KLEPTOMANIAC: THE NOT-SO-BRIGHT PROJECT

Copyright © by Michael (LoneCoyote) Springfield

CHAPTER 2: CRAGSCLEFT PRISON AND CHOCOLATE FACTORY

And did he say,
"Shall we not use this chocolate to raise money,
Seeing that the heathens love it?
Do we not already use their abandoned mines
As places for our compounds?
Do we not already use their riff-raff
As cheap labor in our factories?"
And in their youth and foolishness,
Did his brothers said,
"Yes, let's do it already!"

- Collected letters of the Meddler-in-Exile

The next day Garrotte went to see Slashy to report his failure to steal the septum. He hoped Slashy would give him another chance, because he really wanted to get accepted into the Thieves Guild.

He knocked on Slashy's door, but there was no answer. He returned a few hours later - still no answer. A couple of hours later - still no answer.

I hope he hasn't gone on vacation, Garrotte thought.

Garrotte wandered down to the Crippled Burrick pub - a favorite hangout of shady characters - to see if he could hear any news about where Slashy had gone. He ordered an ale and sat down - listening to the various conversations buzzing around the room.

"Yes," said one man. "It's true! Some salesman got mad and tried to burn down Lord Baffle's manor last night. Don't know why. They say half of the manor is burned out."

"Heh," said another man. "I bet some heads will roll when Lord Baffle gets back into town." The two men had a good laugh at that.

"Hoy, Garrotte!" called out another man.

Garrotte looked up to see Dugal coming toward him. Dugal was a fellow thief, but Garrotte regarded him as an amateur.

Dugal sat down across from Garrotte and said, "So, had any ... ah ... lucrative expeditions lately?"

In light of the rumors circulating about Lord Baffle's manor, Garrotte decided not to say anything about last night's fiasco, and replied, "No, not lately. How 'bout you?"

"Oh, yes!" said Dugal. "Two nights ago, I snuck into Rumford's just for fun, and cleaned out the place. I stole 1500 worth of loot!"

Beginner's luck, Garrotte thought. He decided to change the subject: "Say, have you seen Slashy around lately? I need to speak with him."

"Slashy?" replied Dugal. "Haven't you heard? The Hammers came and arrested him last night."

"What?!" cried Garrotte.

"Alas, 'tis true," continued Dugal. "Took him off to some place called Cragscleft Prison."

"But why?" cried Garrotte. "What'd he do?"

"They say he roughed up a Hammerite acolyte who kept pestering him to buy some chocolate hammers. Apparently, the Hammers are selling them to raise money to build a new temple or something."

"Great Builder!" cried Garrotte. "This is terrible! I've got to go break him out. He's my ticket into the Thieves Guild."

"Are you taffing me?" asked Dugal. "Break Slashy out of Cragscleft? The place is crawling with Hammerites. You'd never make it in there - nevermind getting out of there."

"Maybe you wouldn't," retorted Garrotte. "But I'm a master thief. So, where is this Hagskept anyway?"

"Cragscleft," corrected Dugal. "Well, I don't rightly know. Heard it was buried in the side of a mountain - within some abandoned mines. The Hammers are running a chocolate factory in the upper levels of the mines, but they don't go down into the lower levels."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's like this," said Dugal quietly - looking around to see if anyone was listening. "The lower levels - they're supposed to be haunted."

"Hunted?" asked Garrotte rather loudly.

At this, the pub grew a little quieter, and a few heads turned to look toward Garrotte.

"Not so loud!" whispered Dugal forcefully.

"Sorry," said Garrotte - quietly this time. "So, why would there be hunters in the lower levels? Are they infested with burricks?"

"What?" asked Dugal in confusion. "Hunters? No, I said the lower levels were haunted."

"Yes, I heard you. So what is being hunted in the lower levels?"

"No," said Dugal. "Not hunted - haunted."

"Hunted, haunted," said Garrotte. "Let's not quarrel over pronunciation."

"No," said Dugal. "I mean haunted - as in crawling with undead things."

"Well, of course they'd be undead if a hunter hasn't killed them."

"No, no," said Dugal impatiently. "I mean things that have already died and then became the undead."

"Oh," said Garrotte. "You mean things like apprehensions. I don't believe in apprehensions."

"What? I think you mean apparitions. Yes, but there's more than one kind of undead. The lower levels are rumored to contain zombies."

"Some bees?" replied Garrotte.

"No, not bees!" said Dugal in exasperation. "Look, Garrotte, you're not seriously thinking of going in there, are you?"

"Of course I am," replied Garrotte. "I'm not going to let my best chance of getting into the Thieves Guild rot away in some Hammerite prison."

"Well, then," said Dugal - getting up to leave. "It's obvious I'm not going to persuade you otherwise. I just hope that you won't end up walking forever among zombies."

"Oh, don't worry," said Garrotte. "I'm allergic to bees."

Dugal left shaking his head.

Garrotte sat sipping his ale and thinking about what Dugal had said about Cragscleft, and what he'd need to do to get ready for the job. Foremost on his mind was the fact that he'd need to find out where exactly where this Cragscleft place was.

He tossed back his head to finish the rest of his ale. As he sat the empty mug back down on the table, he was startled to find a hooded man sitting across from him. He nearly jumped out of his chair, and would've spilled his arrows if he'd had his quiver with him.

"Sorry, if I startled you," the strange man said. "I couldn't help to overhear that you're planning to break into Cragscleft."

"Umm," stammered Garrotte. "Who are you?"

"My name is not important," replied the man. "Let's just say that I'm not a big admirer of the Hammers. I spent two years locked up in Cragscleft for ... violating their tenets. So I have some information that you may find useful - like this map."

The man reached inside his cloak and pulled out a scroll, which he placed on the table.

"I can also tell you which cell contains your friend," said the man. "Of course, I would expect some compensation for this useful information."

"Like what?" asked Garrotte.

"Hmm. I think two hundred ought to do."

"Two hundred?!" complained Garrotte. "My stealthiness! The cost of inside information these days! It's getting so an honest thief can hardly make a profit!"

"Well, then," said the man as he took back the scroll and rose to leave. "Perhaps this job is out of your league after all."

"Wait!" cried Garrotte. "Alright, here's your money."

Garrotte reached inside his pocket, pulled out several coins, and placed them into the waiting palm of the strange, hooded man. The man then placed the map scroll back onto the table along with a folded up scrap of paper.

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir," the man said, and then slipped away into the crowd.

Garrotte reached for the scrap of paper, unfolded it, and began reading it. The note read: The prisoner Slashy is being held in -

"Excuse me," said a female voice.

Garrotte looked up and saw a hooded woman standing across the table from him.

"Are you Garrotte?" asked the woman.

Garrotte smiled, thinking: Ah, this must be one of my admirers. I suppose my reputation as a master thief must be irresistible to the ladies.

"Why, yes I am," Garrotte replied. "Have you come to seek my autograph?"

"Ummm, no," said the woman. "I'm a friend of Dugal's. He told me you were going to break into Cragscleft. Is that true?"

"Yes, I'm a master when it comes to infitat - infilmat - infilrat - to breaking into things."

"Well, I have a favor to ask of you," said the woman. "I believe you know of my father - Tenorro the Crateman."

