Deep within the mines of The Redgrave Valley lies a prison, and within this prison a transfer is occurring. Four guards escort a man who is chained and hooded. A bag, I suppose, would be a better word for the cloth that is placed on his head. These guards do not want him to memorize the way they came. The man is tall, for a human, and built like one who has seen the luxuries of nobility, but only recently. For underneath the layers of pudge lies a physique that has seen the darker sides of society.

For what seems like an eternity they escort him. Through layers and layers of cells, until finally they arrive at his cell. At the very bottom of the prison, where he is meant to be forgotten. They remove the hood from his head. He is handsome, in a roguish kind of way, but aged. His hair specked with salt, the salt that only comes from time at sea. His eyes glow in an almost gem-like fashion, the blues almost seeming like an aquamarine if you look at it from the right angle.

They throw him into the cell, and lock the door behind them. After collecting himself for a moment, he looks around to take in the scenery. At the other side of the cell is an Orcish man. His green skin is the most colorful thing in this drab room, but his gray hair blends in with the stones that make up the walls. Beside our prisoner is another human. He is gagged with a muzzle that stretches down into a metal collar, covered with runes. Above this horrid mask part of his face reveals itself. Strands of white hair flow from the top of his head but they are not matched by wrinkles. His face is thin and young, one that has not seen many winters yet. His glasses are thick and seem to reflect most light back at you, hiding the true visage behind. His hands and his feet are chained with manacles, tighter and closer together than any others in this room. Despite his horrifying appearance, The man sits down beside the muzzled man. 

“My name is Sigismund.” the Blue eyed man says, not expecting a reply. 

“Piamon,” the muzzled man strains, "My name is Piamon, it is a pleasure to meet you Sigismund.”

“How long have you been here?” Sigi asks, genuinely curious but more from a point of courtesy.

  “It will soon be one year,” Piamon says, gesturing towards the marks on the wall behind him. “I see no exit for me anytime soon”

“Nor for me, friend,” Sigi remarks, beginning to slink further into the corner where he resides “No one has ever escaped from Redgrave Prison, at least that's what they say. I highly doubt we will be the first.”

“You should get some rest Sigismund,” Piamon states, “Tomorrow will be your first day in the mines. It will be a long day.”

Sigi lays his head back against the wall in agreement. Accepting his fate, he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. He will dream no dreams this night. It is hard to imagine how one could, when sentenced to life in Redgrave Prison. That is a death sentence in itself.

The next few weeks are a blur. Days and nights seem to blend together deep below the surface of the earth. Hours are filled mining away at the ground below, digging deeper and deeper towards an unknown goal. 

{Dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep, dig, eat, dig, sleep.}

This is how the next few weeks of Sigi's life unfolds, an endless train of monotony. Until, an idea…

While digging, Sigi looks around and locks eyes with a mountain of a man. Only, this is not a man, his skin is scaly and shines with a gold hue. His face is fierce and reptilian, adorned with protruding spikes and horns. This Dragonborn returns his gaze, with eyes that burn with a primordial fire. Beside the Dragonborn, a small child, no older than ten. Sigi now realizes he can no longer spend his final days slaving away in prison. He is going to escape.

Sigi begins to take in his surroundings. As he looked up, a drop of water hit his head falling from a stalactite on the ceiling.

“Where there's a drip, there's water,” He thinks. 

Sigi makes his way over to the Dragonborn, continuing to work in order to avoid suspicion from the guards. Between blows from his pickaxe he declares,

“My name is Sigismund.” 

“Vergil. Now, step away from the child,” The Dragonborn says fiercely, “He is under my protection.”

“Fortunately for both us, I’ve got no interest in abducting children. But, I do have an interest in getting out of this hellhole. What’d you say?” 

“Fine. Any funny business, and it’s your head.”

“Great.”

For the next several days, Sigi’s time is spent planning. Pocketing a piece of iron here, and a piece of iron there. Until finally, the right piece is found. Its no longer than the palm of his hand, but it will have to do. 

“It’s no Layndvellirian Steel, but I think I can make this work,” He thinks, “A simple piece of cloth will make a fine handle.” 

