Streets of Fire

Chapter 01

Many centuries ago the world of Classica was divided into different continents and these continents were further divided into countries. Why this was done was unclear. You could ask ten people and get ten different stories; The orcs believed it was because of a major feud between colonies, the humans believed it was because of a large earthquake, and the trolls believed it was because the Big Creator, Mazarin, did it to have a big map his kids could play Risk with.
Every country got the chance to buy cities to fill their piece of continent. Every city came within a package. The packages differed from one another by price; the higher the price, the better your city would become. For instance, if you would pay more for your City Deal, you would have less poverty and less diseases.
Crime was something that was included with every package deal. This was to keep the balance and keep it fair. If there would be packages available without crime, the entire world would only be interested in this package. This would result in one package being out of stock forever, while the other packages would gather dust on the shelves. Besides, it would make the world a boring place no one would be interested in.
One of this cities, Diremoor, had bought a cheap deal, and therefore knew a lot of crime and poverty. However, they also had a small island originally intended for unfortunate sailors or pirates to strand on while they could look for twigs to build their own rafts or spell the word "Help" on the beach.
Diremoor had different plans with this island and they built a big fortress on it, called Deadwater Holding, to keep the criminals from the city locked inside. Around the island they had a dozen sharks swimming around, which they trained by throwing one prisoner a month in the sea. This way the sharks would stay around - because they knew they got at least one meal a month without having to look for it - and the prison itself would never get overcrowded.
A small boat would bring you to this prison. Once you got close to the island, screams could be heard coming from behind the high walls. This was a fairly expensive effect. The city knew no prison would be complete without horrible screams, so they hired a few underpaid interns to walk around behind the walls smashing chains against the ground while screaming.
The City Guards were charged with protecting the city. Unfortunately, they werent particulary cunning, or smart, or fast. Most criminals slipped through their fingers or simply outran them. Therefore the prison was filled with people who only commited petty crimes. However, the building was filled to a satisfying number, so they seemingly did a good job.
One of these petty crime prisoners was Zindrell; he had been locked within Deadwater Holding for nineteen years; the first five for stealing a small loaf of bread and fourteen years because of - as formulated by the guards - numerous attempts of escape. Some of these so-called attempts were merely a visit to the toilet, but the guards simply saw a half-orc wandering the hallways and called it in faster than a small lie turns into heavy gossip.
He was standing up with his hands locked in chains attached to the ceiling giving him almost no space to move.
The heavy cell door opened and in came a troll whose width was almost as big as his height. He looked as if he could bend iron like a well cooked string of spaghetti. Arnie Blackeggs was known as the strongest troll alive, but his many muscles left little room for logic, or the ability to think.
Arnie pushed a small cart into the room, covered by a filthy sheet to mask the top of the cart. He shut the door behind him and walked towards Zindrell.
'Could you give me some water?' asked Zindrell, his voice breaking with exhaustion and thirst.
'Have to prepare. No water.' Arnie looked at the cart, pondering his next move. His forehead was wrinkled and his nose was pinched. Then he reached into the pocket of his coat and produced a small piece of paper which said "Bring the cart to Zindrell's cell." After a moment of realizing his job was done, he turned around and walked towards the door.
'Where are you going?' asked Zindrell.
'Out.'
Zindrell took a deep breath. 'It ain't fair, actually.' he said.
Arnie turned around, looking at him. His face showed no sign of understanding.
'So unfair...' Zindrell tried again.
'What?' asked Arnie.
'Well... I've been standing here for quite some time, handcuffed to the ceiling. You, on the other hand, are just walking around pushing trollies around.'
'Because me guard. You prisoner.'
'That's just a name given to us. It doesn't mean anything. I can't feel my fingers anymore and would love to walk around for a bit, just to stretch my legs. However, if I would do so, the rats and the walls would miss someone in the room and get confused. Now, if you were to take my spot until I come back, then it'll be fine. I can have a walk around and the room will have someone to take care of.'
Arnie thought about this and found out there was some logic in this. 'You back soon?'
'Very soon. Just a small stroll around. Stretching my legs for a bit. That's all.'
After a moment of hesitation Arnie took his keys and opened the cuffs. Zindrell lowered his hands and felt the blood returning. He walked towards the door and gave it a pull.
'Can you unlock the door for me?'
'You take stroll in here.'
'I can't. It's the room, you see? The room is used to having one living person inside. If there is a second one in there for too long, the volume of contents will be out of balance and the room will explode. You don't want that, do you?'
'Uh... no?'
'Exactly. So it's safest if I take a stroll outside. Now the door - please?'
Arnie walked to the door and, with a small hesitation, opened it. Zindrell put his head outside and saw the hallway to be deserted.
'To really satisfy the room,' he said to Arnie, 'you have to handcuff yourself to the ceiling. This way the room will think everything is normal.'
Arnie looked at the handcuffs that were hanging from the ceiling. He was figuring out how he was going to handcuff himself; normally he only handcuffed others. Doing it to himself was something completely new and new things didn't come naturally to him.
Zindrell took him by the hand and led him to the middle of the room. He helped him to get his hands in the handcuffs and placed the keys on the trolly.
'I'll leave this here. In case you want to free yourself.'
Zindrell was surprised by the understanding look on Arnie's face. If it would have been any other guard - it wouldn't have been so simple.
Arnie nodded. 'You very kind.'
Yeah, and you are very stupid, Zindrell thought as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.