Escape!
Night, two years ago, Howler's Peak
It was pitch black outside, save for a vague outline, slightly darker than the wide expanse of tenebrous, charcoal coloured sky which seemed then, to rise like an impenetrable curtain of night from the stony unilluminated horizon. There seemed to be a ceiling of black, with tiny pin-pricks of faraway stars stretching over the earth, shrouding it in an inexplicably bleak, lightless shade.
Opal Koboi was perched rather precariously upon a stone parapet of Howler's Peak prison, which was itself constructed on a frigid mountaintop. She stared out at the dark, barren landscape through a pair of night-vision goggles constructed of bits of glass, metal and plasma, she could see everything in full colour, yet, things seemed clearer when they were hidden in the obscuration of the night.
As she scanned the panoramic, sweeping view of the mountains and country for miles around, she could hear the loud snoring of the sleeping goblin inmates. Opal could'nt say she was sorry to leave them, in fact, more than happy. They were neither clever enough to make intelligent conversation with, nor stupid enough to make obedient lackeys or at least stay safely out of her way. She was fingering a rope made crudely of coarse prison bed sheets she had clandestinely stolen from the laundry piles each week when they went to the washing room to do their laundry, she could feel a slight, prickling annoyance, Opal Koboi, the great female genius, sneaking out of prison like a mere mortal, with a rope, to her eternal shame. Opal had expected more of herself, she always had, yet always fell short, but dawn was approaching in five hours and she would need at least that much time to abseil down the smooth, moss covered, age-worn side of the tower.
Throwing back a last, disparaging glance at the sleeping goblins, she dug into her pocket, got out a pocket laser and proceeded to melt the iron bars on the jail windows, cast down her rope and clambered out, into the night.
Outside, the vertical side of the prison spire was dew-carpeted and slipperier than she had initially expected, but never one to falter, she gritted her tiny, sharp pixie teeth, grasped the rope tightly, planted both feet against the wall and began scaling down the steep stone building.
Slowly and steadily, Opal descended the tower with perfect precision as the earth continued to turn, soon, the sun began to rise and the prison bells clanged just as she reached the ground, landing lightly on the cold, winter hardened soil. Then, as the prison began to stir with the dawning of a new day, Opal cut the rope off where it was tied to the twisted remnants of the prison grate, gathered it as it fell in a neat brown coil at her feet, and disappeared over the side of the mountain.
Though Opal had never been to prison before, this mountain was not completely alien to her, she knew it by the back of her hand, in fact, she owned the mountain and the land around it under the name of Gracie Mctiftin, known throughout the Haven as an eccentric pixie artist. She had built a laboratory wholly separate from Koboi Laboratories, aptly named Plan B Labs, and that was exactly where she was headed.
Despite her surface self-assurance, Opal knew that there would inevitably come a time when, either through a slip-up of her own, an underground business deal gone sour or just plain bad luck, she would be caught and sent to prison. Now, though even she had no way to predicy future events, she was determined not to be left high and totally dry, so from the moment she could expand her business enough to begin commanding a sufficient income, she started the construction of her second fortress, albeit without any dwarf contractor by the name of Mulch Diggums. Though Opal prided herself on never using colloquialisms, ever, she knew, as soon as she stepped into Plan B Labs, that she was home-free.
The lab was a sprawling underground hall, it was built rather like a medieval church, with thick, grey stone walls from which hung huge paintings from King Frond's time (all illegally bought, obviously). Overhead, the ceiling, in which was inlaid with a jewel-tile mosaic of Frond's vanished Kingdom, loomed. It was fitted with never-before-seen technology, by her of course, to rain showers of 'blue-rinse material' which would vapourise after doing its job, onto any intruders. It was Opal's Haven really, a place which she could lord over, control with a click of the remote, and there were no rules to follow.
She turned, slowly, "I'm back. Now's for revenge, People!"