"Welcome to Grimsby."

  Zig had been in the cart for two days. The paralysis wore off, but being tightly wrapped in sheets left him just as mobile. His captors were tense at first, but when the realized he couldn't do anything in the sheets, they relaxed. One of them was Jed, the other's name was Jetton. He wore a nondescript traveling cloak, but Zig could see the black clothes poking out from underneath. Obviously more than one person in this world could wear black, but...

  "You're the one that stabbed me."

  "I was. And you owe me an everfrost dagger. Thing cost me 40 gold."

  "...I sold it for four gold." Zig laughed weakly. Jetton rewarded him with a kick to his chest. Zig went dizzy. He still hadn't healed the scratches and bites from the wolf, and his chest was feeling mighty tender lately. A heavy boot stomping down didn't help.

  The cart pulled into a town. This one seemed about the same size as Lancre, but a bit more wealthy. For one thing, they were heading straight toward a stone keep in the middle. Stone walls met at an iron gate, which was lifted up by chains as the cart moved through into the courtyard. Zig was uncovered at this point, but Jed didn't seem to care. Nor did any of the guards patrolling the keep. Zig saw flags lining the walls of the courtyard.

  "Oh. Oh no."

  Zig recognized the flags, and finally understood what was going on. He'd seen those flags before. They were flown by an army of nobles. An army that killed half of Lancre's army, before Zig scared them away. It seemed like the battle hadn't quite ended there.

  Zig was taken around the back of the keep, where there was a ramp leading down to a basement. Cold stone made up the floor and walls. The ceiling was made of wooden beams—the floor of the keep above. It was a small prison. Very small, only two cells. Zig didn't get to pick. He was roughy stripped of the sheets, and almost cried with relief. Almost. The loud clang of the iron bars as the door slammed shut muted Zig's celebration. Zig remembered being jailed in a wagon back in the army. At least then he had friends. Zig sighed, looking around his new lodgings. It was swept bare. There was a bucket, and small drain was dug into the rock floor. Lovely. Zig sat down with the bucket, and tried to occupy his time imagining what he could do with a bucket and all his jars of goop. Make a waterproof bucket. Or fireproof, would be more exciting. Then he could fill the inside with flammable goop, set it on fire, and have a bucket of fire. What could you do with a bucket of fire? What couldn't you do?

  Zig's daydreams were interrupted by someone coming down. It wasn't Jed, Zig was surprised to see a well-dressed woman, perhaps twenty years old. She had green eyes, red hair, and wore a fur-line cloak. She paused, seeing Zig sitting on the floor cradling a bucket.

  "I came down to see a mighty warrior. Am I mistaken?"

  Zig looked down at his imaginary goop bucket. Well, the goop was imaginary. The bucket was not. Zig felt dizzy.

  "I might be. You might be. Got any goop?"

  The woman looked perplexed.

  "Pull yourself together man, you've been here for one hour!"

  Zig narrowed his eyes, concluding she didn't have any goop after all.

  "Watch who you're talking to. I once killed a bunny rabbit."

  Zig felt the jail cell shift as his body slid sideways onto the floor.

  "Then I ate the paste."

  He was feeling a little delirious. He slowly took his shirt off and stared down at wounds that were very green, very blue, and in some places bright orange.

  "Taste the rainbow." Zig mumbled, then fainted.

  Zig woke up to loud cries of excitement. A man dressed in fine robes was dancing around, shouting about a class shift. His hands were covered in bits of Zig's wounds, and the lady from before was flinching back, trying to make sure nothing landed on her.

  "Be quiet man! This is meant to be a secret!" She hissed. The man finally calmed down.

  "Do forgive me, lady Jane. I was hoping from his condition to get a skill out of this, but my entire class has shifted. I'm advanced now. This is a great day for me, a great day indeed!"

  Zig lay there, trying to understand the last few days. He'd been fever ridden. This lady must have brought in a healer. Where was Jed? Where were his friends, Hepp and Gretta? Where... was home? Zig missed his parents. He missed his gaming crew, the Red Daggers. What was Dave up to now? Erica? Probably leveling up her enchantress. It was her favorite build. Abed was probably studying. He would do the best out of all of them. The team was rooting for him, like he was some character and they were backseat driving his career. Would Abed make a good doctor? Zig thought so. His nickname as a rogue was "The Surgeon"...

  Zig woke up again as a white glow of light filled the room. The healer from before sat back with sweat on his pale face.

  "That's all I can do for now, my lady. I need rest to restore my mana." He bowed and left the dungeon.