"Yes, I know Tenorro!" replied Garrotte. "How's the old Cratemeister doing?"

"Not too well, I'm afraid," said the woman. "He's being held prisoner in Cragscleft. I was hoping that while you were in there you could, well, break him out. I would be … grateful … if you could do this."

"Grateful?" asked Garrotte.

"Yes," replied the woman seductively. "Very grateful."

"That's nice to hear," said Garrotte. "Because I really could use some more arrows and stuff. Maybe you could buy me some?"

"Umm," said the woman - a little confused. "Okay. Sure."

"Great!" replied Garrotte. "Don't you worry - I'll get your father out of there!"

"Thanks, Garrotte," said the woman. "Good luck."

The woman turned and slipped away through the crowd. Garrotte watched her leave.

"Excuse me, sir!" announced a man standing beside Garrotte, who did jump out of his chair this time.

"Great Builder!" exclaimed Garrotte as he picked himself up off the floor. "What's with people these days?! Always sneaking up on someone!"

"Sorry to startle you, sir," said the man. "It's just that … well … I heard that you were planning to break into Cragscleft."

"Oh, really," said Garrotte. "News sure does travel fast around here."

"Well," said the man. "I was wondering if you could do something for me while you're in there."

Garrotte sighed and asked, "What do you want?"

"Ah," said the man. "You see, I just love those chocolate hammers that the Hammerites make, but, the thing is, they're just too blasted expensive for me to buy a whole lot of 'em. I was hoping that maybe you could … well … liberate a few of them. I'd be grateful."

"Grateful?" asked Garrotte.

"Yes. Very grateful," chuckled the man.

While Garrotte thought this over, another man approached the table and said, "Hey! Are you the fellow that's breaking into Cragscleft?"

"Who wants to know?" asked Garrotte.

"Well," said the man. "You see, my cousin is locked up in Cragscleft, and I figured that while you're in there you could - "

"Oh for Builder's sake!" exclaimed Garrotte.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the door, as a Hammerite guard appeared.

"What are you doing here?!" exclaimed one man.

"Get outta here, you Hammer scum!" yelled another.

"Hold thy tongue, you heathen!" exclaimed the Hammerite. "What is this I hear concerning a filthy thief planning to defile our chocolate factory?!"

"Ummm," whispered Garrotte. "Gotta go."

Garrotte slipped to the floor and crawled to a back room while some of the more drunken patrons hurled insults (and other things) at the Hammerite guard. Garrotte found a window, crawled through it, and spilled noisily out into the street.

The next morning Garrotte set off for Cragscleft with his weapons, equipment, map, and a long list of things to steal and people to free that Dugal had brought to his apartment the previous night.

By afternoon - after stopping for directions only three times, and getting lost only twice - he managed to locate an opening in a hillside that lead to the abandoned mines below the Hammerite's prison and chocolate factory. He saw that the passageway to the mines was underwater, so he began wading toward the entrance until he could no longer stay above water.

Taking a deep breath, he dove further into the passageway. It was dark, and he had trouble figuring out which way to go. He was almost at the point of drowning when he finally broke the surface and found himself in an underground passage.

He pulled himself from the water - coughing and sputtering and gasping for air. He rested on a rock for a moment, then began looking around. He saw a single lamp casting a pale light onto what looked like a corpse lying on the ground. A multitude of flying insects swarmed around the body.

Those must be the bees that Dugal mentioned, thought Garrotte. Poor fellow. I guess he was allergic to bees too.

Beyond the corpse, he noticed a couple of passageways leading deeper into the mines. Some strange noises were coming from somewhere down those passages. It's just the wind, he assured himself.

Garrotte decided to consult his map, so he took the soaking wet scroll from his cloak and unrolled it only to discover that the ink had washed out and the map was a nothing but a big black smear on the paper.

"Cheap ink," he muttered in disgust.

He threw the paper down and started readjusting his equipment, which had gotten disheveled during the swim. It was then that he noticed his quiver was empty.

"Oh, blast it all!" he exclaimed. "The arrows must've fallen out during the swim. I really need to check into getting a better quiver."

He looked into the water to see if he could see his arrows. He thought of swimming back through the passage to find them, but the passage was too dark to see anything, and anyway he'd almost drowned getting this far. He decided he would have to make do without the arrows. I've done it before, he thought. I can do it again. Besides, I've still got my sword and my shiny new blackjack.

He chose a passage at random and began walking. Soon he found himself entering a rather well-lit area. Another body lay on the ground. Another victim of the bees, Garrotte thought.

A very strange contraption was buzzing near the far wall. The contraption consisted of two conical nodes with a blue stream of energy passing between them. Garrotte was mesmerized by the thing, and began walking toward it.

Suddenly a loud moan startled Garrotte so badly that he stumbled backward onto the ground. To his great shock, he saw that the rotting body in front of him was moving - was slowly getting to its half-decayed feet. The corpse looked at Garrotte, let out a blood-curdling moan, and began advancing.

Just then one of the leg bones of the walking corpse snapped off at the knee joint, and the corpse collapsed to the ground. It reached around to retrieve its missing leg and began trying to reattach it to no avail. Giving up its efforts, it tossed its leg aside and began crawling toward Garrotte.

In panic, Garrotte scrambled backwards until he stumbled into a deep groove in the wall. He saw a pathway which ran along the groove and wound its way upward behind the rock wall, so he scrambled up the path and emerged into a small, rock-hewn room littered with three more bodies.

Man, there must be a lot of killer bees in here to have killed this many people, he thought. I guess I'd better stay away from the bodies.

He skirted along the wall toward a series of ledges that lead upward like oversized steps to the edge of a bridge that had collapsed long ago. Far below he could see the corpse from which he escaped only moments ago. It was crawling around on the ground as if looking for something. It happened to look up at him, and upon seeing him it let out an angry moan.

"Ah, shut up, you freak!" yelled Garrotte.

Across the chasm, Garrotte could see an opening in the rock. He saw a ledge that lead to the other side, so he crawled across it and soon found himself standing on the other side of the broken bridge. He mantled up onto the lip of the opening, and saw that a passageway went steeply uphill.

He climbed up the slope and emerged into another room. There was a stained glass window mounted in the side of the rock on the far side of the room. A big hole in the floor plunged downward to lower levels of the mine. A mechanical lift system spanned the vertical shaft.

Garrotte heard some strange noises nearby, but then he had been hearing strange noises ever since he entered the mines. Still, it was with more than a little trepidation that he began walking down a long corridor that he hoped lead to the Hammerite compound. This mine was giving him the creeps.

As he walked, Garrotte wondered how the corpse he encountered could've come back to life. He must've been stung by magical bees, he thought.

As he neared the end of the corridor, he saw a sign on the far wall that read "FACTORY" and had an arrow pointing off to a side passage.

"At last!" he exclaimed as he began running toward the sign.

He was almost at the end of the corridor when a gray shape came rambling out of a connecting passage in front of him. The thing saw him and let loose a battle moan as it charged him.

Garrotte also let out a cry - of panic - as he turned and ran back down the corridor. He came back to the room with the hole in the floor - saw an opening in the wall near the stained glass window. He darted for the opening, but skidded to a halt as another walking corpse emerged from it. Garrotte turned to run back toward the broken bridge, but the first corpse was blocking his escape.

