Ironsides Family/Armstrong/Escape from Sirion One

The Hero of Democracy was captured during a skirmish in Ashforth by Sirion forces, namely the Sirion Cavalry Defence commanded by Sir Alexander Acies Dux Ducis, Duke of Parm.

Escape from Sirion

First Attempt,

Konus entered the tall overbearing dungeon casually. He waved to the gateman and kept walking past the execution grounds. He entered a side door and furthered into the holding cells. This is where he worked. He was a jail guard in the dungeons of Sirion.

The cells of Sirion City were well kept, clean and fairly easy on the prisoners. It may have been the attitude of the elves to not harass or cause too much suffering on their prisoners, although they felt at certain times punishment was warranted.

On his way in, he heard loud commotion and incomprehensible speech coming from the primary holding cell of this block. This cell was reserved for important “guests” to the prison, or was used when the cells were overcrowded. Lately, there was enough space for all prisoners, so Konus correctly assumed someone special was captured.

He entered the cell filled with his coworkers and found them in a frenzy of shouting and arguing. In the middle of them was a man with no pointer finger on his right hand tied to a wooden post. The man was calmly sitting back on the post staring intently at the wall. Some of the guards were taunting the man, others were arguing not to harass him for fear of retribution.

Konus recognized the missing finger from a story he once heard about a hero who lost it defending his homeland. He thought for a moment on who that could have been. Amidst the shouts and curses he heard the words “Hero of Democracy” and immediately connected the name to the story.

There before him was the famous Count Armstrong, Hero of Democracy. He was a legend on the East Continent known for his mighty deeds, powerful words and for his inspiring songs. That realization stunned Konus in his boots.

His first inclination was to help the hero, if at least to secure his name in the immortality of Armstrong’s song, but this desire was quickly drown out by the animosity of the guards. Never in his life did he encounter one of such renown. The Hero of Democracy, disheveled and helpless before a lowlife crowd of elvin guards. None had dared to physically humiliate or abuse the Hero of Democracy, but verbally they let loose. Most of them were doing the typical cross border jabs, saying how the Fontanese were dogs, inbred and lousy fighters. Some were disgracing Democracy with profanity and curses. Others were attacking Armstrong himself, questioning his heroism and strength, especially since he found himself caught in this dungeon. This went on for quite some time, and in the fervor of the rabble Konus found himself joining in.

All the while, Armstrong remained completely calm and docile. This disposition made the guards nervous, which led to them increasing their assault to break his spirit. They failed.

After quite a long time, they finally decided to inter him properly in a dungeon cell. They untied him from the post and attached a heavy log to his arms behind his back, tied around his chest and shoulders. Then the whole gathering paraded him around the dungeon floor celebrating their catch. Other prisoners were as amazed as the guards were to see the Hero of the Democracy in flesh; moreover, they were surprised to see him so degraded. The prisoners who were from enemy parts of East Island joined in the celebration, while those from friendly parts quietly sat grieving.

Once Armstrong was sealed in his cell the festivities were over, now it was time to discuss the serious business. A bit ahead of the cell holding our hero, the guards responsible for this floor were in council.

“How are we going to divide up the watches? Two of us have to be on the door at all times.”

“Yes, and we should have another man patrolling every half hour.”

“Who will do it?”

“Not me, I have a family to look after.”

“And I have to tend to my parents farm, they need me.”

“My horse is sick, I cannot do it.”

In this way, each guard revealed their fear of the Hero of Democracy. None had wanted the responsibility or the vicinity to our hero on fear of death. Konus decided that if he was to gain anything from his job as a prison guard, the experience of holding as brilliant a star as Armstrong was probably the best he was going to get. He thought of the story it would grant him to tell his sweet little girl. So he volunteered to be one of the twenty four hour watchmen. After two and a half hours of arguing and every chance game you can think of, the guards of this block finally made their set. Lord Armstrong was to be guarded by Konus and Higelion as the twenty four hour door guards, and Raymus as the half hour patrol.

