sometimes caused him to wish the encounter had turned out otherwise, despite his otherwise survivalist traits.

   Nothing about his situation seemed right. Alan was a musician, a wandering troubadour with great skill with a lute. He had an entrancing and magical charm and he certainly used that to his advantage, but his activities never approached the criminal. He had spent a great deal of thought as to whom he had grieved to warrant his fate, but again and again, he came up with only one answer: a minor baron who had been rather displeased with a particularly lackluster performance, but Alan scarcely thought that the baron would have the influence and capacity to secure such an imprisonment.

   The door to Cell C-VXII slowly creaked open, and Alan shut his eyes defensively as the gleam of a lantern assaulted his eyes. The door slammed shut, and Alan squinted, attempting to discern  exactly who had disturbed the squalid silence of his sullied cell, but to no avail. His eyes were too adjusted to the darkness to function properly within the brilliance of the lantern.

   "Hello, Alan." The deep, commanding voice belonged to a male of approximately thirty years of age.

   Alan had to think for a moment to decipher the words. These words were the first he had heard since his incarceration, discounting his own pleas and rants. Alan attempted to respond, his voice shaky and weak. "Do not speak to me as if.... y-you know me, stranger."

   "But dear Alan," the man said with a hint of amusement, "I come to offer you freedom."

   Alan's eyes would have widened had it not been for the accursed lantern, and his surprise was clearly etched onto his haggard features. He thought for a moment, and a thin smirk furled on his lips. "You have my attention."

   The man laughed a bit. "That is good to hear. I am working with an organization that will very shortly be coming into a good deal of power. However, things are going to get messy very soon, and we could use a distraction."

   Alan shook his head. "And you need a prison break."

   Again, the man laughed. "No, we need you."