Trapped between two living dead things, he had no choice but to try and fight his way out. He reached for his sword, but it wouldn't come out of its sheath. He tugged and yanked frantically on the sword as the two zombies approached from either side, but the sword wouldn't budge.

One of the dead guys raised its decrepit arm to deliver a powerful blow. At the same time, Garrotte gave a powerful yank on his sword, and it came loose. The momentum of his yank sent Garrotte stumbling sideways just in time to avoid the zombie's blow of death. The blow missed Garrotte, but connected with the head of the other zombie - knocking it clean off his shoulders. The headless zombie began feeling the air where its head used to be, while the other zombie began waving its arms around wildly, as if in frustration.

Garrotte took the opportunity to escape. He ran back into the long corridor - heading toward the factory - but saw yet another corpse advancing toward him. So he turned and ran back toward the slope leading to the broken bridge.

As he emerged yet again into the room with the hole in the floor, Garrotte tripped on something and stumbled to the floor. As Garrotte scrambled to get back on his feet, the headless zombie tripped over him and fell into the other zombie - knocking it into the vertical lift shaft. The zombie moaned in terror as it fell a few hundred feet. Then a sickening splattering sound was heard as its parts flew all over the bottom level of the mine.

Garrotte scrambled to his feet, turned around, and suddenly found himself face-to-face with the third zombie. He stumbled backwards toward the sloped passageway leading to the bridge, and the zombie followed - moaning in delight.

Garrotte managed to get to his feet again at the top of the slope, but the zombie rushed him with a surprise blow. Garrotte lurched backwards to avoid the blow, but the zombie's hand scraped across the surface of his clothing and got caught in his quiver strap. Garrotte tumbled backwards down the slope dragging the zombie with him. Both of them went tumbling down the slope - screaming in shock all the while.

The tangled ball of Garrotte and the zombie spilled out the end of the passage and into open air. By a wild stroke of luck, Garrotte landed on the edge of the broken bridge. The zombie flew over the side still clinging to Garrotte's clothes. The momentum of the zombie nearly yanked Garrotte over the edge too, but fortunately the zombie's decaying arms weren't strong enough to withstand the force of its own weight. The zombie went plunging to the ground far below after its arms ripped from their sockets.

Garrotte was still screaming in terror as he shook himself wildly - trying to free himself from the arms still clinging to him. Finally the arms came free and fell into the chasm. Garrotte stood trembling and panting as he tried to get his wits about him.

Great Builder! he thought. This place is alive with dead people!

He rested a long while at the bridge until he had regained some of his composure. Then, with great reluctance, he headed back up the slope and toward the factory. He gave a wide berth to the headless zombie who was still wandering around feeling for its head and bumping into the walls.

Garrotte drew close again to the factory sign at the end of the corridor, and, as he did, yet another zombie emerged into the corridor from a side passage.

Garrotte was determined not to get himself trapped again, so, instead of running back the way he came, he ran toward the passage pointed to by the sign. As he rounded the corner and dashed into the passage, he saw ahead of him something that looked like a skeleton sitting in the middle of a set of tracks built for mining carts.

Garrotte was unprepared for the uneven surface of the tracks, and found himself stumbling to the ground. As he did, he heard and felt something whizzing by above him - followed by a sickening thud behind him.

He turned to see the body parts of the zombie flying all over the place. Then he looked ahead of him and saw a pile of bones collapsed onto the tracks.

He picked himself up and looked around - a little perplexed about what just happened. He found a skull near the exploded zombie and looked at it. The teeth of the skull had rotted out.

Mmm, Garrotte thought. This guy must've had a few too many chocolate hammers.

Garrotte continued walking toward the factory area. He moved through a caved-in area of the mines and emerged into a passageway. To his right was another corpse lying on the ground with flying insects buzzing about.

I'm not going that way, he thought as he turned to his left. He ducked into a dark passageway and began hearing voices ahead. Staying in the shadows, he crept to the entry of a room where two Hammerite guards were talking.

"Time was," said one Hammer, "all these halls would be packed with novices striving to learn our chocolate recipes."

"There are novices still," replied the second Hammer.

"But fewer, brother," said the first Hammer. "Fewer. Youths of this time seek to learn about taffy and licorice, not chocolate making."

"Twill be their loss when they come of age and know not how to accomplish candy making of consequence."

The conversation finished, one of the Hammers began patrolling a passageway while the other took up watch at the bottom of a stairway, which Garrotte thought must lead to the Hammerite compound. There was a single torch illuminating this area, but Garrotte had lost his water arrows a while back, and there was no way he could see of creeping into the room or getting past the guard without being spotted.

Garrotte stood in the shadows and thought for a long while about what to do. Should he try to cause a distraction to lure the guards away from their posts? Should he try to find another way in?

While musing over these things, he suddenly felt hands on his back - as if someone were feeling for something in the dark. Deeply startled, he shrieked in fright and darted into the torchlit room without realizing what he was doing.

"Who goes there?" yelled the Hammer guard.

Confronted by the Hammerite, Garrotte shrieked again and spun around to run the other way. Just then the dark shape that had touched him emerged into the torchlight, and he saw that it was the headless zombie he had encountered earlier. He shrieked yet again.

He spun around just in time to see the Hammer guard preparing to deliver a powerful blow. The guard let out a yell and swung his hammer. Garrotte ducked, and the hammer swung with a whoosh over his head. Garrotte darted for the stairs as the Hammer turned to see where his quarry had gone.

"Thou shalt not escape me!" yelled the Hammer.

Suddenly the Hammer felt hands on his back. He shrieked in fright and spun around to see a headless zombie pawing at him. He shrieked in fright again.

The headless zombie struck out blindly, and its blow happened to connect with the Hammer - sending him sprawling to the ground and knocking his hammer out of his hand.

The Hammer got to his feet and took off up the stairs screaming, "The undead are coming! To me! To me!"

The patrolling guard came running to see what the commotion was about. When he saw the headless zombie feeling the air, he ran over to it and sent its bones flying with a couple of power blows.

Then he yelled up to his companion, "Why hast thou fled, brother?! Art thou yet afraid of one of the headless undead?"

The Hammer looked at the scattered bones. To his surprise, the bones began twitching. The whole scene gave him the creeps.

"Wait for me, brother," he yelled as he took off up the stairs.

Garrotte continued running up the stairs and down a long, brightly-lit hallway. Halfway down the hall he saw two doors - one on his left and one on his right. He could hear one of the Hammerite guards coming up the stairs - yelling as they climbed - so he opened the door on his right, darted inside, and shut the door. The room wasn't much of a place to hide, but he decided to stay put for a moment to see what happened.

The guard ran past his door yelling something that sounded like, "The undead are tacky!" Garrotte puzzled over this until he realized that the guard must have meant "attacking" instead of "tacky."

Off in the distance, Garrotte heard a clacking noise as if a gate were being opened. There were more muffled voices, then someone else ran past the door yelling, "Where hast thou gone, brother?"

A half a minute later, several Hammers went past the door - heading back toward the mines.

"I didst but see one of the undead, and I destroyed it," said one guard.

