Azure: Gunner

Interlude 6-I

“Great PAST, tell me, why do you grant criminals Classes like Thug or Bandit? Surely such scum don’t deserve the power of Skills and Levels!”

[THE TREE OF LIBERTY MUST BE REFRESHED FROM TIME TO TIME WITH THE BLOOD OF PATRIOTS AND TYRANTS, PALADIN!]

(extended silence)

“Oh mighty PAST, do you mean to say… that criminals must rise in power so that they might be cast down, their blood mingled with that of your most holy servants, thus nurturing the great Tree of Liberty?”

[WHERE ELSE WOULD ONE FIND TYRANTS, CITIZEN?!]

“Surely the truth, wondrous PAST! Know that I, Lazlo Smith, Paladin of the 31st Level, stand ready to make the ultimate sacrifice to honor the Tree of Liberty!”

[I HAVE NO DOUBT, PALADIN!]

“Err… One small question, great PAST. Where might I find this Tree, that I may defend it with my life’s blood? Also, is there a Quest involved, perchance?”

- Lazlo Smith, Level 31 Patriotic Paladin, Fireside Chats with PAST

Elin straightened her all-black uniform. The logo, a gold serpent coiled with a set of scales, sat above her heart. She didn’t love the way her pale skin looked against the dark color, but she didn’t exactly have a choice. As a lowly Tier 0, she had been assigned to the night shift, so it was nearly sunset when she strode out of the town gates.

She walked alone down the western road, then took the north fork about a mile and half outside of town. It was another half-mile from there to the site of her new job. Arcadia State Penitentiary looked like a small town from a distance, though the walls were unusually high in proportion to their width. They had other oddities, like battlements on both sides. You couldn’t tell that from the outside, though.

Another difference compared to most towns was that the gates were shut at all times, even during the day. She walked up to the small door inset within the main gate, and pounded on it with a closed fist. A moment later, a small panel slid open, and she made out a hint of movement inside as the guard – technically her co-worker, she supposed, Identified her before unbarring the door and letting her inside.

The door opened into the main passageway through the walls. Where a normal town would probably have a raised portcullis of some kind, ASP had another set of doors, also closed tight. There were two guards stationed between the outer and middle doors at all times, and two more between the second set and the third, which opened into the interior courtyard of the prison. Along the right side of the room were a pair of arrow slits, behind which was a small guardroom with a few more guards who were usually lounging around, but theoretically able to arm themselves and fire through the slits on anyone attacking or trying to escape the prison.

No one had explained to Elin just yet how the escape, shortly before her arrival in town with that fucking Mason and twat Az, had happened. She didn’t care, honestly. She was low on cash after that Wasted motherfucker of a Magistrate back in East Bank had screwed her over. She needed a job, and the prison was the only place in town that was hiring Tier 0s with her… particular Skills.

Before she could pass through the middle doors, she had to place her hand on an enchanted stone while one of the on-duty guards channeled mana into it. Supposedly it dispelled illusions or something so they could be sure you were who you claimed to be. Satisfied, the guard gestured for her to take a seat on the stone bench along the wall opposite the arrow slits.

The middle doors could be opened only every fifteen minutes, and the inner doors were the same, but offset in their timing by five minutes. She was a little early, and had to wait a full eight minutes before the same guard produced a key, which he used to unlock one of the doors. He waited for a moment for an answering click from the other side, and then swung the door open.

Elin stood to the side as a half-dozen day shift guards sauntered out. None were below Tier 1, and most were close to or in Tier 2. Five of the six were men, which seemed to be the norm at ASP, and at least one of them leered at her on his way out, though he didn’t say anything. Her fingers twitched, itching to call her scepter and give the bastard a Pain Bolt or two for bothering her.

Once inside the inner room, she turned to the right and exited through a low, open door. Beyond the thick wall was the room that contained the arrow slits, along with another doorway to the guardroom and locker rooms, all contained within the thick walls of the prison. Inside the much smaller women’s locker room she found just two other guards preparing for their shift. One was a scarred, muscular dwarf with an actual Guard Class, and the other a thin, older woman you might mistake for a kindly aunt if you passed her on the street.

That would be a mistake, however, as Senior Guard Meryl Zimbara was a Tier 3 Thug with numerous tattoos – none of which were visible when she was fully dressed – and clear grey eyes that could go cold in the space between breaths. She was also in charge of the night shift, and she took no shits from anyone.

If any inmate – or, rumor had it, even another guard – was stupid enough to look at Senior Guard Zimbara just a little bit insolently, she would calmly, professionally, and very thoroughly beat the shit out of them with the two foot long, inch and a half thick wooden truncheon that was her Class Weapon.

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Elin had only seen her use it twice in the three weeks she’d been working at ASP, and she’d found herself quite impressed at the older woman’s ability to fracture bones without breaking them. The first time it had happened, she’d watched in stunned silence as the five-foot-five woman had absolutely demolished a Tier 2 prisoner standing a full foot taller than her, with bulging muscles on top of muscles.