After the work for the day is done, he returns to his cell. The orcish man is no longer there tonight. Another victim lost to Redgrave Prison. P'aimon watches silently from the corner of the room as Sigi begins working on his Shiv. A long stretch of cloth from the bottom of his tattered shirt shall make a fine handle. He wraps the cloth until only a small piece remains before tying it in a knot. He never notices P'aimon’s gaze.

The next morning, Sigi returns to his usual spot next to Vergil and the boy. A plan is hatched and ready, but one final step remains. 

“I need you to start a riot,” Sigi proclaims, “The bigger the better but…”

“What?!?” Vergil exclaims, “That’s a death sentence, the guards will be on me like bees in a hive before you even make a move.”

“I’ve got to get into the Warden’s office. Just trust me and wait for my signal.”

Vergil nods in agreement. 

Sigi slinks away, moving to the vein closest to the stairs leading to the warden's office. He begins mining at a piece of ore sticking out of the earth. After a guard continues on his rotation, Sigi lets out a cough. Before he can even register it, Vergil chucks his pickaxe right at the guard’s face. A perfect shot. 

Guards rush in from all entrances, swarming like bees. As three guards rush past Sigi, he makes his move. Like a thief in the night, he climbs the stairs, clinging to the rocky wall. As he reaches the upper level of the mine, a group of guards wielding bows turn to look at him. He did not expect that response. Sigi lets out a chuckle and a sigh before lunging at the closest guard, causing him to loose the arrow knocked in the bow. The arrow flies down the stairs and finds a target in the most convenient place possible; the collar around P'aimon’s neck. 

As the arrow breaks the runic engraving on the collar, P'aimon rips it from his neck. A spark of arcane energy and relief emanates from his figure. P'aimon can speak freely again. He vomits words from an ancient and guttural language. An incantation. Guards rush him and try to muffle his words once more, but before they are successful, he finishes his spell. A wave of dark energy repels the guards as dark green tentacles emerge from the ground around him. With each flowing motion of his arms the tentacles lash out like daggers finding the throats of the guards surrounding Vergil.

“Sigi!” Vergil yells, “Time’s running out!”

Sigi locks eyes with Vergil and nods in understanding. The guards, no longer interested in the old man, begin firing upon P'aimon. A tentacle emerges from his shadow and blocks their projectiles as Sigi finds the door to the Warden’s office. He kicks down the door and rushes in.

In a flash, Sigi and the warden are entangled in a flurry of blows. Sigi takes a slash at the warden with his shiv as the wardens fist connects with Sigi's jaw. The warden rips the shiv out of Sigi's hand and plunges it into his shoulder, breaking the blade in the process. Righting himself on the warden's desk, Sigi locks eyes with the warden's letter opener. Blood drips slowly out of the wound as he grabs the unconventional weapon. Before the warden can react, the letter opener connects with his throat, succinctly ending the duel. 

Sigi assesses his injuries while he turns the room upside down looking for anything to help with the escape. He rifles through the desk while his wound worsens. He groans and grasps at his shoulder whilst stumbling toward the warden's lifeless form. His hands deftly search the pockets and find a ring of keys. He examines the keys and finds a small key with the letter L engraved on it. His eyes dart around the room and find purchase on a locker near the door.

"L for locker..." He thinks.

He rushes towards the locker and inserts the key into the lock dangling from the handle. With a loud click, it unlocks and swings open. Inside he discovers four large crates filled to the brim with vibrant red sticks of dynamite. 

"Perfect." He thinks.

He grabs a satchel from the coatrack and begins unceremoniously shoving the red sticks into the bag as Virgil, P'aimon, and the child emerge in the doorway. 

"Did you find anything useful?!?" Virgil asks franticly. 

Sigi holds up one final stick of dynamite before closing the bag.

"Come with me. I have an idea..." Sigi declares as he rises and pushes past the figures in the doorway.

"If we throw a stick of dynamite up towards the ceiling and aim just right, I think we can blow the ceiling out." Sigi says as he stops suddenly before the edge of the platform. "There's a water source somewhere above the ceiling and if we blow it up, we can flood the prison."

"And why in the hell would we want to do that?" Virgil asks furiously.