  Zig slowly sat up, the first time in days, and saw a bowl of stew nearby. He picked it up, brought it to his lips, and started pouring it into his mouth. It was the best thing he'd ever eaten. He stayed like that, draining the bowl, until a polite cough let him know there was someone in the room. The woman. Lady... Jane?

  "I see you are recovering. Good."

  "Thank you," Zig replied carefully. He maintained what he hoped was respectful eye contact, but returned the bowl to his lips.

  "Why Jed thought to bring you here just to die within the same day, I don't understand. Perhaps he didn't realize. That wouldn't surprise me." Lady Jane sighed. "Or perhaps he just brought you here for the victory of it, and now you can die out of sight."

  Zig finished the bowl, and put it down. There was a cup of water there, too. He picked it up and started drinking.

  "I am not a fan of my husband. I rather hate him as much as I hate this city. I didn't come here by choice. It was an arrangement. My parents thought land was more valuable than their daughter."

  Zig had not asked Lady Jane for any of these details. He thought about pretending to sleep, but remembered she was the one who had brought in the healer. He owed her something. He tried to listen back in to what she'd been talking about for the past five minutes.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "...this whole sordid affair, and so it was quite a pleasant surprise to hear that Lord Jorst had fallen in battle. A routine skirmish went awry. I'd never felt so bitterly happy to hear it."

  Zig laughed weakly.

  "Lord Jorst. What a name."

  Lady Jane looked at Zig, who had a little stew and water dripping down his shirt. It was an improvement, considering what else covered his shirt.

  "Did you know him, soldier, or did you simply come across him by chance?"

  "Strong guy? Lots of armor?"

  Lady Jane nodded.

  "Advanced Strength. Made him think he was king of the world."

  "Yea... Yea I got him. That was me. I guess that's why I'm here?"

  Lady Jane paused with a grimace.

  "Well, I came down here to say thank you to a hero. I didn't expect..." She gestured at Zig.

  "Um. You're welcome. I think. I'm not used to killing people. It seems pretty common around here, but it's not how I grew up."

  Zig thought about it.

  "I'd do it again though. He killed my friends. Lots of people's friends. Half the army died in that battle. I guess... I guess I wish I'd killed him sooner. Does that make me a bad person?"

  Lady Jane gave a polite "hmpf".

  "I think killing Jorst might be the noblest thing you've ever done. Again, thank you."

  The lady stood and walked out of the dungeon, leaving Zig to his thoughts.

  Another couple days went by. Zig felt much better since that man had healed him the second time. His shirt was a mess, but he himself felt fit as a fiddle. He just wished he could get out of this place. He was legendary. He could do incredible things. But none of those things were available to him right now. There was nothing to harvest in the cell. The food was even pretty good, so he didn't even need his Eat Anything skill. Perhaps it was cold down here? It looked cold, but Zig of course felt perfectly fine with the temperature. Maybe that was a small blessing. If there was a rock, Zig could break the doors down, he was sure. But the cell had been swept clean. Perhaps by a specific order, since Jed had seen Zig with rocks.

  Halfway through the second day, Zig had a flash of inspiration. Of course. He didn't have the skill he needed now, but you can obtain new skills, right? You just needed...

  A challenge.

  Zig started doing push ups. If he could get legendary strength, he could rip the bars open. That was the plan. He did as many push ups as were comfortable. Then he did as many push ups as he could beyond the line of comfort. Then he did push ups until his arms gave out, too weak to do anything more. Then he did push ups on his knees. Eventually he went down to doing one knee pushup every five minutes or so. His arms were screaming, but he was desperate. He slept face down in the cell, and woke up to do nothing but push ups again, the entire day. The second day was much worse, the muscles were screaming. Zig pushed through. He hated pushups. He hated this cell. He hated Jed who brought him here. He hated Jane who said "thank you" but left him there. He hated himself for not taking this whole world more seriously. Why hadn't he trained with weapons? Just because every rock throw was like a cannon? Ok, that was kind of an excuse, but still. Zig imagined what legendary knife skills would be like. Legendary sword skills. Could a legendary punch break through stone? Zig kept doing push ups.

  Halfway through the third day, Jed came in to the cell. He walked up to Zig, and spat on him through the bars.

  "Good to see you're still alive. I hope you spend many years here. I won't visit you. I just came this once because I wanted to know."

  Zig crawled from lying face down into a sitting position. He looked blankly at Jed.

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Who are you? Why were you in Lancre's army? My father was fighting peasants. Peasants! He was leveling up in the safest way possible. How dare you be there? How dare you strike him down!"