The first night was without incident. Both Konus and Higelion acted by the book and tried very hard not to make any mistakes. It was obvious to any passer by that these two men were very nervous and uncomfortable. They stood completely straight for most of the time, and did not dare move from the spot they stood. Raymus walked by every half hour and made some kind of snarky comment such as, “Hey, how come the Hero of Democracy hasn’t torn you both to pieces yet,” or “The door is still sealed? That is odd. When is he going to burst through and eat your heads?” This put them both on edge. Konus felt the tension of guarding the Hero of Democracy tighten his chest. He was vexed by paranoia. He thought the worst was going to happen, and regretted volunteering for the job. He noticed Higelion fidget a lot and recognized the same pressure in him that he was feeling. The first night was the worst night, and it was all in their imagination.

The second night Konus tried to relieve some of the pressure, and began chatting with Higelion.

“Hey Hijel, how was your hunting expedition in Winkamus?”

“It was good, we caught a heard of elk running through our firing lines and bagged six of them. My son wasted a lot of arrows but eventually he caught one. He caught a big one!”

“Haha, he is just like his father, wasting arrows!”

From inside the cell, they heard a gruff dry voice. At first they were not sure what was said so they ignored it, then, the person inside stirred and came closer to the door. Armstrong was speaking.

“How old is your son.”

Shocked, Konus and Higelion looked at each other and whispered.

“Should I answer him?” Higelion asked,

“He is behind the iron door, I do not see why not.”

Higelion obliged.

“My son is seventeen.”

Armstrong responded.

“A good age, he is at the brink of his manhood.”

Konus then asked Armstrong a question,

“Are you a father? If I may ask…”

“No I am not.”

“Higelion has two boys and a girl, and I have a young girl.”

“You are both wealthy men. It is right for a man to have things to value; otherwise he will stray from the right path.”

“You have no children, so what can you value?” Higelion remarked.

“I value Democracy.”

“Bah! What a backwards system. It completely ignores a true system based off the land, off of nature, which is feudalism by nobility. Democracy is ignoble!”

Konus looked at Higelion as if he said something offensive, Higelion looked back shocked, he was not trying to cross the line and anger our Hero he just slipped up.

“I disagree.” Was Armstrong's response.

Konus thought it would be very bad for the two guards if they began to discuss Democracy with the Hero of Democracy, fearing that it might stir him up and cause him to break free.

“Let’s leave that to the politicians shall we? We are both lowly guards and you are a Count. What do we know about anything?”

Konus tried to look through the small barred window in the door that sealed in Armstrong, but he could not see the Hero’s face and wondered where in the cell he could be sitting.

“Where are you in there?” He asked.

No response.

Higelion looked at Konus with wide eyes, trembling.

“Oh, oh. What’s this all about?”

“Count, where are you. Answer at once!” Higelion demanded.

No response.

“Count Armstrong, are you still in there? What are we going to do Konus? We were just speaking to him, how could he have escaped so fast?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. We better find out, let’s wait for Raymus to come and then the three of us will check the cell.”

“Okay, but what if he is outside running, it will be another eight minutes before Raymus comes. That could give him enough time to find a secure hiding place. We’ll never find him that way.”

“You’re right, but it is smarter to wait for Raymus. If he escaped already, let him run. I don’t want to die.”

“The Overseer will be the one to kill us if his prized prisoner escapes! We have to check now!”

“What else would he expect? He has the Hero of Democracy in his cells, it is sure that he will escape.”

“Let’s check now.”

“No. Wait for Raymus.”

“Grab the rod I am opening the cell door.”

“No! Wait for Raymus!”

Higelion unsealed the door and swung it open. The cell was dark and seemingly empty. Higelion hesitated before entering. He slowly walked in and looked left, then, before he could look right he was grabbed on the throat and pulled further into the cell. Konus began to holler for Raymus to hurry. He heard a struggle inside the cell and raised the rod ready for attack.

Raymus ran as fast as he could towards the cell and was armed with a thick club.

“Where’s Higelion?”