"I saw another!" proclaimed a panicked guard. "This one was dressed in black and moved like the wind! I could not lay my hammer on him!"

"We had better go down there and see what is afoot," said another guard.

The guards passed on down the hall, and soon it became very quiet. Garrotte slipped out of the room and continued down the hallway.

He wandered through the stone passageways for quite a while, until he came upon a sign that pointed the way to the factory. He went through an entryway and found himself on a wooden catwalk that overlooked the factory floor. The catwalk was in shadow, so he was able to observe without being detected.

He watched as a Hammerite worker pulled a lever that tilted a huge cauldron full of chocolate. The chocolate was poured out into a mold. The worker pulled the lever again and the cauldron stopped pouring. He walked over to another lever and pulled it. The mold swung open, and the worker retrieved a delicious chocolate hammer, which he then took away to some other place in the factory.

Garrotte crawled along the catwalk and saw that there were three such chocolate hammer molding stations. Beside the third station he saw an alcove filled with crates. One of the crates was open, and he could see a multitude of chocolate hammers inside.

Well, thought Garrotte, I've lost the list of things I was suppose to steal, but I do remember that chocolate hammers were on that list. If I can somehow get down to that packing area, I can fill my loot bag with as many chocolate hammers as it can carry.

Garrotte found a set of stairs that lead down to the factory floor. He crept down and peeked around the corner at one of the chocolate molding stations.

Now, he thought. All I have to do is wait till the worker's back is turned, then I'll slip over to the packing area. This will be as easy as stealing candy from a … Hey! I am stealing candy! From the Hammers!

The worker turned his back and Garrotte made his move. He went over to an open crate filled with chocolate hammers and began filling his loot bag.

"Hey!" yelled someone.

Garrotte looked up to see one of the factory workers standing on the other side of the crate. The two others were moving into the alcove as well.

"What's this? A candy thief!"

"No! No!" stammered Garrotte. "I'm not a thief! I'm a … I'm a … a chocolate inspector! Yes, that's it!"

"A chocolate inspector?" inquired the factory worker. "I have not heard of such."

"Nor have I," said another worker. "Of course, no one bothers tell us about any changes. Why are we always the last to know! All these people we have to work for are so stupid, so incompetent, so lazy! I don't see why we should be the ones to have to work for these incompetent people!"

"Well said, brother," said the third worker. "I don't like it. This is not the way this place should be run."

"What are you going to do with all those hammers in that bag?" asked the first worker.

"Well … ah," Garrotte stammered, "I … ah … they didn't pass inspection, so … I … ah … I'm taking them away."

"What's wrong with them?!" demanded the first worker. "I'll have you know that my work is of the highest quality! I'll not have my craftsmanship questioned by some outsider who knows nothing of the Builder's ways!"

"Nor will I!" declared another worker, who moved threateningly toward Garrotte.

"That goes for me too!" declared the third worker, who closed in on Garrotte.

"Ah … I … ah … I've obviously made a mistake," stammered Garrotte, and then began dumping the hammers in his sack back into the crate. "There's nothing wrong with these hammers. It's … it's the lighting in here. Yes, it's terrible. I can hardly see what I'm inspecting. That's why I couldn't see the high quality of these hammers."

The factory workers continued staring at him menacingly.

"Yes … well … ah … I'd better get going," said Garrotte nervously and turned to go.

"Wait!" commanded one of the factory workers.

Garrotte froze.

"Tell the foreman that we need better lighting in here," said the worker. "And tell him we could use some better equipment too."

"Yes," chimed in another. "I need a new mold. The one I'm using is getting too worn."

"And see if you can get us something better to stand on," requested the third worker. "My feet get tired standing and walking on metal floors all day."

"I'll see what I can do," said Garrotte. Then he hastily moved on.

Garrotte moved down a twisting corridor until he approached a guard station where two Hammers stood talking.

"In truth," said one Hammer, "I have never heard such carrying on as this heathen, Slashy."

"One would think these scum have never eaten bad candy in their lives," said the other Hammer.

"For a time I thought block four might never sleep again for his complaining about how sick of sour licorice he is, but he quiets now."

"Good. Starvation or stomach aches - 'twill be the same for him in the end."

Then one of the Hammers began walking down a passageway leading deeper into the compound. Garrotte crept in the shadows past the guard station - following the Hammer.

The passage twisted through light and shadow. Garrotte figured that he had a good chance of blackjacking the patrolling Hammer if he could get close enough. So he pulled out his shiny new blackjack, raised it high over his head, and got up close to the Hammer while passing through shadow. He swung his blackjack, but the Hammer had suddenly turned a corner at a T-intersection, and the blackjack missed. The Hammer had not noticed and kept on walking.

In front of him, Garrotte saw four signs on the wall - each pointing the way to one of the four cell blocks. The Hammer was headed for cell block four where Slashy was being held.

Garrotte raised his blackjack again and quickly got behind the Hammer again. He brought his arm down to deliver a powerful blow, but the Hammer had turned yet another corner at just that instant, so Garrotte missed again.

Garrotte saw that the Hammer was now crossing a dark room. A light was flickering on the far side of the room. Garrotte figured he had time to reach the Hammer before he crossed the room, so he raised his blackjack to try once again. He crept into the room, thinking, I've got you this time - there's no where for you to turn.

Garrotte crept up behind the Hammer and was about to deliver the blow, when a voice inquired, "Who comes onto me?"

The voice startled Garrotte so badly that he dropped the jewel-encrusted blackjack. He turned to see another Hammer standing in a guard station off to his right. The Hammer he was following swung around, saw Garrotte, and exclaimed, "An intruder!"

The Hammer swung his hammer, but Garrotte had already took off running back the way he came. The other Hammer pushed an alarm button, and sirens began blaring throughout the stone hallways.

Garrotte ran back through the twisting passageways - pursued all the while by the two Hammers. He turned a corner and ran right into the arms of a third Hammer who had come to investigate the alarm.

"I have you, you … you … whoever you are!" exclaimed the Hammer.

"Hold him, brother!" commanded a pursuing Hammer. "He shall yet taste of my hammer! And this one isn't made of chocolate!"

"Nay! Do not swing, brother! Lest you hit me in the process!"

The other pursuing Hammer came running up and saw that Garrotte had been captured.

"Good! Thou hast caught him! We shall punish him proper for defiling our halls! Take him to cell block four!"

"A good idea, brother! We shall see how he likes eating sour candy for the rest of his days!"

The Hammers began searching Garrotte and stripping him of his weapons and equipment. One of the Hammers took a long, silvery, jewel-encrusted object from Garrotte's belt.

"Brothers!" exclaimed the Hammer. "Look at this! It is certainly a treasure!"

"Where did you get this?" demanded another Hammer of Garrotte.

"I … ah … it was … given to me," stammered Garrotte.

"Liar!" exclaimed the Hammer. "You stole it, didn't you!"

Garrotte looked at the ground and remained silent.

"Take him away!" commanded the Hammer. "I'll take this little pretty and show it to the priest."

Two Hammers then took Garrotte - one by each arm - and drug him down the hallway toward the cell block.

"Do you recall what the holy book said about what we Hammers used to do to thieves before Death came?" asked one Hammer.

