Escape from Undermountain Read Online Free PDF

the cell, four more armed guards waited. They all looked to Beady-Eyes. It was clear he was their captain. He gave the order, and they began marching down a long corridor. Two guards led the way. Next came Beady-Eyes, who jerked cruelly at the chain binding Artek's wrists, followed by the remaining guards. Artek trudged silently, head bowed, shoulders slumped.
    "It seems there's little spark left in you, Artek the Knife," Beady-Eyes chortled in a bubbling voice. "No one would mistake the wretch you are now for Waterdeep's most infamous rogue. It seems a year alone in the dark is enough to break even the greatest of scoundrels."
    Artek staggered dizzily. A year? A few months, he thought, perhaps even six. But an entire year of his life lost in that black pit? Deep inside, amid the hopelessness that had filled him during his confinement, there now ignited a single bright spark of rage. Remembered words-spoken by father to son-echoed in his mind.
    A good thief finds strength in weakness. Chains can be a weapon. And sometimes a prisoner's bonds may be turned upon unwitting captors.
    The party rounded a corner. To the left the wall fell away, and in its place was an iron rail. Beyond this was a vast chamber, its floor fifty feet below-the center of the prison of the Magisters, a place named the Pit by the city's criminals. Below Artek, five levels of cells lined the perimeter of the Pit, each bordered by a narrow catwalk. In the far wall was a massive stone slab of a door. At present, the door was raised, held up by a chain that passed through a ring in the ceiling and hooked to a large counterweight. A dozen armed guards stood before the open portal.
    Beady-Eyes tugged Artek's chains, leading him toward an opening to the right, away from the Pit. The spark blazed more hotly inside the prisoner, burning away months of apathy and despair. This, he realized, would be his only chance.
    He took it.
    Lunging to the left, Artek jerked sharply on the chain that connected his shackled hands to the guard's wrist. With a cry of alarm, Beady-Eyes stumbled toward him, giving Artek the slack in the chain he needed. The guards drew their swords, reaching for Artek, but they were too slow.
    With a shout, he threw himself past the iron railing and over the edge of the Pit. For a second he plunged downward, then abruptly stopped short. Above, Beady-Eyes shrieked in pain as he struck the iron railing. Arms above his head, Artek dangled in midair, suspended by the chain attached to the corpulent captain's wrist.
    "My arm!" Beady-Eyes squealed, his pudgy face bright red. With his free hand he clutched the iron rail to keep from being dragged over the edge. "He's going to pull my arm out of its socket! Break the chain!"
    The other guards stared at him.
    "Break it!" Beady-Eyes wailed.
    Dog-Face hurried forward, raising his sword. The blade flashed downward in a whistling arc. At the same moment, Artek swung his body toward the wall. Another shrill scream sounded above just as the chain gave way. Artek's momentum carried him forward, and he landed in a crouch on the catwalk bordering the highest row of cells. Glancing at the chain around his wrists, he saw that Dog-Face's blow had missed. The chain was unbroken, but at its center, still in the iron wristlet, was a severed hand. No wonder Beady-Eyes had screamed, Artek thought with grim mirth. He plucked the hand from the iron ring and tossed it aside.
    Shouts of alarm rang out across the Pit. Jerking his head up, Artek saw guards racing along the catwalk from either direction. There was no way past them without a fight, which left only one way to go. Gripping the edge of the catwalk, he lowered himself down, grunting with effort. His body was no longer accustomed to such rigors. Drumming footfalls approached. Gritting his teeth, he swung himself forward and dropped to the catwalk bordering the fourth level. At least his body had not forgotten everything.
    Angry curses drifted downward. A moment later, a