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly the broken body of Higelion leaped out from the cell right into Konus and Raymus. They stumbled back and dropped the corpse to the ground. In that second Raymus noticed a blur shoot out from the cell down the hallway.

“He is running!”

Raymus and Konus chased after him and were yelling and shouting to get the other guards attention.

Higelion gurgled in the dirt as he slowly suffocated. His throat was twisted shut and his shoulders crushed. He should have waited for Raymus.

Fenderur was sharing some cheese with his dog Burk when he heard the shouts from down the hallway. He quickly dropped the food and ran to ring the alarm bell. Burk began barking wildly down the hallway and frantically running in a circle.

Then, as Fenderur was ringing the bell he no longer heard the bark of Burk. He looked over and saw Armstrong silencing the dog by shutting its throat. He pulled out his sword and attacked.

Fenderur chopped down, while Armstrong knelt and caught his forearms, then leapt in and rammed his fist into Fenderur’s chest. The elf’s heart impacted and the limp body dropped to the ground, blood flowing out from his mouth and nose.

Too soon, a swath of guards rushed in from the other direction, just as Konus and Raymus entered the scene. Armstrong snatched up the sword and took the offensive.

The skirmish lasted fourteen minutes, and four of eleven guards were killed in that corridor alone before they subdued the wrath of Armstrong. All together, the tired and beaten up guards tied and dragged the Hero back into his cell and sealed it shut. Then they collected the dead and returned to the corridor to discuss what to do next. They needed to replace the twenty four hour spot Higelion left, and none were willing to take the chance. Raymus eventually decided he would take Higelion’s spot, then the patrol position was thought to be an easier task. So the organization was returned to order and Konus and Raymus returned to guarding the cell of Armstrong Ironsides, Hero of Democracy.

You manage to get out of your cell, but are spotted on your way out of the dungeon.Despite a heroic fight, the guards overwhelm you and put you back into your cell. The ruler and judge of this realm will surely be informed.

That was the first escape attempt.

Second Attempt,

The second night, Konus and Raymus were standing guard when they heard a loud bang on the iron door to Armstrong’s cell. Both jumped and turned to look through the bars. They were unable to see what was going on.

The iron doors banged again, this time the frame cracked a little.

Raymus looked at Konus in terror.

“He’s kicking the door out!”

A third bang and the iron door broke right off of its hinges, falling flat to the ground. Before they could yell, Armstrong leapt out from the cell, lifted up Konus and tossed him down the hallway. Raymus picked up the club and began to swing frantically.

Too fast, the club was caught by Armstrong and used against Raymus, breaking the facial bones into dust. Raymus dropped dead.

Konus looked over from the ground and saw Armstrong staring at him, mighty and fierce. The man looked like a living Titan, incredible, magnificent, extremely dangerous. Konus screamed with fright. Armstrong tossed him the club and told him to stand up. Konus shook his head.

Armstrong smiled and said,

“Are you not the prison guard? I just kicked the iron door down. Won’t you put me back in?”

Konus, lying in the dirt completely paralyzed with fear, stammered out the only words he could,

“You can leave if you want to. I don’t want you in our prison anyway. Please run away from me!”

“Too bad.”

Our hero turned and ran in the other direction. Konus sighed and crawled over to Raymus’ body. He began to weep.

Armstrong was running as fast as he could down the hallway, passing through the corridor where he was caught last time and passed more cells. There was yet a guard to oppose him.

Chimic was walking the patrol down the east wing completely unaware of what happened on the other side. Casually he strolled along without expecting to see the Hero of Democracy arrive right before him, panting and eyes ablaze like a demon. Chimic screamed when he saw the hero. He pulled out his sword, but was backing off into the wall.

Armstrong stared in his eyes. Chimic became hysteric, dropped the sword and collapsed to the ground and into a ball. Armstrong picked up the sword and kept running.