"Yes," replied the other Hammer. "They were made to ingest the tongues of their liar brothers. And the liars were made to feast upon the hands of the thieves."

"Ah, the good ol' days," mused the first Hammer. "Now that is a proper punishment for these heathens."

"Yes," agreed the second Hammer, "but a bit messy, though. I'd hate to have to clean all that up."

"I as well," agreed the first Hammer. "But I suppose this wretch we caught today would have to eat his own hand."

"Yes, and swallow his own tongue."

The two Hammers laughed as they entered cell block four. One of them called out to the archer standing on a balcony overlooking the cell block: "Hoy, brother! Open an empty cell for us! We've caught a thief and a liar roaming our halls!"

A door to a cell slid open noisily, and the two Hammers thrust Garrotte inside. Then the door slid closed.

Garrotte went to the bars and watched the Hammers walk away.

How am I going to get out of this ordeal? he thought.

"Psst! Hey you!" whispered a nearby voice.

"Me?" asked Garrotte.

"Shhh! Not so loud!" whispered the voice. "The guard will hear you."

"Where are you?" whispered Garrotte as he looked around his cell.

"I'm in the cell next to you," replied the voice.

"Oh," said Garrotte.

"So, what did they throw you in for?" asked the voice.

"They caught me sneaking around the place," replied Garrotte. "And that's not an easy thing to do with me being a master thief and all."

"A master thief?" asked the voice. "Say, who are you?"

"My name is Garrotte. Have you heard of me? My reputation for stealthiness is well known."

"Garrotte? I don't believe it! It's me, Slashy."

"Slashy!" exclaimed Garrotte.

"Shhh! Not so loud!" urged Slashy. "What are you doing here, Garrotte?"

"I came to break you out of prison," replied Garrotte. "Although, now I suppose neither one of us is getting out of here any time soon. You don't suppose someone else will come to break us out, do you?"

"Heh!" replied Slashy. "I don't think any one cares about us."

"Why that's a rather negative attitude," commented Garrotte.

"I've learned not to be an optimistic person," replied Slashy. "So, how did you find out I was in here?"

"They told me at the Crippled Burrick pub," said Garrotte. "I was trying to find you to see if you could give me another job."

"So, you didn't go through with the Lord Baffle job, did you?"

"Well, I broke into the manor," replied Garrotte, "but I couldn't find the septum. I had to leave in a hurry, because … well … ah … I kinda set the place on fire."

"You did what?!" exclaimed Slashy.

"Shhh," said Garrotte. "Now you're being too loud."

"I don't believe it," said Slashy. "I would've like to have seen that."

"Well, the job wasn't a total disaster," said Garrotte. "I did manage to steal this really nice blackjack. It was silver and had these colored stones embedded in it."

"What?!" exclaimed Slashy. "You idiot! That wasn't a blackjack! That was the scepter! I can't believe you actually stole it!"

"You're kidding?" responded Garrotte. "That thing was the septum? I thought it would've been bigger."

"Where is it now?" asked Slashy.

"The Hammers took it from me when they captured me."

"You mean you brought that thing in here with you?" asked Slashy incredulously.

"Well, like I said, I thought it was a blackjack. How was I supposed to know it was the septum. You should've given me a better description."

Garrotte stood for a long while at the bars of his cell - listening to the moans and whines of his fellow prisoners. Finally, he had enough of it.

"Shut up!" he yelled. "All of you just shut up! I can't even hear myself think!"

Garrotte's yelling woke up the few prisoners that were sleeping, and they began moaning and whining as well.

"What am I going to do?" complained Garrotte. "I've got to get out of here. My rent is due in a couple of days. If I don't pay my landlord, he'll kick me out of my apartment!"

"Garrotte," said Slashy., "I don't think it will matter. You're going to be spending the rest of your days rotting in your cell."

"There must be some way out of here," said Garrotte.

"The only way out of here is up in that guard station on the upper level," replied Slashy. "That's where the controls are that open these bars. And the only way into that guard station is with one of the keys that the Hammers carry on their belts."

"Well, then," said Garrotte. "I'll just have to pickpocket the key whenever a Hammer walks by."

"Don't be ridiculous," commented Slashy. "Even if you could pickpocket the key, then what? You're still stuck in you cell."

"Oh. Right," said Garrotte. "Well, I'll think of something. After all, I'm a master thief."

"Heh!" replied Slashy. "You've been telling me that ever since I've known you. Just what have you ever stolen anyway?"

"Well, I stole the septum, didn't I?"

"Not on purpose," retorted Slashy. "You're so incompetent that you couldn't sneak past a statue."

"I take exception to that!" replied Garrotte.

Suddenly, Garrotte began feeling that familiar sense of urgency in his abdomen, and he muttered, "Oh no. Not now."

"What is it?" asked Slashy.

"I've got to go to the lavatory," Garrotte said in desperation.

"Heh," replied Slashy. "Fat chance of that."

"What do you mean," asked Garrotte.

"Prisoners are not allowed out of their cells," replied Slashy. "If you have to go, then you use that hole in the floor of your cell."

"You're taffing me," grunted Garrotte. "This is barbaric. I don't even have any paper in here."

"Well, that's prison life for you," replied Slashy.

"Guard!" yelled Garrotte. "Excuse me! Guard! I need to go to the lavatory!"

The prison erupted with the sound of laughter.

"Looks like we've got a jester locked up with us!" exclaimed one prisoner.

"I'm not joking!" yelled Garrotte in exasperation. "I've got to go now!"

"Keep it down!" yelled the guard from his perch on the upper level. "I'm not letting you out for any reason!"

"But I've got to go really bad!" objected Garrotte. "I can't hold it much longer!"

"Then go in your cell!" yelled the guard, and prison erupted with more laughter.

In desperation, Garrotte began looking for the hole in the floor of his cell. When he found it he realized that it was covered with a removable metal grid. He tugged on the grid, but it wouldn't budge.

"I can get this grid to come off!" said Garrotte. "I need some help!"

"Quiet down there!" yelled back the guard. "Don't make me have to come down there and silence you!"

Slashy suddenly saw an opportunity in this situation, and quietly tried to get Garrotte's attention: "Hey! Garrotte! Come over to the bars!"

"Not, now Slashy!" said Garrotte as he continued tugging on the grid. "I've to get this grid off!"

"Keep yelling for the guard," said Slashy as loudly as he dared - hoping the guard didn't hear him. "Make him come down here."

"Guard!" yelled Garrotte. "I need some help down here!"

"I said be quiet!" returned the guard.

Slashy then yelled, "Guard! This man needs some help! I think it's serious!"

Slashy noticed that some of the prisoners were watching him from within their cells, so he gestured for them to call out as well, as he continued yelling: "Guard! Guard!"

Suddenly all the prisoners took up the call, and began yelling: "Guard! Guard! I need some help down here!"

"By the Builder, that does it!" exclaimed the guard, and then pressed the alarm button.

Two guards came running at the sound of the alarm and were greeted by a prison block out of control. Everyone was yelling "Guard!" and "I need some help!" and "Let me outta here!" at the top of their voices. Meanwhile, Garrotte kept tugging at the metal floor grid in his cell to no avail.

"Quiet!" yelled the guards, but the prisoners kept on with their futile revolt.