The man had probably weighed three times as much as the Thug. Even though he, like all the prisoners, wore a suppression collar around the neck that cut off his access to Skills and Spells, he still had whatever Stats came with being a Tier 2 Laborer. Elin didn’t think Zimbara had even used any of her own Skills while she reduced the giant to a bloody, pleading mass on the ground. It had been quite… inspiring.

Elin shook off the memory as she moved to her locker and started putting on her armor. The thick, padded leather armor components were the same black as her baselayer – which had been transformed into the ASP uniform by the enchanted ring she was required to wear at all times when working. The black armor was supplied by ASP, and she wasn’t allowed to leave with it, so the components stayed in her locker.

Once fully attired, Elin followed Zimbara and the other woman out of the locker room into the main guardroom, where a dozen and a half men and a few women were already waiting, with more men filing in from their own locker room. Zimbara stepped to the front of the room, efficiently handing out the night’s assignments. Night shift ran from 8pm to 6am, while there were two day shifts from 6am to 2pm and noon to 8pm.

The two hour overlap between shifts at noon was when the prison got supplies delivered and select prisoner’s families or lovers were allowed to visit. It was also the time when, once every other week, any valuable mana crystals mined by the prisoners were shipped out.

For the first two weeks, Elin had been stuck on door duty, which was utterly, mind-numbingly boring. She’d barely managed to keep herself from dozing off, pacing around the cramped, dim rooms under the walls to try and stay awake. Last week, she’d finally been allowed up on the walls for the first time, and she was expecting one of the two same assignments tonight.

“Elin, Smith – you’re patrol 2 tonight. Smith, show the girl the ropes.” Zimbara’s words startled her, and she looked over at the man called Smith. She doubted anyone believed that was his real name and wondered why he bothered pretending. The scarred, lean man was about six feet tall and at least a dozen years older than Elin, and like the Senior Guard he was also in Tier 3.

Smith grunted, and she followed him out of the guardroom along with another half-dozen of the shift. Elin thought that a patrol assignment meant they be moving around inside the central courtyard as well as through some of the other buildings, none of which she’d seen the inside of yet. When the inner doors clicked open, two of the night guards stayed behind to replace the day shift, while the other four followed Smith and Elin into the prison courtyard.

The sky was getting dark, though mana lamps glowed brightly along the inner side of the prison wall. Most of the night shift would be on wall duty, patrolling the battlements and keeping their eyes open for monsters on one side and escaped prisoners on the other. Built into the wall at one corner was a guard dormitory. A dozen or so of the day shift guards slept there every night, ready to be awoken by an alarm if needed.

Smith led Elin slowly around the perimeter of the inner wall for the first hour or so, never saying a word. The bald man seemed content to prowl, occasionally fingering the knives sheathed on his left hip or the truncheon on his right. All the guards were required to carry a blunt weapon of some kind, though in Elin’s case her scepter counted. It hung comfortingly at her side though a loop on her belt, since the prison wards prevented the use of Inventory within the walls.

Finally, just when Elin found herself getting desperate for some conversation, the older man turned off the route they’d been following and led her towards the inner compound. The hundreds of prisoners incarcerated at ASP lived in four thick-walled, multi-story stone buildings surrounding a central courtyard. The buildings looked like fortresses, since their windows were no larger than arrow slits. They were too small for anyone to squeeze through, and barred as well.

Unlike the outer wall, the courtyard was dim, lit by a sparse few mana lamps near the barred entrances to each dorm building. Following Smith, she wandered aimlessly around and between the buildings for a while. When Elin tried to ask him what they were doing exactly, he gave her a withering glare and she bit her tongue.

I hate this fucking place, she thought angrily. If it hadn’t been for that fucking girl, I’d be off with the Guild now, killing monsters and Leveling. But no, she had to come along with her Advanced Tutorial bullshit. First I had to spend fucking hours standing at the Settlement Stone like a Wasted peon waiting for her, all because of some stupid hunch. Then she gets put in charge of the group when we went into the dungeon. If Mason had put Raylan in charge, I could have stood it, but that bitch… she’d barely joined the group a couple of days before!

I was supposed to be the valuable one, the Healer that everyone loves, but she just pranced in and started sucking up to Mason and the others. Then she went crazy and attacked me in the dungeon and that shit Raylan took her fucking side. On top of that, she got us lost in East Bank and then refused to fight like a Wasted coward. If we’d all fought together, I’m sure we could have called it self-defense, but no, between that bitch and fucking Block they made sure I took the fall.

Elin’s nightly ritual of cursing Az as lengthily and creatively as possible was interrupted by Smith turning towards a small building halfway between one of the dorms and the walls. They’d passed by it several times now, but this time Smith walked straight up to the door and unlocked it.

“What’s in there?” Elin asked, and this time he answered. His voice was harsh and low.

“The Pit,” he replied, and she could hear the capital ‘P’ in his tone.

“What’s that?”

“Dead gods, you are new. It’s where we put the bad boys and girls who don’t behave like good little sheep,” he replied scornfully.

She bristled at his tone, but didn’t dare say anything. Inside, the room was completely bare, with a single door on the far wall and a spiral staircase in the center that led down into the ground. Elin tensed, placing her hand on her scepter as she followed the Fighter down the twisting stairs.

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