Eventually, the Hero of Democracy found a door that led into a dining room used by the prison guards. He stealthily tipped toed around looking for the way out. He had no idea what time it was, and so was completely caught off guard when a crew of soldiers entered the mess hall fully armed. They had just entered from night watch on the city streets, and were coming back after being relieved by the midnight crew. The Count of An Najaf had entered the room at the worst time.

The hungry guards saw the nine fingered man in prison rags carrying a sword and immediately ran into formation. There were eight of them, all at ready, swords drawn and eyes locked on our Hero. Armstrong squared off in the centre. Four were on his left and four were on his right; perfect, he thought, a fair fight.

Suddenly, the left flank of the guards rushed in at full speed, swinging skillfully into the Hero of Democracy. Armstrong parried and dodged each attack and was being forced back into the right flank by their onslaught. Instead of waiting for his rear to be surprised he did a complete one eighty and engaged the right flank head on. The guards surrounded him. He was a cornered lion.

Armstrong smiled.

The melee began with magnificent thunder. The guards clashed with the hero, and with sleek hits, many of the soldiers were being disarmed or incapacitated. Armstrong was attacking with extreme violence. Blood soaked the mess hall, splashing the tables, coating the walls. It was a dance of mayhem and misery.

After eight minutes, half of the force was dead, and two were lying on the floor dying. The remainder stood side by side against the large gate in the middle of the front wall. Armstrong was more in the centre of the room. Just then the gate began to open.

Torches from behind the gate revealed a group of guards and two nobles entering the dining hall with grandeur. When they stepped in they entered a den of hell.

The noble of prominence was Sir Erik Eyolf Serpentis, Judge of Sirion, and Count of Dolmbar. He looked at the blood stained Armstrong with a shock and then stepped forward.

“Count Armstrong, it must be. I know of your attempt from last night and am worried for the safety of my guards. Please return to your cell with civility.”

Armstrong stood in the proper stance of etiquette when speaking to a noble, that is, not in a combat stance. He dropped his sword and bowed.

“Certainly Honoured Judge, I do not wish to cause trouble in your prison. Although…” He looked at the carnage surrounding him.

“Sir Armstrong, the next time that you try to flee, be careful that you do not break an arm or a leg. I cannot impede you of trying to escape, but if you don't get to flee, do not worry. The agreements with the Judge of Fontan guarantee that you will be freed soon. will be freed soon. “

“Honourable Judge, that is indeed good news. I may still attempt to escape, for Heroics sake. Do not think it is because I am unappreciative of your hospitality.”

Sir Erik nodded.

“Good luck.”

The Judge then signaled for his entourage to follow him and they left the room. The two remaining soldiers looked at the Hero of Democracy, who then turned and walked back into the door that led him there, down the hallway and past the corridor. He walked passed Chimic who was on the ground traumatized by the gaze of our hero.

Konus was dragging Raymus down the hall. He was still weeping, but much calmer now that Armstrong had left. He turned the corner and saw the Hero of Democracy walking towards him. He yelled in horror, dropped Raymus and jumped in the other direction. Armstrong began to laugh with joy while Konus ran as fast as he could out of sight. Armstrong kept walking and entered his cell. He did not bother to fix the iron door.

Released for bad behaviour

After the second escape attempt, the elves of Sirion decided that it was better to release the Hero of Democracy than allow him to annihilate the guards of the prison. So Judge Eryk Eyolf Serpentis, Count of Dolmbar, graciously released Count Armstrong.

Visit!

While you rot in your cell, Erik Eyolf Serpentis, Judge of Sirion, Count of Dolmbar, visits you and says:

"Sir Armstrong,I heard the death count from last night and I should say that you are causing many problems for my guards. It is not very easy to maintain an arrested hero. In any way, I hope your permanence has been pleasant. All my prisoners are treated with justice and I hope you say that for your realm mates. Before the war we were allied a lot of times in the past, perhaps one day that is possible again. Good luck."

Set free! Erik Eyolf Serpentis, Judge of Sirion, Count of Dolmbar has come to your cell with good news - he is setting you free.

The prelude was unnecessary and moved to here. * Removed Prelude