Finally, the guards resorted thrusting their hammers at them through the bars - knocking the prisoners to the floor. Most of them got the message and went silent, but a couple of them got up and continued yelling. The Hammers ended up knocking the wind out of one of them, and rendering the other unconscious.

When order had been restored to the prison block and the alarm was switched off, one of the guards looked up at the archer and asked, "How did this get started?"

"That man in the middle cell there," answered the archer. "He and his buddy in the next cell started yelling and urged the others to do the same."

"This man is a bad influence on us!" protested Slashy as he pointed to Garrotte's cell. "He's been trying to get everyone to riot ever since he got here!"

"Quiet!" commanded the guard, as he looked sternly at Slashy.

Garrotte was oblivious to the conversation as he continued yanking on the grid. He could feel it coming loose, and this only fueled his determination to yank harder.

"Perhaps we should put this troublemaker in cell block one," suggested another guard. "There's only two or three other prisoners there. He won't be able to cause much trouble, especially if we put him in a cell away from the others."

Yes! Thought Slashy. It's working! Now they'll move Garrotte away from here and I'll have some peace.

"Open this cell," commanded the guard as he gestured at Garrotte's cell "We'll move him to cell block one. If he causes any more trouble we'll throw him in solitary confinement."

The cell door opened and one of the guards went in to fetch Garrotte, who was still tugging on the floor grid. As the guard reached for Garrotte's arm, the floor grid finally came free - propelling Garrotte backward into the guard. The grid hit the guard squarely in the forehead and knocked him unconscious.

The other guard rushed forward with his hammer thrust in front of him like a battering ram. Garrotte saw the guard just in time, and dropped to the floor in panic. The guard fell over Garrotte and toppled head first through the hole in the floor. Garrotte heard a loud thud as the guard hit the bottom of the pit. Then silence.

"Is everything okay?" called out the archer.

Garrotte held his abdomen as he considered what to do. He had to go real bad, but he wasn't out of trouble yet. He heard the sound of the door of the archer's station opening, and then footsteps running along the balcony.

Uh oh, he thought. I'd better get out of here.

He waited until the archer passed out of sight around a corner, then he slipped out of his cell. He froze at the sound of Slashy's whispering voice.

"Garrotte! Wait! Come here for a second! I've got something for you."

Reluctantly, Garrotte ran over to Slashy's cell. Without warning, Slashy reached out with both hands, grabbed Garrotte's cloak, and pulled him into the bars.

"You're not going anywhere!" proclaimed Slashy.

"What are you doing?! Let me go!" Garrotte protested as he struggled to free himself.

"Ah, ha!" exclaimed the archer as he emerged on the first floor. He ran over to Garrotte to take him from Slashy's grasp, but Slashy wasn't letting go.

"Let go of him!" yelled the archer.

The three of them struggled against one another - with Garrotte sandwiched in the middle - protesting all the while.

Finally, Slashy managed to grab the archer's head firmly in both hands. The archer grabbed onto Slashy's arms in an attempt to free himself from Slashy's grip.

"Garrotte! Get out of the way!" commanded Slashy.

Finding himself free, Garrotte slipped out from between the men. Slashy then pulled the archer's head forcefully into the bars several times. When he let go, the archer staggered and fell to the ground - unconscious.

"Quick, Garrotte! Get the key off one of the guards!" commanded Slashy.

"What were you trying to do?!" protested Garrotte. "Get me killed?!"

"I was trying to take that guard out of the picture," said Slashy. "I just used you as bait."

"Oh. Thanks a lot," Garrotte said sarcastically as he went back into his cell.

When Garrotte didn't come back out after a few seconds, Slashy called out: "Garrotte? What's going on? Can't you find the key?"

"I'm not looking for the key," returned Garrotte.

"What are you doing?" asked Slashy.

"I'm relieving myself if you must know," said Garrotte.

"Well, hurry it up! We haven't got all day!"

Finally, Garrotte emerged from his cell and held up a key for Slashy to see.

"Good," said Slashy. "Now go up to the guard station and open the door to my cell."

A few minutes later, Garrotte called down to Slashy from the guard station: "Hey! There's a red button on the wall. Do I push it?"

"No!" yelled Slashy. "That's the alarm button! Look for a set of controls."

"Found them!" yelled Garrotte.

A cell door began opening, but it wasn't Slashy's. The prisoner emerged from the cell and took off running.

"You opened the wrong cell!" yelled Slashy.

"Sorry!" yelled Garrotte. "I try this one."

Another cell door opened, but it wasn't Slashy's. Another prisoner took off running through the complex.

"No!" yelled Slashy. "That not it!"

After Garrotte had opened every cell door in block four, he finally found the control that opened Slashy's cell.

"You did it!" yelled Slashy. "Now get down here! We don't have much time!"

Garrotte ran down the stairs. When he arrived on the first floor of the cell block, he saw that Slashy was in the middle of undressing.

"What are you doing?" asked Garrotte.

"Get into one of these Hammer uniforms," said Slashy. "We'll pose as Hammer guards so that we can get out of here."

"Good idea!" replied Garrotte.

Slashy put on the clothes of one of the sword-toting guards, while Garrotte put on the archer's clothes. The uniform didn't fit Garrotte too well, and the helmet kept sliding down over his eyes.

Slashy looked at Garrotte's baggy clothes and lop-sided helmet, shook his head, and said, "I guess that'll have to do."

Garrotte took the archer's quiver of arrows and slung it over his shoulder. He picked up the bow and said, "Okay, I'm ready."

"You're staying here," said Slashy.

"What?!" exclaimed Garrotte. "What do you mean I'm staying here?"

"I need you to wait here until I get back," said Slashy.

"Where are you going?" asked Garrotte.

"I'm going to find the officer's quarters," replied Slashy. "There's some notes of mine that the Hammers confiscated and put in an evidence box. Freelicks left me those notes when he went after the Accordion of Quintus down in the Bonehoard. I think the Hammers might've stashed Lord Baffle's scepter up there as well. I'm going after them."

"Well, then, I'm going with you!" proclaimed Garrotte.

"No, you're not!" objected Slashy. "I don't need you bumbling around and getting us caught! You're staying here!"

"But I'm a master thief!" countered Garrotte. "If anyone can get those things, I can! Uh … where did you say they were?"

"Oh, no," said Slashy. "Listen, I need you to get up in that guard station and act like everything's under control. If the Hammers come in here and see that there's no one on guard they'll start combing the place for us. Understand?"

"But why do I have to stay?" protested Garrotte. "Why can't you do it?"

"Because … uh … you're wearing the archer uniform," said Slashy.

"Oh. Well, I'll trade uniforms with you," offered Garrotte.

"There's no time!" declared Slashy. "Look, just get up there. I'll be back in a few minutes to get you, then we'll get out of here."

"Okay," relented Garrotte.

"If anyone comes in here, just say 'Every thing is under control now.' Got it?"

"I got it," replied Garrotte. "Good luck."

After Slashy left, Garrotte went up to the guard station and started pretending to be a guard. He stood for a long while - gazing at the empty cell block.

This is boring, he thought. How do those guards do this for hours at a time?

Suddenly, two Hammers came running into the cell block. They skidded to a halt and looked up at Garrotte.