  Jed spat again, his face red with anger. Zig didn't answer straight away. He didn't know what to say.

  "Sorry dude. Your dad was killing my friends, so I fought back. He was kind of a jerk."

  Jed opened the door and came into the cell. This would have been the time for genius Zig to fight with the hidden weapon he'd stored... under the bucket maybe? But there was no hidden weapon. And Zig couldn't even lift his arms. He'd been working so hard for that skill. All he could do was curl into a ball as Jed kicked and punched and spat.

  Much later, Zig finally uncurled. He checked for fractured ribs, but he seemed ok. He slowly reached his arms out to either side of him, and started doing push ups.

  New skill acquired! Endurance (Legendary)

  Zig cried. He felt energy rushing back into his body. He felt like he could run up mount Everest. It was the wrong skill. He was trapped in the cell, full of vigor now, but with no way to get out. Tears streamed out of his eyes, even as his very numb arms came back to life.

  Lady Jane visited again. She'd been crying, and didn't say anything as she swept in and sat down. After a little while, she spoke.

  "Would you kill Jed, if you had the chance?"

  "I... think I would."

  "Could you?"

  "He's got a stun spell. As long as I can hit him first, he'd go down."

  "And the guards? There are about thirty in the keep."

  "I could eat thirty guards for breakfast. Not really, but honestly I think I'm up for any challenge. I can't stay here. I feel so restless now. I need to run, for like, three days straight. Is this what a horse feels like?"

  Zig turned to face Jane directly.

  "Can you get me out of here?"

  Jane looked at him for a while, and reached up to touch a faint bruise on her cheek.

  "I think I can, but not now. I'll try."

  Zig didn't see Jane the next day, nor the next. He did meet someone else. Guards opened the door to the dungeon, and dragged a man into the cell opposite Zig's. Zig tried to feel sorry for the man, but he was rather delighted to finally have company. A friend? The guards left and the man groaned at his new situation.

  "Ho there, mister! My name's Zig. I gotta say it is truly a delight to see another soul down here."

  The man sighed.

  "Ho, Zig. My name's Jints. I think this is my end."

  "Don't be so down. With you here, there's twice as much chance of escape. Do you happen to be a great fighter? Can you bend iron bars? I tried, but all I got was limitless endurance."

  Zig tried not to be so chatty, but it really did brighten his day to have someone to talk to.

  "I'm a steward, lad. A merchant and administrator and all that. No fighting, unless you mean in the social courts. Even then I prefer the shadows, you know?"

  Zig grimaced but he hadn't really been hoping for anything miraculous.

  "Sorry to hear that mister Jints. What're you in here for? I killed the Lord of the keep or whatever it is."

  The man's eyes bulged out.

  "That was you? I heard it was a warlord from the south! Are you...?"

  "Not a warlord, Jints, though I have been mistaken for a king a couple times."

  The man was speechless. Then he laughed.

  "Ha! Well good on you I say! Lord Jorst was a tossbag and a pennypincher. Would you believe I'm here for the same reason?"

  "Eh? You killed the same guy I did?"

  "You could say that! Jed got into one of his moods, and decided I should have known every member of Lancre's army before his dad went out and got himself killed. So here I am."

  The man spread his arms wide and bowed. Zig smiled.

  "Brothers in arms, I guess we are then."

  Jints had a gaunt face but kind eyes. The kind of man you'd trust. The perfect merchant, then. He looked young, in his 30s or 40s, yet had mostly gray hair.

  "Jints, you're a finely dressed fellow. Not gaudy, like the lords and nobles, but well-dressed nonetheless."

  "Thank you, mister Zig. I must say you are the worst dressed person I've ever had the pleasure of coming across. Is that mold growing on your shirt?"

  "So it is! So it is. I don't usually dress like this, but his majesty Jed the stupid-head never thought to give me a new shirt."

  "Jed the butt head."

  "Jed the poop in my bucket."

  "Jed the mold worse than whatevers on your shirt."

  "Jed the pimple on my—Hey, Jints, whatever happened to Lady Jane?"

  "Lady Jane? How do you know her?"

  "She thanked me for killing Jorst."

  "Ha! She never thanked me."

  "Women, eh?"

  "Indeed, mister Zig."

  The man's mirth faded a little.

  "She hasn't been seen for a few days. I think something happened, and I wouldn't be surprised if she were locked in her rooms. It happens, occasionally. Best not to think about."

  "I see. A rescue mission then."

  "Hmm?"

  "Mister Jints, I do not intend to stay in this prison for much longer. I do not intend that at all."