"Should be a good enough distraction for us to escape quietly and unnoticed." Sigi states.

"Should be? Should be isn't good enough for me to be riski-" Virgil retorts.

"Enough with this incessant bickering! Give me the damn dynamite!" P'aimon interrupts. 

He grabs a stick of dynamite out of Sigi's bag before chucking it at the ceiling. With a motion of his hand and a muttered word, a ball of flame erupts from his hand and rushes forth towards the stick. At the exact right moment the two connect before bursting into a massive fireball. The ceiling spiderwebs across the chamber as the slow drip of water becomes a fountain of rushing waves and jagged rocks. The rocky torrent begins moving along a crack in the ceiling, widening it in the very direction that the group is standing in.

"Oh shit. Run!" Sigi screams as the group rushes towards a passageway leading up and out of the chamber.

Very quickly, the rushing water catches up to the group and drags them away from their destination. Virgil exclaims an expletive as they are carried deeper into the prison by the rushing waters. The waves drag them down what feels like 40 levels to a large chamber quickly filling with water. Virgil searches around the chamber before catching his hand on a small gap in the wall. He gazes through it a sees torchlight.

"A way out! Bring me some dynamite!" He hollers to the trio behind him. "Quick!"

Sigi quickly plunges his hand into the satchel, emerging with the exact thing that has both almost killed them and just might save them. He tosses it to Virgil who sticks it into the gap in the wall. 

"Step back!" He barks. With a massive breath in, Virgil erupts with a massive stream of fire from his mouth. The dynamite explodes, revealing the previously hidden passageway. 

The group rushes in as the water level begins rising faster and faster. They sprint up a massive incline with water rapidly following behind them. Suddenly, they're stopped by the sudden ending of the passage. Only a singular rope, with a bucket attached to the end, hangs still in the air before them. 

"Quick! Up the fucking rope!" Virgil orders franticly. He leaps gracefully towards the rope and begins tensely climbing. P'aimon follows closely behind him, climbing as fast as he can. Sigi shoves the child onto the rope, and pushes him sharply upwards as he grabs the rope and begins climbing out of the now waist-high water. The group ascends the singular rope at an alarming rate, seemingly filled with adrenaline. Just as they begin making a decent headway above the water, the child loses grip on the rope and begins descending rapidly. 

"Roland!" Virgil screams.

"Roland?!?" Sigi mimics, alarmed. 

His eyes dart from the rope to Roland and back as the child flies past him. "Shit." He thinks as he lets go of the rope and dives toward Roland. His hands grasp onto the child's arm just before the duo hits the surface of the water. 

A freezing shock courses through their bodies as they are enveloped by the icy water. The breath escapes from their lungs as their muscles contract from the sudden cold. Sigi uses his leverage on the boy to twist him around above him and begins pushing the boy rapidly up. Just as he begins to lose steam, out of the corner of his eye he notices the rope moving speedily upwards. With a free hand, he grabs a hold of the bucket as it whirs past. Sigi and Roland breach the surface of the water in the well as two sets of hands grab them and pull them out of the water. Vergil rushes to the child's side as P'aimon congratulates Sigi on a successful plan.

"Roland. Are you okay, child?" Virgil asks sternly

"Yeah, I'm okay, thanks to Sigi." He replies. 

"You stupid son of a bitch," Vergil turns to Sigi, "I cannot believe that worked."

"You bastard!" Sigi erupts "I cannot believe that you had the Barezian Heir hidden under your wing the entire time and didn't say a word!"

"Listen," Vergil responds, " I can explain. Just give me a chance to-"

"No!" Sigi interrupts "This is the most wanted child in all of Apoya right now and you just broke him out of the most well guarded facility in Hjongmar! That was the safest possible place he could have been right now!"

"Wait." P'aimon speaks, "THE Barezian Heir? The child of King Majid Bassam? I thought he was dead?" 

"Obviously not." Sigi explains, "Because this child here is very much still alive. And I guarantee that we are not the only people who know he lives."

"We'd be better off just selling him off to the first Sashirian soldier we come across." Sigi declares as Virgil's fist connects with the side of his face.