"What happened here?!" one of the Hammers demanded. "How did these prisoners escape?!"

"Umm … " stammered Garrotte. "Everything is under control now."

"What do you mean everything is under control?!" yelled the Hammer. "These cell doors are wide open!"

"Oh," said Garrotte. "Well … umm … I'll close them if you want me to."

"Look in there!" exclaimed the other Hammer as he pointed toward the cell Garrotte once occupied. "Isn't that Brother Clarence? What's he doing in there without his clothes?"

The two Hammers went into the cell to investigate just as Garrotte began closing all the cell doors. The Hammers looked up at the sound of metal grinding on stone and saw the cell door sliding shut. They made a mad dash to get out of the cell, but it was too late.

"Hey!" yelled one of the Hammers. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Ah … I thought you wanted the doors closed!" replied Garrotte.

Garrotte looked down into the cell block and saw to his surprise that he had imprisoned the Hammers.

"Open this door, you imbecile!" yelled the Hammer.

Garrotte moved to open the cell doors again, but then stopped as he realized that it might be better for him if he didn't. He stood a moment trying to think of what to do.

"Open this door!" yelled the Hammer again.

"I can't!" replied Garrotte. "The switch is jammed!"

"Jammed?!" yelled the Hammer.

"Yes, jammed!" replied Garrotte.

"Well, don't just stand there!" yelled the Hammer. "Go get somebody to fix it!"

"Right. Okay," said Garrotte.

Garrotte left the guard station - not knowing exactly what to do or where he was going. He just figured he needed to look like he was going to get help.

Garrotte went down to the first floor. As he passed through the cell block, one of Hammers called out to him: "Who are you?"

Garrotte stopped and looked at him sheepishly, and said, "I'm … ah … I'm the new guy."

"The new guy?" repeated the Hammer. He turned to his companion, who shrugged in reply.

"I'll be back with some help," said Garrotte, and then he turned and quickly left the cell block.

"When did we get a new guy?" mused the Hammer.

Garrotte wandered through the winding stone passageway until he rounded a corner and saw one of the escaped prisoners just standing there. The prisoner turned, saw Garrotte dressed in Hammer garb, shrieked in fright, and took off running.

"Wait!" called Garrotte as he followed the prisoner around the corner and half-way down a set of stairs. The prisoner emerged into a guard room and was spotted by a Hammer guard.

"Thou shalt not escape me!" exclaimed the Hammer as he commenced beating the prisoner with his hammer until the prisoner collapsed onto the floor.

Aghast, Garrotte turned to go back up the stairs, but the Hammer heard him and called out: "Who goes there?"

"Umm … it's me," replied Garrotte. "The new guy."

"The new guy, eh?" said the Hammer. "Well, now. Thou didst the right thing in sending this escaped prisoner to me for proper punishment."

"Umm … thanks," said Garrotte.

"Knowest thou how these prisoners managed to escape their confinement?" asked the Hammer.

"Umm … well … ah," stammered Garrotte.

"Brother Reginald and Brother Tabor went to cell block four to find out, but they have yet to return," said the Hammer.

"Well … ah … I'm sure everything is under control now," said Garrotte.

"Right," replied the Hammer, unconvinced. "Thou hast best return to looking for more escaped prisoners."

"Okay," said Garrotte as he turned to go.

The Hammer turned to go back to his guard post, but then saw the body of the escaped prisoner lying on the floor.

"What's this!" exclaimed the Hammer. "Murder most foul! I shall avenge thee!"

The Hammer crouched, raised his hammer, and began creeping around the room as if searching for someone. Garrotte watched in confusion until the Hammer looked to him and said, "Don't just stand there! Help me look for the murderer!"

"But … didn't you just …" began Garrotte. Then he shrugged and descended the steps into the guard room. He crouched and lifted his bow in imitation of the Hammer, then began slowly patrolling the room - pretending to search for someone.

"Thou cannot hide forever!" exclaimed the Hammer - startling Garrotte in the process.

Thinking that he should probably say something similar to maintain his cover, Garrotte yelled, "I going to find you soon!"

The Hammer straightened, looked at Garrotte, and said, "I think thou mean to say, 'I shall spy thee ere long.' That is one of the standard phrases we use nowadays."

"Oh," said Garrotte. "Sorry."

"'Tis no problem," said the Hammer. "A new guard can't be expected to remember everything."

The two of them continued searching in silence until the Hammer straightened again and said, "I wonder what is keeping Reginald and Tabor? They should have returned by now."

"Perhaps they're rounding up the other escaped prisoners," offered Garrotte.

"I am going to cell block four to see what has happened," said the Hammer. "Thou keep watch here."

"Okay," replied Garrotte.

The Hammer went up the steps and around the corner. A few seconds later Garrotte slipped away in the opposite direction.

Garrotte continued on until he came to yet another guard room - this one preceding the entrance to cell blocks one and two. The floor was littered with the bodies of escaped prisoners, and a Hammer guard was standing over them as if nothing were amiss.

The Hammer saw Garrotte and called out: "Hoy there, brother! Art thou looking for escaped prisoners?"

"Umm … yes," replied Garrotte.

"Well, I have kept watch here since the riot in cell block four began, and I can say with confidence that no escaped prisoner has passed through here," said the Hammer with pride as he surveyed the bodies on the floor.

"Well," said Garrotte nervously. "I'm sure that everything is under control now. I'll just be moving along."

"Wait, brother," said the Hammer. "I do not recognize thee. Art thou new here?"

"Umm … yes," said Garrotte. "I'm the new guy."

"Curious," said the Hammer. "Thou art the second new brother to pass through here today."

"There's another new guy?" asked Garrotte. Then he thought, Of course! It would have to be Slashy!

"Yes," said the Hammer. "Doest not thou know him?"

"Umm … I … ah," stammered Garrotte. "I would like to … meet him. Do you know where he was going?"

"Yes," replied the Hammer. "He said he was told to report to the officers' quarters, and wanted to know where they were."

"Oh," said Garrotte. "Well, then, could you tell me where the officers' quarters are?"

"Yes," said the Hammer. "Just go through cell block one and thou shalt see a sign pointing the way to the barracks."

"Thank you," said Garrotte.

"Thou art most welcome, brother," replied the Hammer. "By the way, what is thy name?"

"Garro- … umm … I mean … Garrish. Yes, that's it. Garrish."

"Brother Garrish," repeated the Hammer. "I am Brother Damien."

Suddenly three other Hammers came running into the room. Garrotte recognized two of them to be the guards he had accidentally locked in the prison cell. The other was the guard that had been stationed in the other guard room.

"There he is!" yelled one of the Hammers.

Garrotte took off running toward cell block one.

"Thou shalt not escape me!" yelled another of the Hammers.

"Who? Brother Garrish?" asked Damien, who then turned to find that Garrotte had disappeared. "Where didst he go?"

"He is an imposter!" yelled another of the Hammers as they took up the pursuit.

Garrotte ran down the stone passageways until he reached cell block one. The archer who stood guard on the balcony overlooking the cell block saw him and called out: "At last! My relief watchman is here! It's about time thou showed up!"

Garrotte continued running through the cell block - ignoring the archer. He saw the Barracks sign and dashed toward the passageway leading to the officers' quarters.

