A Lucky Day -
This was not how Lyndon had planned to spend his day. Trussed up like a hog ready for slaughter, cheek mashed against the dirt, he groaned and mentally cataloged his bruises. Of course the Thieves' Guild finally caught up to him here of all places, right before he scored big. It was just his luck that he had managed to pick the one place that some Kingsport brigands were passing through and had thought to make a quick raid. He heaved a sigh and immediately regretted it.
The barn door creaked open and a trickle of light came in. Even though it was midday, the sky around Tristram was never exactly bright these days. He'd have thought that thieves had better sense than to go into creepy areas where eldritch abominations have been crawling around.
"Well, well, well. This must be my lucky day."
And it just had to be a little twit, didn't it. This was getting better and better.
A hand grabbed his hair, and roughly hauled him into a sitting position. Lyndon found an unpleasant face - one positioned entirely too close for comfort - staring back at him, showering him with malice and rancid breath.
The stranger grinned, flashing broken teeth and a nasty attitude. "The Thieves' Guild has missed you ever so much. I'm sure they'll love to hear from you again."
Lyndon ineffectively tried to clutch at his heart with his hands tied behind his back. "Oh, I broke it off because our relationship just wasn't working out. It'd just cause them nothing but pain if they ever saw me again, and you wouldn't want that right?"
That was rewarded with a hard punch to the jaw. "This isn't a joke. You're a dead man, both to the law and the guild. Where's the relic?"
"What relic?"
Another blow. Damn, that one stung.
"Don't lie to me. You're here for a reason."
Lyndon was silent. He wasn't losing that too, especially not to this prick.
More punching and shouting. Lyndon lamented the loss of creativity among thieves between winces, but kept his mouth shut.
This time, however, his continued silence was met with a slow smile.
"Tell you what, we'll leave you in here to think about it for a while as we… persuade your little lady friend. She seems like she's a nice, innocent little girl who needs a bit of education about the way the world works."
Lyndon's newly blackened eyes snapped open. "You wouldn't dare."
The thug just smirked. "What are you going to do about it then?" He let go and let Lyndon's head fall to the floor again. "We'll have some fun with her."
The barn door slammed shut, leaving the captured thief in the dark yet again.
Lyndon spewed a deluge of curses at the closed door at the top of his lungs. There was no response.
How was he going to get out of this one?
There was a distressing lack of sharp objects in this barn. No axes lying around, no saws within convenient arms reach, all sickles hung up nice and neat on the walls. Sasha's old man really needed to be more considerate in his tool placement. Wait. There it was! A nail protruding out of a joist near his ankles beckoned to him.
Lyndon wiggled back a bit, tried to aim for the nail and promptly stabbed himself in the foot. He bit back a curse, but hey, at least it was sharp.
With a few more wiggles he found himself awkwardly curled around the nail, precariously sitting on his bound hands so he could angle his feet properly. Not the most dignified position he'd been in, but Lyndon wasn't really in the position to care about dignity.
Painfully slowly, the ropes frayed as he worked them over the nail's tiny point. Thankfully, it was pretty shoddy rope to begin with, but thieves did know their knots. However, these amateurs hadn't even thought to leave anyone to watch him. Their loss.
A strong kick and the ropes snapped. Finally free.
Before he could take his first step, the door flew open again. Lyndon immediately slid into the shadows.
A musclebound bonehead leaned against the door nonchalantly. "Boss just wanted to make sure that you could hear exactly what was happening to your girlfriend."
"That's nice. Wouldn't your mother be so proud if she could see you now?"
That struck a chord. The henchman was stomping towards him now.
"What did you say, you son of a bitch?"
As the thug closed in, preparing to beat up a poor, helpless, restrained victim, he was surprised with a foot smashing into his privates. As he doubled up in pain, a forehead crashed into his nose and a leg swept his feet out from under him.
Taken off guard, the attacker toppled forward and slammed his head against the barn wall. He didn't move when he hit the floor, but Lyndon threw in a few kicks to the ribs, just in case. He looked at the wide open door. His hands were still tied, but the other lackeys would be wondering where this idiot was soon. He had to go right now.
Lyndon poked his head around the door tentatively. Sasha, bless her heart, was still unaware of what was happening and was loudly denying any information about the relic. She was a great distraction though. None of the imbeciles even glanced at Lyndon diving over the fence.
The road opened before him. He could just escape right now, leave and get away scot free yet again. But-
Aha! Three travelers coming up the road, armed to the teeth. It was his lucky day after all!
"You there! Please help, they're going to kill my friend!"