As he rounded the corner he collided hard with another Hammer guard who was going in the opposite direction. The impact knocked the helmets off both men and sent them reeling across the floor. The arrows from Garrotte's quiver scattered noisily in every direction.

Garrotte scrambled to his feet and saw that the guard with whom he had collided was Slashy.

"Garrotte!" exclaimed Slashy as he got to his feet and put his helmet back on.

Just then the four pursuing Hammer guards came dashing around the corner, slipped on the scattered arrows, and went sprawling across the floor.

Garrotte started running toward the stairs behind Slashy. One of the fallen Hammers called out: "Stop him! He's an imposter!"

Slashy dove and tackled Garrotte before he was able to reach the stairs. Garrotte scrambled to his feet again, but Slashy grabbed him and held him tightly in a bear hug.

"What are you doing!" protested Garrotte. "Let me go!"

The four Hammers got to their feet and hurried over to help restrain Garrotte.

"Good work, brother," said one of the Hammers as he moved to take Garrotte from Slashy's grasp. "Now this imposter will get his proper punishment for defiling the uniform of the Order of the Hammer!"

"Wait!" commanded Slashy. "This one must remain alive. He possesses valuable information. The high priest wishes to question him."

"Says who?" demanded another Hammer. "Just who art thou anyway?

"I am … Brother Dugal," said Slashy. "I am new here."

"Yes, and this villain also claimed to be new," said Damien. "How art we to know that thou art not an imposter as well."

"I don't remember hearing anything about any new guys being assigned to Cragscleft," said another Hammer.

"Nor I," agreed another Hammer.

"Well, then," said Damien to Slashy. "What hast thou to say for thyself?"

Slashy looked at the four Hammers defiantly as he desperately tried to think of a way out of this predicament. Then an idea came to him. He took on an air of dignity and began quoting:

"And the faithful spoke, saying: Lo, with the mixing bowl of righteousness Have chocolate hammers been forged. If thou wilt harken to the recipes the Builder has made, And keep his cookbooks, Thou wilt share in his desserts."

The Hammers looked at each other, then back at Slashy - not entirely convinced. Slashy sighed and gave them another quote:

"And the Builder said: If the chocolate recipe is bad, Do you wail and nash your teeth? Do you ask it to rewrite itself? Nay, you tear up the cookbook And begin anew. So shall it be with all my children, Whether they be chocolate - or flesh."

"Thou knowest our litanies," said Damien. "But tell me this: what wouldest thou do if thou had a hammer?"

"If I had a hammer," said Slashy with confidence, "I'd hammer in the morning. I'd hammer in the evening. All over this land."

The Hammers looked at each other and nodded their heads in approval.

"Thou knowest our tenets as well," said Damien. "Surely, then, thou must be one of us. My apologies to thee for our doubts."

"Do not be sorry," said Slashy. "It is good to be on guard against any evil that may infiltrate our halls. Remember, vigilance is our shield!"

"Well said, brother," said Damien. "Very well then. We shall lock up this heathen once again. But first, as punishment for instigating the riot in cell block four, he shall go collect all the bodies of his fellow prisoners and dispose of them."

"Good idea," said another Hammer. "I was beginning to wonder how we were going to clean up all that mess."

Slashy and the four Hammer guards escorted Garrotte back to Brother Damien's guard station where three slain prisoners were scattered on the floor.

"Now then, villain," said Damien. "Pick up these carcasses."

Garrotte shot Slashy a spiteful look, then bent to pick up one of the prisoners. He slung the body over his shoulder and stood waiting for further instructions.

"How is he to dispose of these bodies?" asked one Hammer.

"Perhaps he should be made to take them down to the lower mines and bury them," suggested one Hammer.

"I'm not going down there to guard him with all the undead lurking about," protested Damien.

"Nor I," said another. "I know! Why don't he just dump them in the water course that runs by the other watch station?"

"Good idea, brother" said Damien. "Alright villain, grab the other two carcasses and follow me!"

Garrotte stood staring in disbelief for a moment.

"Hurry up!" commanded Damien. "We don't have all day!"

"I can't carry three dead people at once!" balked Garrotte.

"Well, you should have thought of that before you killed them!" retorted one of the Hammers.

"But I didn't kill them!" protested Garrotte. "You Hammers did!"

"Hold thy tongue, villain!" exclaimed Damien.

"I suppose he will have to carry them one at a time," offered one of the Hammers.

Damien looked at the others and sighed. "Alright then," he said. "Follow me!"

Damien led Garrotte and the others down the twisting stone passageway to the other guard station.

"This water course," inquired Slashy. "Where does it go?"

"Ah," said Damien. "It runs throughout the complex. It eventually flows into a pool in the lower mines, or so I am told."

"Interesting," commented Slashy as he began to form a plan.

The group arrived at the guard station, and one of the Hammers went to open the door to the watch booth. Slashy could hear water flowing in a long trough that was situated behind the booth.

Slashy made sure that he positioned himself right behind Garrotte. The door slid open.

"Get in there, you scum!" exclaimed Slashy as he shoved Garrotte through the doorway.

Slashy shoved Garrotte again causing him to stumble forward. Garrotte and his load tumbled over the waist-high stone wall of the water trough and went head first into the water. The current carried Garrotte and the deceased prisoner swiftly away.

"He's getting away!" exclaimed Damien.

"I'll get him!" declared Slashy as he lept over the stone wall and into the water. The other Hammers looked at each other in bewilderment.

The current carried Garrotte, Slashy, and the dead guy for a ride through an underground aquaduct, and finally dumped them over a waterfall and into a great pool of water in the lower mines.

Garrotte and Slashy swam over to ledge at the side of the pool. They climbed out the water coughing and sputtering.

"What in the name of the Builder were you doing back there!" yelled Garrotte when he finally recovered.

"I was getting us out of there!" countered Slashy. "I had to act the part to keep from blowing my cover!"

"Well, you sure did a good job!" exclaimed Garrotte sarcastically. "I think you actually enjoyed mistreating me!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" retorted Slashy. "I did what I had to do! I got us out of Cragscleft, didn't I?! Besides, you weren't helping matters any by running all over the place being chased by Hammers! I told you to stay put!"

"I tried to stay put!" replied Garrotte. "But the Hammers wouldn't let me! If you had've let me go with you in the first place I wouldn't have gotten into trouble!"

"Ha!" exclaimed Slashy. "If I had've let you go with me you'd have gotten us both caught!"

"I would not!" protested Garrotte.

The two men sat sulking for a few moments.

"Well," said Garrotte finally. "Did you get the septum?"

Slashy reached into his uniform and pulled out a long, silver object.

Garrotte's face slowly changed into a grin. Then the two men broke out laughing.

"And I got Freelick's notes as well," said Slashy.

"What's so important about those notes?" asked Garrotte.

"They could give some clues about location of the Accordion of Quintus - maybe give some hints about the dangers in the Bonehoard," said Slashy.

"The Accordion of Quintus?" queried Garrotte. "Is that valuable?"

"Very valuable!" replied Slashy.

The two men sat in silence for a moment.

"So," said Garrotte. "Who did you have in mind to go after this Accordion of Quintus?"

Please send any feedback regarding this story to LoneCoyote.